by hannah
July 6th, 2010
Once upon a time I met a guy at a Sushi Bar in Santa Monica. I was going to Ballet, he was…studying handwriting. We started talking. Actually, I believe he asked me to write something down on a piece of paper so that he could, oh I don’t know, give me more insight into me. Perhaps it was kismet. I had just lost my job, and he happened to need an assistant. Or perhaps he was just trying to pick me up. He was after all, as I found out later, working on a book about the pick-up artist community.
Why am I bringing all this up? Life has a strange way of coming full circle. Working with Neil was definitely interesting, and the characters I met during that brief period were even more. But then I moved on, because we all eventually do, and I needed a real job. So I moved down to San Diego, and after a while lost touch with everyone until…I moved back up to LA, and one night found myself getting hit on by one of these PUAs.
The next day I couldn’t help myself. I got on Facebook and looked up Neil, and by crossing that path also found Ross Jeffries, and then J The Ripper was asking if he could interview me on his podcast; suddenly I was back in the game:)
by hannah
February 26th, 2010
Maybe I should have read the book before writing this blog post, and maybe I’ll pick up the book this weekend to further my musings; but, my experience of last night compels me to write about this today. As I drink lemon-ginger water to cure my hangover.
Last night a pick-up artist tried to pick me up. Yes, one of these secret society guys that classifies himself as a geek or loser that has little chance of ever scoring with the chick of his dreams. Or did at one time. Until he went through the twelve-step “become a stud” program and reversed his ill fate.
I repeat my caveat that I have not yet read this book so maybe it addresses everything I’m already thinking, but quite frankly, isn’t the art of pick-up really the art of conversation? And the art of having the balls to start a conversation with someone you feel attracted to? And the art of knowing when to stop? And hence, what I like to call: The X Factor. Because I don’t care how smooth, awkward, or hot-or-not you are, the feelings have to be mutual. Ultimately, people end up together because they are both diggin’ on one another, and as with most animals in our kingdom, the female has the final say. It’s true gentlemen, no means no. But don’t give up, or take rejection too seriously because there is someone (and often many) out there for everyone…
