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Excerpt from "The Bitter Babe" Chapter

(Click Here for Printer Version)

Okay, we’ve discussed the bitter friend, but what about the bitter babe? The bitter babe is very different from the bitter friend. She is pretty and fed up with men and dating. Any woman can be a bitter babe at some point in her life.

A few years ago I was at a charity fundraiser thrown by an organization called the 20/30 Club. The club was started years ago by a bunch of young male professionals who wanted to meet more women, as well as help charities. They formed an organization that uses worthy causes and social events to bring professional singles together. Two great activities killed with one stone; what a great concept. The fundraiser was held at a bar called Jack Sullivan’s, which no longer exists, which is too bad because I did pretty well with women at that bar. (Every guy has a few bars where he has good success meeting women, and a few others where he can’t even get women to acknowledge he exists.)

One time at Jack’s, Steve and I ended up standing next to a group of pretty coeds who were looking for some action. They started pulling up each others shirts and flashing one another. It’s pretty easy to hook up with a woman when all a guy has to do is say, “Nice breasts.” Clearly, God—angry that I was successful with women at Jack’s—caused the bar to be closed.           

I went to the charity event at Jack’s with a few buddies. We were all looking to meet someone, not to hook up with, but to date. We arrived early enough to commandeer a table and chairs. We were there for only a few minutes when a pretty redhead and blonde walked into the bar. They walked past us and headed upstairs. I noticed the redhead glance back at me a few times. The two women set up shop near the railing of the second floor. They people-watched patrons on the first floor from their post. I caught the redhead looking at me a bunch of times within the first twenty minutes. I sized her up: very pretty, early thirties, 5’7”, good body, nice tight butt. Her breasts were a little more than a handful, which I liked. Her bright blue eyes were the kiss of death. They lured me in all the way, especially with their contrast to her long red hair.

She scanned the room relentlessly. She scrutinized guys. She seemed a little annoyed and crossed her arms repeatedly. She didn’t laugh or smile. I decided to remain at my table for the night and not hit on women. Bad strategy to meet the redhead, right? Wrong. Different types of women need to be approached using different tactics. A lot of guys use the same tactic to meet women. They go out, they approach a woman, if she’s not interested or has a boyfriend, they move on to the next one. The weakness with this tactic is that women notice when guys hop around from one woman to the next. This offends lots of them and is a huge turnoff. It only works for trixies, vain women, and girls with low self-esteem.

These three types of women have a strong need to feel like they are the most desirable woman in the room. If a guy hops around and gets positive attention from the women he approaches, he will pique the competitive interest of trixies and other women with low self-esteem. When he selects one of these girls, she feels like she has won out over the other girls. This is important to her. Confident women don’t need such an ego boost. They don’t care to talk to a guy who is so obviously on the prowl. (Incidentally, if a guy hops around and is shunned by most of the women he meets, which is often the case, girls with low self-esteem will hardly say a word to him; they don’t want to be associated with other women’s rejects.)

This explains why confident beautiful women, referred to by some as “tens” (I’m not into the whole numbering system), sometimes date physically less-than-flattering guys. They know they are stunning and they have nothing to prove, so they don’t have the trixie competitive nature. They don’t need other women to be jealous of them in order to feel complete. Instead, they can simply go out with whomever they wish, as in the case of Nikki Cox and Bobcat Goldthwait.

Why don’t I like the numbering system? It’s inconsistent. A ten to one guy is often a seven to me and vice-versa. What’s the criteria? The system is too subjective to answer that question. Lots of guys give women with big fake breasts high numbers. I don’t find anything attractive about fake breasts and give these same women low numbers. Lots of magazines rate Halle Berry as the prettiest woman in Hollywood; I prefer Claire Forlani. It’s no secret why. Compare their eyes and remember my big weakness with women. Mostly, numbering is insulting to women. Instead, I just describe the woman and guys can assign her a number based on their own preferences, if they so wish.

The redhead wasn’t a trixie. She didn’t show signs of low of self-esteem. She watched various guys operate and seemed to criticize them to her friend. Every now and then, she glanced in my direction. What did she see when she checked on me? A guy just hanging out with his friends. I talked only to the women who were near us or who approached me. I was not on the prowl.

