WARNING: If you're the type to get squeemish easily, you may want to skip this one.

A few months ago, I paid a visit to my favorite local bar with the goal of gaining pick-up experience, per usual. While playing a round of pool with a guy I met there, I noticed a woman sitting alone with her drink. Her hair was short and spikey....revealing Chinese characters tattooed on the back of her neck. I made my approach by asking what they meant in English....and she told me they were the names of her two daughters. From there, I found myself pulled into a conversation about her family drama, her interest in astrology, and her case of terminal cancer. That last part, combined with her age (47), seemed to communicate a narrative of a lonely older woman looking forget her troubles and have a good time while she still can....and I was more than happy to give her that. The conversation bounced from her sharing fond memories of her family....to harsh struggles with chemo. She even had visible marks on her skin from the treatment....though she was still the best looking woman in the room. Now, here's a thing about me.....my ethnicity is hard to figure out from the visual alone, so when she asked about it, I decided to make her guess......a bit of mystery to keep her interested.....and it seemed to work, wither periodically asking for the answer throughout the 2-hour conversation....and each time, I refused to tell. Simply telling her I might reveal it before I leave. Aside from touching her hand on the table, I didn't apply much KINO. Another topic of conversation she brought up was the surgical enhancements to her boobs and butt. If that was an invitation to take the conversation in a more sexual direction, I completely missed it in the moment. When the lights finally came on at Last Call, she announced that she was about to leave. I asked what she had planned for tomorrow and she gave a laundry list of mundane errands (both for herself and for her kids). She stood up and shook my hand, saying it was nice meeting me. But to my surprise....she kept talking. She repeated the handshake and goodbye routine another time but didn't physically leave the table until I stood up and went to the bathroom (I really had to go). So she stood at the bar and paid her tab while I was in the restroom and when I returned....she was gone.

If you have suggestions for how I could've steered the encounter in a more intimate direction, feel free to leave them in the comments. And if you think I've left out any vital information in this field report, let me know and I'll gladly fill you in.