How to pick up in 5 minutes.

Amazing! Or so my friends were saying... 'How do you do it'? And it's true. We were at a club and I picked up in 5 minutes. Sometimes it just happens that way with me.

My advice. Dye your hair blonde- (we have more fun anyways) wear a low cut top and don't aim to pick up. It's the third one that is the hardest of them all. But seriously, I go out with my friends for my friends. Not for guys. And I think this is the key. 5 minutes and BANG! I'm being praised as a phenomenal kisser- AGAIN!

Let's call him Paul- after his favourite Geelong football player, Chappy. He was SOOOO excited that I was a Geelong supporter. I haven't had that since Trevor. And that was 10 years ago! Wow! A flashback to the guy who broke my heart. This time last decade was totally AWESOME! Anyway, Paul looked a little like Trevor too..... But I don't care. He was tall. And I think I liked him- just a little bit. He was strong and manly, yet dressed alright and seemed to have a brain.

The problem is that I could see right through him. There wasn't very much talking going on there. A lot of kissing, yes. But nothing of substance. He just wanted to get laid. And I just can't do that. Sometimes I really wish I could. Sometimes there is tension that I just carry around, sometimes for months and months, and I wish I could just let it out and go nuts. But..... I just can't do it. There is a process. Guys need to get to know me first. Ask questions, let me get a feel for them and eventually, if I still like them after the question exchange....

It is my shallow nature to equate looks and a nice kiss to another date. If I was going on list criteria, this guy does not make the cut- and reminds me a little of Hugh Grant's character in Bridget Jones' Diary. And I would be doing a Bridget Jones in letting him take me out for dinner. I don't know if this awareness is enough to stop me if the opportunity arises and I don't know whether this Paul guy, who calls me 'babe' (eek) and has a TERRIBLE taste in music, has my number for the ego boost of another female entry in his iPhone, with no intention of calling (as many do), OR whether it's under a category of girls entitled 'booty call', OR if he actually wants to take me out on a date. Actually, I lie. I know what he wants. And it's number 2. *sigh*

The thing about Paul, the marketer from Templestowe, was that there was inconsideration there. He chatted to the DJ rather than chatting to me. He left me waiting while he went to check up on his lonely man friend. And when he wasn't absorbed in those things, he just wanted nookie. A couple of drinks is the same as a bucket of chicken. I have declared on this blog that I can't be bought for that! I need to be spoken to! It's not actually that hard, but I don't know what has happened to romance. Because there seems to be a pattern here. This seems to be the way of picking up these days. Maybe it always was.... I don't know. But I seem to remember gentlemen. Alternatively, I could be being overly critical here. These guys might be hypnotised by my cleavage- and I wouldn't blame them. Upon walking back to my car, I witnessed several males ogling. Some stopped walking to stare (and salivate). Others yelled out 'HE..llo...'. Males. Your subtlety astounds me! ;-)

And while there are no surprises that I LOVE bad boys..... I'm too much of a goody two-shoes and ALWAYS leave them hanging for too long- and they wander into the ether with all the other guys I have rejected. An impossible prissy girl? Or a woman with a legitimate defense mechanism? I feel like both- it just depends on the situation and the guy in question. And with Paul, it's a legitimate defense mechanism. On the positive side, I MIGHT get a free meal out of it????