Game Review: The Walk

Wednesday night is church education night at my relatives’ place. One of my cousin’s teaches a parenting class to a score of other people including some of my other cousins. They all bring their kids over. I have no kids and I’m not into their revival style, so I help wrangle all the tots instead of sit in and learn useless religious things. Usually by the end of it, I’m in the need for a drink. This time, I told myself I wouldn’t spend a dime on drinks. I’m going to walk to the bars (2 miles away) and just game outside. This would be a sober approach night. Yeah, that didn’t last long.

I was sitting outside Lounge 33 at the Riverside Plaza talking to a buddy going through some hard shit. As I’m talking to him I see a group of three chicks walk by the club, stop, turn and decide to go in. I immediately target the one truly dressed up, a good girl 7. The other two just put on a jacket or whatever over their normal clothes. After finishing up the conversation (iPhone batteries suck by the way), I go in to Lounge 33 and sit up right next to the group and order a Corona. My hearts beating hard again, like anxiety style, but I keep my eyes to the TV or look around. The place is a tiny ass dance club. Its shape is better sized for a Subway, but it works. Not to long after I saddle up, Dressy Chick drops her phone near me and leans over in my direction trying to grab it. I just stare and laugh. After she’s finally grabbed it, I say “What was going on there?” She just laughs. As the music drops, I say “So what are you guys doing dressed up on a Wednesday?” Emphasis on that its probably a slow, slow day for partying.

“Its kind of a bachelorette party.” Oh, son of a bitch, really?

“Oh? Who’s getting married?” Not you. Dear God, not you.

She points to herself. “Me.” Dammit!

I raise my beer. “Congrats on that!” and she turns back to her two friends.

After my beer’s done I leave.

Wednesday night is Taco Night at the Sire, so of course I head over there since the Plaza bars are completely dead. Taco Night is always a big night for this place. I walk in, say hi to a few guys I know, grab a Jack and Coke and go outside to make a call. Yes, Maria. No, she didn’t answer. Yes, it frustrated me. No, not for long. I go back in and sit, taking generous gulps. I watch the talent move in and out of the patio area. I get a second drink, close out and head out there with an eye on a cute chick showing off all her chesty stuff. I sit right next to their table and quickly overhear what I thought was couple talk between the guy there and the tits chick (I’m still not sure if they’re together or what). After I finish my smoke I’m in the motion of getting up to ask their third wheel, my new target, for a light. Out of nowhere my target leans into me and asks for a light.

Btzz btzzzz… (sparks and busted wires) “Um, I think mine just ran out.”

“Oh, really?”

“No, wait,” I fumble around my pockets pretending to look for my other lighter, which I have, just at home. “Oh, here it is.” I light her smoke. “Yeah, it was the other one that went empty so I tossed it.” Nice, dude, nice.

She points over to tits. “Can you light her’s too?”

Oh fuck me, why not? “Sure.” Tits leans in and has a little trouble making sure the end gets in the flame. I tease her about it. She says something in response, but I didn’t hear nor did I care. I try to use the line I had to open tits, “Is one of you getting married?” and it totally flops, of course. Afterwards, I sit back in my seat and sip at my drink. Approach #2 busted by my own goddamn line.

Tits and the third wheel leave soon after Daisy (due to her extremely short shorts) sits down with them. Daisy dresses trashy, but damn if she doesn’t have a nice body. 7.5, just ’cause there were curves in all the right places. The guy, who is drunk, and Daisy talk like they’re siblings or they’ve fucked. Daisy apparently is in the process of breaking up with her boyfriend over the phone. I just sit and watch. When the guy gets up to get beer or piss or whatever, I move in and offer a cigarette since she just finished hers. When her phone blows up with her boyfriend on the other line, I just plop down across from her and wait. For what had to be at least half and hour, I sit and watch her and her boyfriend scream at each other, her and the guy argue as he goes from good friend to “I don’t blame him”. It was hilarious.

After a final calming down, she moves around the table. I have my feet up on the chair next to me, but when she walks over and tugs on the chair, I smile and offer it. She sits and the smallest of coversation happens. The guy wants to leave (“I’m tired”).

I look at her. “Ah, c’mon, you can stay, right?”

She ignores the question, but introduces herself. They go back into the bar and I sit there, content. A minute later I decide to go, considering my night good. I head to the pisser and on my return Daisy and her friend are still at the bar, getting another drink. My cup in hand, I go up and pretend to be getting another as well. I open my phone to contacts and when she looks at me I smile and go, “Hey, I never got your number?”

A giant grin comes over her face. “Oh, you’re good.”

I grin back. “Good enough to get a number?”

Cha-ching.

She’s a bar chick on the other side of the “river” here in Riverside. I think I’ll just hit up the place my next go out.

Overall review: I approached, I opened, I number closed. My only mistake was the shit luck of having my own line used on me.

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Cinco de Santa Monica

Many lessons learned tonight. Things I knew but needed to see. Things I should of known but went with habit instead of what works. I had one good prospect out of the 7-10 women in the bar. I saw her looking at me, so I said “Hi” very nonchalantly and held her gaze. Her eyes darted away, head turning towards the karaoke screens and remained entirely silent. I shrugged and went back to my beer.

Yeah, that was the best chance I had tonight.

What I knew:

  • Going solo is hard. That’s obvious, since people go out in groups usually. Finding a decent single woman at a bar without anyone is like finding a Dodger fan with real hope.

What I learned:

  • Don’t go to a British pub on Cinco de Mayo. That should have been obvious, but habit told me to go for it. Things is about pubs is they’re usually sausagefests, which is great for a drink and watching the game, but I was looking for chicks. The 3rd Street Promenade wasn’t the best choice either, three-quarters of the places were closed when I got there. It was pretty deserted.
  • Don’t belly up to the bar next to the one guy who can’t shut the fuck up. Every time the Angels hot tub showed up during game coverage he would stand and point, trying to get a bartender to look. One of the bartenders actually included me in the conversation to get him off his back.
  • Piss before engaging. If she’d actually started talking to me, I would have had to break it off early on to head for the bathroom. Luckily, she rejected me and saved my bladder from learning yoga.
  • I can read situations well. As soon as the prospect and her friend sat at the bar, I could tell the posh looking brunette was pushy and probably attached. My blond was, at the very least, the follower. She looked out of her element, slightly bored and was indecisive about picking a karaoke song. Her friend kept pushing until the brunette’s boyfriend/fucktoy/hair gel salesman showed up. This was when I realized that even if I reengaged, I had no chance. He engaging both of them quite well. Any interjection would seem creepy and unwarranted. After I came back from the bathroom, the blonde’s boyfriend or The Situation clone’s friend was right next to her, axing any chance that wouldn’t result in conflict. And I’m not ready for that just yet.
  • Find someplace in the San Bernardino Valley. All that driving for horrible odds is a total waste of money. I’ll hit the beach bars when I move closer to it.

I did get to see a bouncer beat the shit out of a drunk kid trying to get in to a live music club right next to Parking Structure 5. It was great to watch the party guys look scared and completely confused about what to do. One guy even wanted to take the drunk kid’s side until he saw the bouncer win, then apologized profusely for whatever reason. I just leaned on the lamp post and smoked. The Santa Monica PD showed up really fast, probably called beforehand when the kid wouldn’t leave.

All and all, a good night. I approached, I remained cool and I saw what I did wrong. Baby steps.