Miss Paris

“So what do you think?” I asked

She looked at me with the blank look she always gives me when she’s bored

“It’s just like back home isn’t it?” I say enthusiastically

“A lot has changed since you’ve been back home,” she said fixing her scarf. I noticed her nails; they were immaculate. She took another sip from her straw. Her lips were luscious. I could tell why the “Manopshere” goes crazy over European women; she exuded sensuality and alluring femininity at the highest level.

“Hurry up we gotta get going,” I said getting impatient; I didn’t want to be late for the main event.

I glanced over my left and noticed the people who were dancing to some rock song; this was definitely not my scene.

She finished her drink and we started to walk outside. The cruel Minnesota winter hit us and was unforgiving.

“Oh my gosh it’s cold, maybe I should get my jacket huh?” she started saying in a whiny voice.

“You’re fine. The bar is right down the street.” I say pointing at the sign, which was less then a few hundred feet ahead of us.

“Are you sure I’m so cold” the pitch of her whiny voice rose a level

I rolled my eyes, while in style and looks she is European(elegant and classy) in attitude she definitely had the whole American princess entitlement syndrome down.

We walked in the bar and went downstairs.

“You have my cover right?” I asked

“Aah no, I paid for the first round of drinks remember? I only got $15”

I got annoyed. I told her that I didn’t have cash and asked the bouncer for the nearest ATM. He told me it was upstairs. I get some cash out and paid the Ten-dollar cover for both of us(five each). We walked in the bar, but it wasn’t as busy as the last time I was there. With the Christmas holidays this was to be expected. I noticed two chicks standing there and two black dudes (they weren‘t together). I started chatting with them. It was nothing flirty. I was just making conversation. I noticed “she” was standing there watching me, bored. I talked to one of the black guys

“Hey man, this is my little sister she is from Paris” I lied. She’s not my sister, but he didn’t know that.

“Oh, word”

“Yeah man, say what’s up to her” he wasn’t a dummy and understood. I didn’t have to tell him twice. A beautiful woman with the curves to kill, that’s a negro’s kryptonite. I started chatting with the other two girls. Come to find out one is married visiting the area for the holidays (Jessica) and the other one is her single friend (Nicole). The other black dude is on Nicole macking hard. I know he wasn’t gonna get anywhere with Nicole but I respected his hustle.

“Listen I need a wing chick tonight” I say to Jessica

“I need your eyes to see which chick you think is D4tc (down 4 the cause)” while most guys always try to make other guys “Insta-wings” I found it’s more fun to make a chick a insta-wing plus it shows your higher value in other women’s eyes, and woman love playing match maker and crap like that.

“What about those girls over there?” she says pointing at a group of four women. I hesitate, notbecause I’m afraid to approach, I know logistically speaking it would be hard. My analytical mind took over.

“4 girls, seated, 3 on one side, one to the left, just me,  Yeah I’m gonna get blown the fuck out”

“Aww your not scared are you?” she chides pfft scared? If this chick only knew the things I’ve been through. After approaching nearly 3,000 women in these types of settings, being scared is an afterthought. No, I would call this experienced, ok who am I bullshitting I’m being a pussy right now. One guy with no wings in that type of situation isn‘t going to suffice. I wasn’t even warmed up yet, but I welcomed the challenge. Before I could go in, two women were on my path and I stopped and talked to them. It was a black and white woman. I was just asking them fluff. “What you drinking blah blah”. Jessica stood behind me and the light skinned black woman kept looking over. I walked away mere seconds later.

“Why did you just leave? The black chick was so into you” said Jessica

“You think so?” I couldn’t really tell.

“Yeah. She kept looking at me to see if we were together. I could also tell by the way she was looking at you.”

I thought Jessica was reaching, after nearly 3,000 approaches you pick on these things, but then again, I’m with a woman they pick up on these things easier then I ever could.

“Dude what are you drinking?” asked the black guy whom I put on Miss Paris

“Get me a screw driver,” I say. He grabs me a screw driver and for Miss Paris a cosmopolitan (high maintenance much?)

The guy was smooth; buying me a drink earned him some points. I prided myself on being able to spot a dude who wasn’t a cheapskate cause I sure as hell wouldn’t have done it. I grab the drink and continue to talk to Nicole and Jessica and then go over to Miss Paris and her new friend

“You alright?” I ask

She shook her head like “hell yes I’m alright.” I’m not a hater. I started making my rounds. There are nights you go out and stuff just flows automatically. You talk to one girl, gain momentum, and then on to the next. It’s a snowball effect and next thing you know you’re in “The Zone”. However the same could be said if you’re not having a good night. You keep approaching and nothing is going your way. Then you’re in the “negative zone.” It was one of those nights. I was getting blown out left and right. I’d try to dance with a chick and she’d dance for a few seconds then dance away. I’d try talking to chicks and they would turn their body. Crap like that. Of course Miss Paris saw all of it. I glanced over to her and she was laughing and dancing with her new “friend” having fun. I started to feel jealous. It couldn’t be, but I was jealous that she was having fun and I wasn’t.

“Reframe my mind your not jealous, your the coolest dude in this fucking place, reframe, reframe…” that’s all my mind kept saying

However my luck didn’t change. I found a blonde, (my favorite hair color) but it was a no go. I then find another blonde: and nadda. I stand by the wall feeling like a chode. Last week I was King at this place and now I’m a fucking peasant, irony.

“Hey wanna dance?” asked Miss Paris; I could see in her eyes that she felt bad for me getting blown out. Usually I wouldn’t be embarrassed this is part of the territory however I didn’t want her to see this. I wanted her to see me winning owning the club having women swoon for me. I dance with her for a bit but it feels forced. I’m so out of rhythm as well. And we dance for a song

“Let me know when we are leaving ok?”

“Sure” I say. I see her go back to her new “friend” and waves of jealousy hit me again. My feelings betrayed me. I dance here and there and soon decide it’s time to head home.Miss Paris says bye to her new friend and the Minnesota cold greets us again with her cruel winds.

“So is this how you get it in? Going from women to women?” she asked

“Something like that” I say then quickly change the subject to her new friend. I’d rather not talk about my failed night

“So what’s his name?” I asked pretending to be interested

“Oh my gosh I don’t know” she said smiling

“You talked and danced with the man for an hour and you don’t know his name?” I asked surprised

“Well he is gonna call me and I will know then” she said “Plus I don’t usually give out my number and he was the only guy I talked too all night”

Ugh huh whatever, we get to her car and she tells me to wait.

“Don’t open it till Christmas,” she says giving me a “Victoria Secret” bag

What the f… I gave my gift to her earlier.

“Thank you Solomon for taking me out tonight this was by far the best place you have taken me,” she said giving me those half ass hugs she always gives

“No problem”. There are times in life when the truth hits you slowly when you have been lying to yourself for a long time. Then there are times when the truth hits you like a ten-ton truck. I wasn’t jealous of Miss Paris and her new friend. I was jealous because she had her moment and I didn’t have mine. I wanted her to see me with other women have fun and get jealous and fight for me. I pulled my car away feeling like an idiot. Then the words that still frighten me to this day hit me harder, and I couldn’t deny the truth. Miss Paris exposed me tonight. They ring in my head and I uttered the words, which forever would change my life.

“ Hi My name is Solomon Jones, I’m a chump”

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