It being Sunday, and me being tired, my game was on fire, because the amount of fucks I was giving or strategic thoughts about seduction were next to nil. We landed at a club--”we” being a couple fun-loving Aussie’s and HB. The Aussies and I have a rollicking good time, dancing like a bunch of retarded monkeys. It’s a nearly-empty sausage fest in the club, and HB is shy in the corner, shaking her hips a bit whenever I look at her. I try to spin her around, get her involved, but she’s not down, so I leave her alone and keep enjoying myself. An hour later, I guess, she pulls me aside, and says she wants some air.

So I take her outside to a couch I know in the corner of the sitting area, and I’m thinking to myself, this is awesome. This is really fucking awesome. I’ll chat for a bit and work my way up to my move.

Our conversation veers from her shitty jealous boyfriend into how hard it is for her to be a pretty girl in a nightclub and how tragic her life is as a pretty girl. How all of these guys feel so fucking entitled. How one guy rubbed his stiffy against her, how a few grabbed her ass, and how if one more fucking asshole interrupts her conversation to ask for her “female opinion,” or just to introduce himself or say she’s pretty, she will tear his fucking head off.

I just kindof sit there and listen, laughing to myself at how ironic it is that I’m sitting here, trying to figure out whether it’s better, seduction-wise, to cut the conversation thread, or dive into the fucking thing and see what happens if I just listen, learn, and try to identify, offering some insight from my experience of learning how to be that guy who interrupts girls like her in the bar without considering that I’m like the fiftieth person to do that, and then thinking she’s a bitch if she blows me out.

Perhaps out of laziness, I went with the latter, and as she was telling me all of the times she’s been creeped on or nearly raped, and how it’s like impossible to have a real conversation with a man, I start getting really numb and nervous. So I tell her just that (feeling nervous and vulnerable near her) in a half-hearted attempt to play the “I’m no better than any of those other guys; I’m sitting here, trying to listen to you, but just thinking you are so fucking gorgeous and even more gorgeous when I listen to your totally-perspective-shattering rant” card, but I never make it to the part about her being gorgeous and me being no better than those other guys (i.e. I just said I was feeling a little nervous, which was a little awkward but overlooked, because this girl really liked talking about herself as tragically beautiful).

I wish I could tell you that eventually I made a move on her or something, but to be honest I’m not sure that would have been the best idea. All I can say is that, if it did work, that would have been fucking epic.

Would you guys have gone for it? How would you guys deal with “all men are horny bastards” shit test?**