And for that, I must turn to a man known as, "The Jackal."
Now, I'm hard-pressed to call him a "pick-up artist", for even when that term was en vogue it just didn't suit him. It doesn't accurately reflect the unyielding resolve that he puts into getting laid. Nor does it encapsulate the way he'll spring into action anywhere, and at any time, should an opportunity present itself. Finally, it can't begin to capture the improbable, man-alone-in-the-wilderness way that he developed his technique over the years without the aid of wingmen, lairs, bootcamps, seminars, books, or even blogs and online forums.
I'd call him a pick-up survivalist.
You see, the Jackal doesn't drink, smoke, do drugs, or gamble. He works almost non-stop, seemingly every day of the week. For him, getting laid is not simply a pastime or even a regular vice. No, it is a need, not far below food, water, and shelter. As I once remarked to a shared acquaintaince, "I sometimes believe that it's pussy that keeps him alive...and damn if he doesn't go after it like a man who wants to live forever!"
But enough about The Jackal, it's now time to take a lesson from his ways. So, allow me if you will, to present what hopefully will be the first in an ongoing series of posts based on the collected wisdom of The Jackal.
It was a Thursday or Friday evening and the Jackal had found himself at the home of a girl he'd picked up in his usual blitzkrieg manner (i.e. a brazen daylight holler in some mundane place like, say, the teller's line at the bank.) Engaged in a full-on make-out session on her sofa, he moved to escalate the situation but found that he was facing mild (but not insurmountable) resistance. As he pulled back to take a breath and plot his countermove, she asked, "Are you thirsty? Would you like a drink?"
"Sure," he replied, "I'll take a soda if you've got one."
As she got up to leave the room, he quickly scanned his surroundings and considered what to do next. By the time she called from the kitchen, "I've got Pepsi, is that alright?" He'd already sprang into action.
When she walked back around the corner, their drinks in hand, she was startled to find the sofa empty.
Lesson: When In Doubt, Take It Out
"Over here," he beckoned from the opposite side of the room. As her eyes turned to follow his voice, they were met with the sight of The Jackal, reclined on the loveseat with his dick out. Undaunted by the look of shock on her face, he stayed the course and didn't miss a beat. "I thought this seat was more comfortable; come sit next to me," he said, patting the spot beside him.
She complied, walking over to where he was and setting the drinks on the coffee table before taking a seat by his side. He smiled and calmly took a sip of his drink, then placed his hand on hers, guiding it to his crotch. Making sure that their surprise guest received a proper introduction.
The resistance promptly evaporated.
When asked to explain why he thought this maneuver (since dubbed, "The Gambler") was successful, The Jackal reckons it's about keeping up appearances. "Women may want sex as much as we do -- sometimes even more -- but a lot of them don't want you to think that they're sluts. So, you've got to take the lead and guide them to where they want to go."
He's quick to caution, however, "That move doesn't work all the time! Probably only 25-30 percent of the time, if I had to guess." Even if you're not playing a speed game like The Jackal, it's not a bad weapon to have in your arsenal. I've heard more than my fair share of stories of guys playing it safe (read: tentative) and then griping when, after a few dates, they find themselves well short of the goal and with the girl precariously close to fading them out.
It's a bold move for sure, but then, how does that old saying go again? Ahhh, yes, "Fortune favors the bold."