Alright Bois, listen up. I’ve got a spectacular failure for you.

Me and the squad roll up to a bar. There’s a line outside. My boy (we’ll call him Queue) likes to hang out a distance from the line and jump in when some HB’s roll up. It’s phenomenal.

Also side note, I want y’all to appreciate the nickname Queue because my mate is 1. British 2. wicked smaht and gives me tons of tips (like Q from James Bond) 3. likes to snipe queues.

Anyway we ride the line hollering at some hunnies until we get to the bouncer. Their group actually peels off and gets out of line to go somewhere else. Kinda weird, but I’m just out here to take swings. We ain’t in the majors yet.

We roll up to the bahr and immediately I lose Queue. Where is this clown? The bar is kinda like this long hallway, so me and the squad wander down it until I find Queue posted up staring at the bar.

“We’re gonna talk to these Amazons,” he says.

I turn to see two sky scrapers. I’m 6’ 1” so it’s rare for height to throw me, but one of these girls was legit like 6’ 7”. The other one is probably 6’ 3”. I say, “Let’s go.”

As I walk forward, Queue grabs my arm and says, “You realize we’re gonna have to look up to THEM.”

I say something dumb and cocky like, “Height is just a number.” I sarge toward the bar.

Now I’ve been opening girls all night. I’m finally in the mindset where I can say, “Fuck it, let’s see what happens.” ProTip: I got here by setting a goal to holler at 100 women in 30 days. Try it out. Don’t worry about how hot they are or what they’ll say. Expect to fail. I honestly warmed up talking to dudes (like sports or the weather, or dumb shit like that), then worked up to chicks.

Anyway, I’m actually intimidated and I feel my pulse rising. For a second I get pissed at myself for getting nervous. Also, fuck your 3-second rule. When you’re good, like I was until this point that night, you can do that. But sometimes you gotta psych yourself up, like staring at a cold pool, build up the courage, and finally throw caution to the wind and jump in.

That being said, I’m actually a pussy. I get to the bar and some shorty-one-forty bro cuts between me and the gals and starts hollering at them. Jokes on him though, I was gonna bitch out. I open the group of gals next to them. These girls are the type I was trying to take home or date, but I thought it would look good if I the Amazons saw me hollering. Also, remember that I’m a pussy and this was a stalling tactic.

So the girls that were supposed to be an easy warm up were ice queens. I get blow out almost immediately. This happens occasionally with sets that I think I should absolutely dominate, and a part of me wonders if they think that I’m too attractive to be actually hitting on them. Side note: I am not attractive. Sometimes they turn out to be mean lesbians. I say “mean lesbians” because occasionally you have a really great convo with nice lesbians. This might have been the former.

It’s my buddies turn to buy drinks and I haven’t eaten anything since like noon so I ask him to get me a Snickers and a redbull vodka. Champion fuel. I start nervously knawing on this Snickers when I notice shorty-one-forty has struck out. Get rekt’d bro.

My mouth is completely dry. I give my drink to Queue because I want to pretend to get a drink at the bar so I can holler at these Amazons, but I’m still hungry as hell. So I actually roll up to the bar still eating this fucking candy bar. Always approach from the side.

I saunter up and hit the Wonder Women with my go to open: The Two-Part Kiss Opener (shout out to my buddy Style). It’s an opinion opener and they don’t hate it. Mid opener I realize I’m standing here looking like a straight up child with this candy bar in my hand. So I low-key just put it in my pocket. Gotta save that shit for later. Man I was hungry, Next I hit them with the Best Friend’s Test. They love that shit, like recoiling with laughter. I ask how they know each other. They play volley ball (Duh!).

Now I reach the point that I do in many sets where I draw a blank and don’t know what else to say. I tell the ladies it was nice meeting them and eject from the set.

I roll back to the squad who’s been standing behind them and watching everything.

“Be cool guys, be cool. They might be watching.” My boy, we’ll call him Hearts because he’s a frat star with a heart of gold, immediate puts out his hand for a high-five.

This is where the story should have ended. But you boi hand Queue backing him up.

“That set is re-enterable,” he says. No shit. I thought I was burned. I look over my shoulder to see the girls facing out from the bar rather than toward it like they were when I entered.

“I don’t know what to say!” I’m still drawing a blank. And now I have to build up some courage again.

I turn and hit ‘em with a cold read, “Y’all look like the adventurous type.” Turns out one of them was going to study abroad in England.

Side note: The second rule of hollering is that if you open, you get to pick. I had picked the shorter one in the team huddle right before this. Queue gives me shit, saying, “Of course you pick the short one.” I happen to be the tallest in the squad so he is understandably not bitter about it at all.

Anyway, the shorter one said the magic words so OF COURSE I have to introduce them to my friend Queue. He’s from England! My boy jumps in and starts winging like a champ. Total boss. The short one is high energy and losing interest. Me and Queue are talking to the tall one (remember, these girls are both tall AF). Anyway, the tall one tells me how the short one’s boyfriend is in England. Shit. She also seems to be hooking on me.

I lean over to Queue, “Talk to the friend.”

“Which one?” He’s understandably confused. I’m in a bit of a panic because I think the tall one is going to notice”

“At the bar!” Hopefully she didn’t hear that. My man doesn’t miss a beat and starts hollering at the short one.

So we start talking to these gals. The tall one is actually asking me questions (thank God) because I was still struggling to come up with things to say. I try to run some kino but I come up against an interesting problem: one of my go-to moves is putting my hand on the small of a girl’s back. Problem is, that target is legit like three feet north of what I’m used to. I almost touch her butt but thankfully find her back, which is legit at my shoulder. That fear of miscalibrating would stick with me for the remainder of the set.

Queue is an absolute champ thru all this. We were both fading before this set. The short one is very bitter about guys chickening out from talking to her because of her height. Turns out their both self conscious about their height because people ALWAYS mention it. Note to self: never mention a tall girl’s height.

Then short girl does something interesting. She starts putting on lip gloss and sarges over to open a set of dude where one of the guys hard chickened out from talking to her. Still don’t know if that’s because she wanted to talk to the guy, or if it was some vengeful play like, “I’m going to talk to him anyway.” Whatever.

The tall one is still pretty enamored with me. She is very tickled about my job and tells her friend what I do for a living multiple times. I hit my convo wall again. Oh no. Just then I see Queue dancing around behind the girl in my field of view. He snaps silently, then pantomimes writing on his hand.

Oh. I should ask for a number. I get the number. Queue would tell me later that a squad of random bros made eye contact with him and nodded approvingly. One guy even said, “Respect.”

Tall girl goes to find her friend. The squad decides to leave. I walk over, tell her I’m leaving, and get a big hug. Scene.

I’d go on to text her the next day. Currently I’m ghosted. My text game is trash. Hell of a ride though. And a legendary holler.