For the fourteenth installment of my "Day-Crawlers in the Mist" series, I would like to share with you the roots of this series and my observatory travels...the origins, as it were. Be warned, though, it is not a pretty picture...
In the Beginning, there was Seth...
It was about six years ago this year in which I found myself at a watering-hole in close proximity to my own dwelling. I had just come out of an incredibly horrible and very long-term relationship (more like a business transaction) with an amazingly cruel and greedy woman...but at least I was free from her...cut cold turkey. This watering-hole allowed me to drown my sorrows of wasting away the better part of my twenties and early thirties to this Succubus into an endless glass of white wine (ice on the side, please) night after night as I tried to silence the thoughts of suicide that constantly threw pin-prick attacks at my vulnerable brain. This watering-hole quickly became a sort of sanctuary for me, even though I clearly did not match the rest of the clientele...it was (and still is) a dive-y sports bar. One fear was that I was going to be glued to the same bar stool until I, too, turned into one of these bitter and lonely old men that only drank away the time until death inevitably whisked them away from their sorrow, or end up a character in a Billy Joel song.
As I sat there, sipping on my pain numbing nectar, I developed the art of observing people while remaining undetected. I perfected my lip-reading skills as well as honing my peripheral vision as to not appear to be directly looking at someone or something while I followed their every move, if need be. Even my trusty notebook (back then it was an ordinary spiral bound notepad) became an invaluable accessory...if I look very busy, people around me are completely convinced I have tuned them out.
Soon enough, I made a group of collective friends that included the entire staff and the more predominant regulars. I was definitely the weird and odd duck in the place, granted, but my class-clown appeal insured that my tight little spot at the deep corner of the bar was my court, stage, and perch...from there I would see all!
After some time I got to meet and casually know a semi-regular to the establishment known as Seth (name was changed to...well...you'll find out why). Seth was a young, 2nd generation Irish fellow in his mid-twenties. A short, yet built, frame topped with a military issue styled buzzed haircut. He was brash, arrogant, egocentric, and (Irish stereotype aside) a professional drunk. Above all, however, Seth was an elite pick-up artist in a class all of his own!
Soon enough, I made a group of collective friends that included the entire staff and the more predominant regulars. I was definitely the weird and odd duck in the place, granted, but my class-clown appeal insured that my tight little spot at the deep corner of the bar was my court, stage, and perch...from there I would see all!
After some time I got to meet and casually know a semi-regular to the establishment known as Seth (name was changed to...well...you'll find out why). Seth was a young, 2nd generation Irish fellow in his mid-twenties. A short, yet built, frame topped with a military issue styled buzzed haircut. He was brash, arrogant, egocentric, and (Irish stereotype aside) a professional drunk. Above all, however, Seth was an elite pick-up artist in a class all of his own!
I closely watched Seth at every opportunity when our paths crossed at the mutual watering-hole. His basic tactic was to play the "Numbers Game," whereas if you hit on 100 females and you only get one to respond positively, that's all you really need; however, what I found fascinating was that his technique was distinctly routine...and wonderfully predictable!
On any given night, Seth would walk onto the watering-hole grounds and order a beer. As he awaited his magical elixir, he would quickly scan the horizon for females, much like a Gator would in search of male clients, and expertly feigned greeting his male acquaintances...who posed no apparent threat to his mission, might I add. Seth would start at the far end of the bar from my position and literally chat up every female, going up the chain, one by one, until he found one who was responsive to his advances or wait for new prey to enter. Time and time again, he found a Day-Crawler female with just enough lowered self-esteem or "daddy issues" to consider his random act of attentive kindness to be something completely genuine and sincere. It became so blatant that over the months of observing him it basically became: "Hey! You wanna have sex? No? Oh well...Movin' on... Hey! You wanna have sex? No? Oh well...Movin' on... Hey! You wanna have sex? No? Oh well...Movin' on..." and for the most part of the time he found some female to accept!
The one-night stands were aplenty, he once proudly proclaimed to me. His manner was so primal and animalistic that, in my mind, I classified him as a sexual predator of the highest caliber. There was a super-confidence to him that I could not comprehend, beyond fueled by liquid courage. It was rather unnatural! Let me cite some cases to prove my point...
