Something that is constantly confusing to people is that I have dated (and been married to) some incredibly beautiful women. My ex-wife was pretty. I’ve dated models in Vegas, actresses in Los Angeles, a former Pussycat Doll, and probably the single most beautiful property manager in the world. Now, while I am currently single and dating my right palm, the fact is that I’ve consistently been able to bat WAY out of my league…and people wonder how the heckI do it.
I’m going to reveal my two secrets, but first, you’re going to have to put up with a rather long story. I’m a writer and get paid by the word. Deal with it.
When I was out and actively touring – doing comedy shows or conventions – I spent an insane amount of times in bars and clubs. And it was great because, truthfully, it was the only time a guy like me has the chance to hang out in a public with non-geeks. On stage I’m OK as long as there is a bright light behind me or you have to squint. I can pass for almost average up on stage, so the dim lighting in a bar really helps my cause.
As an ugly dude in bars, and an ugly nerd in particular, I have to get creative because I don’t have a whole hell of a lot to work with. Me at a bar is like trying to do a low budget movie – we’ve got to do as much as possible with no budget in order to hit our goal. In my case, that goal was to get laid. So I had to get creative – be more creative than all the good looking dudes, those big budget movies looking to capture box office dollars. Or women.
Luckily for me, I have two bullets in my bar-gun that work beautifully. One is tequila shots, which I’m going to come back to. The other is something that was given to me by a woman who by all rights should have been awarded a Nobel Prize.
That woman was Marcy the Tattoo Girl in Boonton New Jersey.
Let’s cue a flashback scene to 1991, when my buddy, Punk Rock Don, took me to a mall piercing/tattoo shop near where we went to school in rural New Jersey. Don was there getting his 50th piercing and I was there looking out of place in my shorts, flip flops, and Hawaiian shirt. Marcy, an incredibly cute girl with short pink hair and a body covered in tats, came over and watched me draw for a second before grabbing my sketchbook and proclaiming she was going to give me a tattoo. Now, I was a squeamish, nerdy, introverted and very chubby 18 year old at the time, so when a cute girl with pink hair told me I was going to get a tattoo, I was torn. But I went with her because she smelled like stripper and what man can resist the smell of Pina Colada butt lotion.
She picked a dragon I’d drawn out of my sketchbook and told me she’s going to ink it on me…down south. I’m going to pass on the entire project when she says, if I can keep it up while she works, she’s going to provide oral pleasures.
I’m intrigued by her proposition, but realistically, unless she can get it done in 30-45 seconds, I know my chances are slim to none. She says it’ll take 30 minutes. And I’m like, ‘Lady, if I could keep it up for 30 minutes in a row, I wouldn’t be the kind of guy who goes to comic book school.’
When all is said and done – after a round of crying, thanking, and apologizing (as has been the case of all of my sexual encounters to date) – I’ve got a dragon tattoo just below my belt. For this I am now eternally grateful to Marcy the Tattoo Girl from Boonton, New Jersey because, at a bar, it has done some amazing things for me.
Usually it goes like this. A woman will see my Arashikage forearm tattoo and ask if I have any others. I’ll mention I have another one but don’t like to talk about it. When you tell a woman, especially one who has had some alcohol, that you don’t want to talk about something, she’ll fixate on it. After a few more requests where I drop a few more details (it’s someplace I can’t show people…it’s personal…it’s below my belt…it’s a dragon), a drunk woman will almost beg to see the Dragon. And that’s where the plan comes together.
I have to admit, asking a girl if she wants to kiss the dragon has worked waaaaay more than it should have for this fat, homely bastard.
The other bullet in my gun is a lot more straight forward, but, being an inventive guy, I added my own twist on things that take it to another level. That other bullet is tequila shots. Everyone loves shots at a bar – yell out SHOTS at any bar and see what happens. People go crazy.
That’s where my twist comes in. As soon as we arrive at a bar, I begin ordering Midori Sours – a delicious beverage, but also one that doesn’t inspire the greatest sense of masculinity. When ordering, I make sure anyone around me knows what I’m drinking. I play the long game. After a while, I’ll venture over to a single woman, or even a group of woman because I have no fear – my default state at a bar (and in life) is NO SEX, so the worse they can do is keep things status quo – and I ask them for help.
I’ll point back to my buddies and say they’ve been making fun of me all night over my choice of scrumptious green apple alcohol. They’ll chuckle a bit, generally uncomfortably, but they’ll interact. That’s my opening. A laugh. From there I can perform…and, as a fat, homely, nerd, performance is the only way I succeed. Not performance in bed, because by that point I’m hoping they’re drunk enough not to notice.
Like the T-1000 targeting a younger John Connor, I’ll ask one of the women if she’ll teach me how to do a tequila shot so the guys will stop making fun of me. They almost always say yes, especially if one of my buddies comes over and continues the mocking. Once the shots arrive, my true evil genius comes into play. No matter how specific the girl is – and I shouldn’t be telling you this because it’s top secret guy shit – no matter how good her instructions are, I mess the shot up. Always. I do the bits out of order. Lime, Drink, Salt. Boom. That sells the entire scenario and opens the door to…?
With no exceptions, every woman I’ve done that to has gotten frustrated and demanded another round of shots so I can get it right. Generally 2 tequila shots in 5 minutes and I seem like a funny guy — generally my humor overcomes my homeliness once you mix in some tequila. If not, I may make the mistake 2-3 more times! Works even better than the dragon.