A lot of guys checked out the redhead but she was not approachable. She did not look like she was out to meet anyone. One guy did manage to talk to her at length. He was big, probably 6’4” with a solid build, about my age, twenty-eight. He’d talk to her for a while then go hit on younger women. When that didn’t pan out, he returned to her until other young trixies caught his eye. He’d go talk to them and then return. Eventually, he reduced his hopping around to just the redhead and one young trixie. Who would be the one lucky enough to nab him? Through it all, the redhead kept checking on me. I waited patiently. The big guy’s tactic wasn’t going to work on her, so I didn’t concern myself with him. My friend Steve showed up and I pointed out the big guy while making fun of his tactics, which is exactly what the redhead was doing with her friend. I knew she’d see me doing it, too.

It was really funny. The big guy was treating the redhead and the trixie the same. This is one big flaw with a lot of the books that give advice to guys on dating—they treat all women the same. The advice they give is geared primarily toward meeting, and typically nailing, shallow, pretty women. But, they insist that the advice is good for all women. They basically lump all women together into one mold. Unfair. That’s like suggesting all baseball players are the same just because they play baseball. Certainly not true; some are better hitters, some pitch, some field better, and so forth. It is the same for women, which is why the key to success starts with observation and has little to do with following a set procedure.

The bar thinned out as closing time neared. The redhead stood alone, still watching people over the rail. Her friend was busy talking to some guy; the big guy was talking to the trixie. It was time to make my move. I headed up the stairs and walked over to her. I didn’t say anything but instead leaned over the rail, looking where she was looking. I waited a few moments before speaking, “You’ve been up here all night watching people. So tell me, what are we looking at?”

She pointed to different patrons, “Well, that guy wants to go home with her, and she likes him, and that big guy there looks like a boring fuck anyway, and that guy there is gay and doesn’t know it.”

The “big guy” she referred to was the one who had been hitting on her earlier. She went on about him, “He just wants to pick up some young woman. The whole thing is pathetic, all these people trying to lie their way into bed. I’m so sick of the dating scene. If you wanna fuck me, just say you wanna fuck me, you know?”

Direct and honest. I like that in a woman. It’s a sign of maturity and confidence. I caught a glimpse of Steve approaching out of my eye. He arrived just in time to hear “If you wanna fuck me, just say you wanna fuck me.” He shook his head in disbelief. I could have said I wanted to fuck her. A lot of guys would have, but that was the wrong way to go. She’d know I was just saying what I thought she wanted to hear, and that would annoy her.

She was hurt that the big guy was going after a younger edition and she wasn’t going to put up with that shit. What did she want? To be fucked? To leave with the big guy? She wanted a victory; not a victory as in a guy, but rather a victory in the form of being one up on men. I was happy to give it to her; she deserved it. In response to her fuck-me line, without missing a beat, I gave my reply, “Wow. You’ve stumped me. No one’s ever stumped me, but you just did.”

She smiled, “Really?”

We spoke for about ten minutes. She was very bitter. Along with being upset at the big guy and with dating in general, she was overworked at a job she hated, angry with a guy she was “kind of dating,” and upset with her family. I needed to change her focus to find success.

“Would you like to dance?”

“There’s no dance floor.”

I stepped into her, “There is now.”

She smiled again and I put my arms around her. Steve and I took a few turns dancing with her before he left. After he was gone, she and I began to kiss. Her name was Lisa. Soon the bar began to close. I walked Lisa outside. She did not say goodbye to the big guy, who had since been ditched by the trixie.

I wanted Lisa. She stirred me up and I found her to be a breath of fresh air from the trixies saturating the bars I had been to recently. When we got outside, she immediately hailed a cab. I figured she’d jump in with a quick blurb that it was nice to meet me and drive away. Instead, she opened the cab door and looked at me, “So, are we going back to your place or mine?”

Wow, what a wonderful surprise! I lived closer, so we headed to my place.

Cab drivers probably make their most money picking up a couple headed for a one-night stand. I gave him twenty dollars for an eight-dollar ride and we got out of the cab. A guy on the verge of getting lucky doesn’t want to wait for change. That’s just more time for the woman to change her mind. He wants the cab gone as soon as possible, before the girl has a change of heart and decides to take the cab home. Guys about to have one-night stands make for big tips.

 

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