GeekForce

As crushingly counfounding as hooking up with a new lady is, I’ve engendered a lot of higher-quality ’pre-date’ dialogs and subtle techniques due to my vast amount of (mostly woefully unsuccessful) attempts at setting up dates and taking charge of my romance life. 

From my thousands, perhaps millions, of unsuccessful attempts in laying down the framework necessary for ’first dates”, I have become REALLY talented, then, at instantly evaluating and processing a new lady’s verbal/nonverbal signals and responses to a key word or phrase embedded in my initial idle banterings with her. 

This webstite, or at least this portion of the website, can’t really delve into physical touch and reaction (or lack thereof); it’s just a website.  We’ll stick, then, with normal conversation/subtle veral cues, staying well clear of her facial expressions, her body’s slight turns, etc. 

The ‘conversation’ component, relative to the highly complex nature of that which is a lady’s approval and desire, could easily fill volumes numerically ample to stuff the Statue of Liberty’s sculpted body all the way up to her eyeballs.  Further, people, probably our Mexican friends, would need to build upwards of 275 more green copper lady-statues to accomodate the millions of pages self-help authors have written–and that’s JUST the authors who ultimately jumped into deep lakes!

I am REALLY good at picking up on even the slightest hint of toleration/acceptance or untoleration/revulsion, of, if there was a measuring instrument to guage a lady’s approval, as sensitive as .000001% toward her inclination of acceptance or rejection of me, and I pick up readings nearly always in, oh, the first 2-3 minutes from our first ‘hello’ 

This, of course, is based entirely on her innocuous responses and replies to my idle banter and subtle-to-the-extreme overture (singular).  Lest we forget that human ladies posess well over 7,425% more astuteness and skill at performing this simultaneously with our efforts to do the same.   As their beauty, which is a constant, warrants, they’re quite obviously accustomed to being recipients of the “pre-picked up on” attempts by us rather than the other way around. That they have these astonishly broad and vast capabilities surprises noone; to think any dynamic in the world’s most maddeningly difficult endeavor (for a man) other than what’s outlined herein is folly,  akin to a guy attempting to shove Ultra-Brite toothpaste back into its tube after it’s formless goo is glued amidst the side of your childrens’ bathroom sink. 

 This, the pursuit of a lady, then, is what we may agree is the toughest challenge on earth, or at least since Picanthrpus Erectus stumbled around naked under the African sun, constantly dodging rocks hurled at him from his favorite lady Picanthripus Eructus’s lethal fastball grip.

 Anyway..I’ll illustrate a bit of what I mean:

 I go to wherever I happen to know she is, daytime, of course, and a restaraunt.  I position my place in her proximity. Once annoying clatter, distractions and interruptions are neutralized, I strike up a conversation.  This is providing, of course, she hasn’t, upon seeing me coming near, leaped feet-first through the cafe’s large front window, rolled onto the sidewalk to her feet, and sprinted to her narrow escape.

 I’ll work in the inevitable and spontaneous (unrehearsed works better for me) ’tag’ sentence, which is, in essence, my sharing with her how cool and relaxing it would be to enjoy a lunch at a (higher quality) eatery in these parts, coincidentally one that is convenient located near her workplace, office, or wherever. I DON’T (gasp) mention the words “us” or “we” yet; this is a precursor.  

That’s all it takes: simply execute the ‘pre-hook’ out sentence, and then you’ll get the signal you seek in the next words she utters.

 The rest is all about attentiveness. Any major dude can pick up signals–a ‘yay’ or ‘nay’, if you will, that if you’re sharp, that you’ll pick up immediately if you’re talented.  This is BEFORE or AFTER the ‘tag line’.  Repeat:  you need to be sharp here.  WHENEVER POSSIBLE, save thyself agony.  Listen.

If her words don’t indicate acclimation of the flow of your brief-yet-but-(not-too)veiled overture, well, the game’s over. You didn’t get killed, and you both emerge with equal parts comfort and dignity.  Stay and chat, why not?  Eat at another table, though, gentlemen.  It’s the pushy cads that screw it up for the rest of us! 

When you get the clear path to do so, hastily escape in your nearby vehicle, feigning an urgent call from your favorite pet’s veterinarian.  (whatever; ladies dig cats….er, sometimes). 

 Then someday, try, try again.  We live well over eighty years.  There’s time.   Maybe.