A French In Glasgow. Party 3/3

I sit next to her, her perfume is amazing, i recognize it in a second, it’s Tom Ford tobacco vanilla, but she’s been sweating so the smell is a bit bitter. She could have shaved her armpits better than that but I’m used to it. In France every girl have a forest as an armpit, a bit like the Amazonia, very humid and full of unknown plants. I used to be proper disgusted by even half of a millimeter of hair in the armpit. Now I don’t really care, I guess I’m changing. Thank fuck.

Okay here is one of the rule when you talk to a girl. Sexualize the conversation! The number of guys I’ve seen who go talk to a girl that they like but only talk about… I don’t know, they just don’t know how to talk! Girls first come by what they hear, they’ll know how you fuck according to how you talk. So articulate, never underestimate the power of words, it’s the most beautiful thing on earth, so cherish it, it opens so many doors, especially the one that you want to open.

A good way to charm people as well, very good to do in a seduction mode, is to use lots of metaphor, because it makes the imagination of the person work, if you say. “I get it” it won’t have the same effect as “It’s as clear as a deep blue sky of winter” Because they will see that sky. Told you! Never underestimate words! I have lots of other secret that I may or may not give to ya… Depends of my mood.

As I do all this, I started to talk to the girl, as usual I pretend to be fairly naïve. My head is slightly tilted to the left, in order to not look to rigid, if it’s tilted on the right the effect won’t be same, it’s not the desired effect right now. My legs are crossed, a guy is comfortable when the right leg is on top of the left, for the girls it’s the contrary, that’s why I approach them as if they are some unknown object. Because they are.

 But we are to them as well, and this is a message to girls; we( guys) are more complex that you might think, we don’t think with our cock, but if you want to understand us. Picture an elastic that represent the interest of the guy. You pull it at both extremity and then let one of the extremity go. But then you start again. That’s how we work. That explains our “He didn’t text me for a week now!” So stop panicking, texting us and have meeting with your girl friends where you talk shit for hours, instead play the game, be a femme fatale, keep your frustration for something more productive, let us come back to you, we’ll be very likely to be a sweetheart. But hey if you don’t swallow, that might be another reason. And sleeping with another girl is not cheating, it’s comparing. It’s not just about you.

Let’s get back to the story, I don’t hesitate to ask :” What is this?” because showing that you accept that you don’t know something is endearing. I’m also lucky to be a very curious person and pretty much everything interest me and fascinate me, I guess on my own I’d be jumping in the grass naked making up songs about love while drawing an apple, but people made me become who I am, very French (Woo didn’t mention the fact that I’m French for a long time, what’s wrong with me?!) and borderline sociopaths when it comes to try to interact and understand people. I thank you.

The girl is being very nice, I’m enjoying myself, she’s actually lovely, I’d smash her back doors in. But I suddenly notice that she’s got a ring on her right index and on the ring finger, right index being the image of the father, ring finger symbol of love, and she keeps playing with them. I ask her innocently if she chooses to put those rings on those fingers, she says yes, they’re always on those fingers.

Fuck, the girl is in love with her father, I can picture her as a child on her daddy’s lap being the happiest girl in the world. Guys will never be good enough for her, she’ll always compare them to daddy, she’s the worst of a kind. She thinks that daddy is the prince, she had too many slutty Barbie as child, result she’s a lost idealistic bitch who in her fall is taking guys with her because she can’t face the reality. But something doesn’t seem right to me.

I ask her to describe her dad to me, out of nowhere, her reaction shows that I touched a nerve, it’s as if I just emotionally raped her, I just touched the untouchable, plus she’s drunk so she’s even more emotive than usual. We start talking about it, after a while, she finally tells me that she found out that her dad cheated on her mum, it all seems contradictory right now, funnily enough she keeps moving her ring of her finger. Poor girl, the man of her life, her first male model suddenly becomes a cunt. Imagine the confusion in her head.

She tells me it’s the first time that she tells someone because she feels “ashamed” but she’ll be fine now, something of your past becomes a problem only when you don’t talk about it, keep it for yourself and bury it in the dark region of your heart. I suddenly get very bored of her, I’m not sexually nor mentally stimulated by her anymore, complete lost of interest. So I leave, because I need to,  before the interest leaves me.

THE END.