CASE # 129: THE GIRL OF ZOG --
Zog Sports is a some sort of social/fundraising organization in which a bunch of 20 to 30 something coeds get together after (yuppie hour-ed) work to play team sports like softball, kickball, or the like (to hearken back to the nightmare that was gym class for the rest of us), and then go to a nearby (sponsoring) bar to get drunk on Monday or Tuesday nights. For Day-Crawlers, it is an interesting way to meet new people and network, as they all wear the same ridiculous, brightly colored tee-shirts and baggy shorts...in this way they all already know what the others, whether male or female, will look like as they just rolled out of bed in a sweaty mess.
On this particular day, as I walked in, I noticed that the Zog festivities were already in full swing. Seth was already there too, and was preoccupied with bouncing around like an excited little kid in a candy store as he habitually tried to chat up every female in the crowded space. The rejections from the women were abundant, but that little to deter the determined Seth. Soon enough I noticed him learning that he needs to lower his standards a bit and to focus his stalking on easier prey. As he comes closer to my end of the watering-hole, by a gap at the counter to which he orders another beer, a little wisp of a girl emerges from her grouping at a side table and sidles next to Seth to order another round of drinks for her and her friends. Seth took no time to pick up on her scent and his attention snapped to to her so fast you could have almost heard a whip crack!
She was a tiny, short haired brunette with large eyes filled with doe-y innocence. Her small stature was a disadvantage to her plight as the few alcoholic beverages she had already consumed were presently taking their toll on her brain and thus impeding her better judgement. As she waited for her drink order to materialize, Seth struck immediately with the speed and deadly precision of an angry rattlesnake.
He started off with an innocuous comment or remark about her drink order as he coolly placed both elbows on the bar counter, leaning forward thus causing his stature to be lower than hers, giving a false message of being submissive and aloof. The female responded by politely smiling and offering a light retort as a Day-Crawler would involuntarily do...only Goth women will tell someone they find annoying to go, "Fuck off and die in a pool of your own piss and blood," within the first 3 seconds of being approached. For the most part, more mainstream women will offer any male the "benefit of the doubt" for up to a minute or so...the crucial moment amount of time a Day-Crawler male tries, at all costs, to avoid making a complete and total ass of himself.
As the multiple drinks of her order began to pile up before her, Seth took the opportunity to make a slight, yet fact-finding joke at her expense: "Wow! You're really serious about getting hammered tonight," he said as he pointed out at all of the glasses and bottles.
"Oh no...(giggles)...these aren't all for me! They're for my friends over there," she informed as she pointed to a table behind her containing about six or seven people, including a rather sleepy hipster male somewhat nodding off in the corner. Seth looks back at the table and takes this chance to raise his torso, pivot his body to then face her, and place his right hand on the bar's edge, thus placing himself in the "Kok-Blok" position...from what I have been told. he now looms over her. He introduces himself and shoots forward his hand to expect it to be gingerly shaken. Again, being socially polite, she is forced to comply to divulge her first name (harmless enough, right?) and to gingerly shake his hand. Physical contact!
Whatever the name she says she is named, Seth continued with a gasped statement claiming that it is the same name of his mother/sister/favorite actress/favorite singer/childhood babysitter he had a "mad crush" on/etc. It didn't matter if it wasn't true...he didn't plan on marrying this "chick." Her response was the typical, "OHMYGAWD! That's so funny!" Something in common! The game was afoot...
The next move was to get closer. Seth makes some other random observation about her or a question about her interest in Zog sports which prompts another answer. He feigns that due to the loud music and/or the noisy crowd he suffered a bit of hearing loss and requests that she repeat herself as he bends forward to place his ear very close to her lips while she reiterates her initial statement. Close proximity!
The dilemma Seth faces now is that she must soon return to her thirsty friends with their drinks. He informs her that he thinks that they are hitting it off quite nicely, that she is awfully cute, and hopes that she will come back to talk to him some more. In a swift defensive maneuver the young female points toward the table and states, "Yeah, but I'm here with my boyfriend," singling out the "dude" who is now completely passed out in the corner. Seth eyeballs the heap of a boyfriend and replies with a chuckle, "Well, it doesn't look like he is really excited to be hear with you, right now!" Much to her embarrassment for her choice in men, she finds this to be true. He then says into her ear, "O.k., go bring your little friends their drink and then come back to find me here..." She obeys!
