Just a heads up, this post is long, because I like telling stories, but it features uses of cocky funny, Negging, the Checkmate maneuverer, Push Pull, False Takeaways and Boyfriend Destroyer patterns.
So if you're down, keep reading.
Picture the scene - myself and the lads out at some trendy indie bar in the middle of London, repping mad love for the indie girls... Anyway, we're hammered, it's one of those nights where you just feel like drinking till you don't feel feelings anymore you know? We're on the dance floor, and I spy some drop-dead-gorgeous brunette and her dumpy little friend stood across from us, getting drooled over by a couple of knuckle-draggers.
You know the type, Donkey Kong wearing a Fred Perry polo shirt, that particular strain of alphadog douchebag that you find floating about in places like this.
For you Americans reading this, think Jersey Shore.
Anyway, Donkey-Bro is getting all handsy with the brunette, and she is OBVIOUSLY freaking out about it. So I half-drunkenly stick out my hand and yell over the music:
Me: Need saving?
HB: YES, THANKYOU SO MUCH!
I pull her over, giving her hand a little squeeze, dumpy friend joins us, and we have a little dance. I've no Justin Timberlake, but I was drunk, so a little dance was no biggie, but after spending five minutes trying to yell stuff to each other I directed the group to the bar.
Cheeky little alpha move there, pulling her away from Donkey-Bro and then ordering the group around, just by the way.
So at the bar, hammering shots and trying to stay tipsy, I Isolate HB using the checkmate move from The Game (a classic, but underrated move), leaving my two buddies to deal with the friend, and initiate the surrounding sets at the bar with the girl as a wing.
Me: Aren't you a bit dressed up for this place?
HB: She's just become single so we're celebrating!
Me: Congratulations! What about you then, are you celebrating too?
HB: Nah, I've got a boyfriend, but he's a d1ckhead.
Me: Ah well that's awkward, I was planning on hitting on you all night, oh well, shots?
I return to the group, get more drinks, and move the conversation onto every subject other than her boyfriend, a false takeaway where I removed myself as an option and fell off the radar as a guy hitting on her, despite having announced my intentions earlier. It's all push pull, at that moment, whilst she's sipping on her drink, she's eyeing me up trying to figure out if I'm hitting on her or not, and she's liking the idea of it.
For the rest of the night, I adopt them, guide them around the room, introduce them to friends, they buy us drinks, we buy them drinks, we dance, and we have a damn good time.
By 3am, when the club has closed, we're still in full swing, and head to an after-hours bar. Now the group consists of me and my two guys, two HB8s who are accompanying them, and my brunette, who for the purposes of the story, we'll call Isobel. We're all chilling in a large booth at this bar, laughing and joking like we've known each other for ages. My wings and their girls act as perfect wings as they state how cute a couple we are, with one of the girls asking Isobel how long we'd been together. I owe so much to my wings for the boyfriend destroyer there; they were framing us as this couple, saying we looked good together, etc.
A clinching moment though, was when my wing asked how we met (knowing full well what the truth was, the sneak):
Wing: So how'd you two meet then?
Me: Well Izzy was on a Ferris wheel with some guy, and I just knew she should be with me instead, so I hung from the carriage in front of them until she begged me to go out with her...
A "The Notebook" reference. I'd found out earlier that it was one of Isobel's favourite films, so as soon as that reference came out, accompanied by a couple of quotes (don't judge me, it's a great movie), she snuggled up into my arms, and the night was as good as over.
Walking her home we separated from the group, strolling hand in hand as we looked up at the stars.
All the way through the night I'd shown how much fun me and my friends were, how I was a leader, how much better I was than her boyfriend.
No ego required here, I'm sure her ridiculously toned, athletic, rugby playing boyfriend is better for me, but that night, he didn't stand a chance.
The second our lips touched...
Well it was obvious...
But Game Over.
Cheers for reading
Jack A.k.a. Volta