Soon afterward she returns to Seth at the bar, slightly more intoxicated. They both resume their ear-to-mouth conversation. This part of the dialogue I was not privy to, however, I was able to witness that Seth would occasionally touch her arm or shoulder when laughing about something or telling an amusing story. Soon enough, she was returning the increasing physical contact as well!
The next thing I know, within approximately 15 to 20 minutes of making first contact with this inebriated female, Seth is making out with her in full view of her oblivious friends and unconscious boyfriend! This goes on for about 4 minutes until one of her girlfriends notices the scandal happening at the bar and convinces her group to call it a night and scamper on home. Seth and his conquest are briskly separated and she is whisked away with her boyfriend in tow...the naughty encounter was over. Seth takes a moment to revel in the testosterone filled memory...takes a swig of his beer (possibly to disinfect), and notices a "hawt" blond standing at the jukebox at the opposite end of the bar. He saunters off in her direction...
CASE # 73: JUKEBOX HERO --
One of Seth's favorite hunting grounds of the watering-hole was the jukebox. This dispenser of primal rhythms was of the variety that was hooked up to the Internet to which you can search for millions of mainstream songs available for your listening pleasure...or to annoy the hell out of the rest of the barroom population with awful music. Interestingly enough, Day-Crawler females are 60 to 70 times more likely to play music from a jukebox than their male counterparts. Music strikes a primitive chord with these females (something I will address in an upcoming episode), and they were often found staring or poking at the touchscreen looking for "tunes."
This opportunity was too easy for Seth. If one (or two) female(s) found their way to the jukebox, he would lurk close behind to spy on her musical preferences. After three selections were made he could size up the favorite genre or band she was most interested in. He would sneak up behind her and innocently ask, "Would you be a dear and play a song for me?" This would usually be followed by a suspicious question from the female which sounds something like: "That depends...what do you want to hear?" This gives her a position of control. Seth would reply with a song title, band, or genre that is totally up her alley. Common ground!
Next, Seth would place himself somewhat directly behind her, but slightly off to her left side as they both stare at the screen to scroll, search, and peruse the song selections. He would then move in close to initiate the mouth-to-ear technique as they communicate further. Proximity!
The following tactical move was to establish some sort of physical connection. This was easily achieved by faking a bit of near-sightedness as he squinted at the screen, leans forward and lightly places his hand on the female's mid to lower back as leverage. One of two things could happen at this crucial impasse: First, the female senses the bodily contact, finds it unwarranted, and is taken aback by it. She recoils and states that he is being too forward. In this scenario, Seth would immediately remove his hand and place it in the air to demonstrate no ill intent while verbally apologizing for his faux-pas, maybe blaming it on something self-deprecating on his part (being tipsy; lost his balance; loss of eyesight; etc.), or something complimentary on her part (couldn't resist because of her beauty; felt as if he's known her for a long time; hand has a mind of it's own; etc.). If the female doesn't walk away immediately, Seth would undoubtedly try the move again until it succeeds or fails completely outright. Second, the female in question feels the light brush of his hand on her back but does not recoil. In this scenario Seth sensed that his tactic has gained him some ground. He isn't going to press it further, however, Seth removes his hand from her back to point at something on the screen to further send mixed signals...always keeping this Day-Crawler female guessing on his intentions...but rest assured the physical contact will intensify..even including a bold peck on the cheek or hug to thank her for playing his song request.
On the night in regards to case #73, the second scenario was being played out before me in Seth's favor with a perky and clueless college student Gazelle in her early twenties that had carelessly strayed from her small flock of roommates. Seth's ultimate goal, upon seeing the rest of her group, was to infiltrate it and hopefully to end up in bed with all three of the coeds...at once!
With that goal in mind, Seth politely escorted the one he encountered at the jukebox to her Gazelle roommate/friends, where he promptly introduced himself to them and boldly sat at their table to then order a round of libations to celebrate this meeting...and to loosen their inhibitions. Within the next following half of an hour I watched Seth as he expertly charmed all three females while exuding an air of tipsy goofiness. I have no clue as to what was exactly said since they were out of earshot, and reading lips of drunken people is a whole other skill on its own that I am continuing to master. What I do know is that at the end of that half of an hour, Seth proudly accompanied his three conquests into a taxi, and off they went...
I have never seen these three Day-Crawler females return to the watering-hole since!
