I watched the girl pull the sides of her jacket tight to hide her chest as I walked past her into the bar. 'What's the point of wearing a too tight t-shirt if you don't want anyone to see you in?' I wondered. Then I realized that she did indeed want to be seen in it, just by a select group of guys. A group, which apparently I was not a member of. That was not a cheerful thought.
I made my way over to the bar. I caught the bartender's eye, waved a fiver at him, and signaled for a whiskey, neat. I prefer Crown Royal for the first round, after that well is fine. By your third round, they're serving you well regardless of what you order. Least that's what they taught us when I attended Bartending School.
The barkeep served up the whiskey, asked for 2 dollars over the fiver I'd put down. I gave him 4 as it's important to tip well. I knocked back the whiskey and surveyed the bar looking for prospects. There was a pretty girl in a tight white bustier, too intimidating by far. There was a softer looking girl in eyeglasses that gave her an attractive librarian look. She looked lost, a little too intelligent for a place like this and it wouldn't have surprised me at all if she'd taken out a book and started reading.
Now whatever I maintain to my friends, I'm aware that I am not walking death to maidenly virtue. But I figured for a girl who's lost and rather bored she might appreciate the distraction of turning me down so I headed over to her. As I got closer, I noticed two things. First she was wearing a skirt, which revealed far nicer legs than I expected. Second, that although she wasn't reading at the moment, she did have a book on the small table where she sat.
This wasn't a bar that believed in blasting the customers ear drums so I didn't have to shout "Mind if I sit down?" She looked at me her seat, which was high (like most seats in bars) so we were just about eye level, and I saw her sea green eyes through the lenses of her glasses. Black plastic frames but not thick like Buddy Hollys, black hair pulled tight in a bun, and unexpectedly a blinding white smile between pouty red lips.
"Please do." She said and gestured invitingly to the seat across from her. As I mentioned, the table was small so our hands were practically touching. I gestured to the book, "What are you reading?"
"Oh, just a bit of intellectual curiosity. It's called 'The Role of Hypnosis in Casual Dating' a bit of graduate student sophistry that someone was dumb enough to publish." she said laughing lightly.
I liked the sound of her voice; it was soft waves breaking against the shore. Her laughter was a cascade of tintinnabulation accompanied by the prettiest wind chimes. "Maybe the author does know something, if it's as bad as you say and he convinced someone to publish it anyway."
She laughed again and said "If you think it takes hypnosis for an editor to publish trash you're horribly naïve... about the publishing business anyway." Her pause had been intentional and left a suggestive gap my mind rushed to fill. She was much sexier than I had supposed in my initial assessment. But that, as one of my supervisors used to say, would fall into the good thing category.
She continued "No, it's actually somewhat interesting. It's about the combination of short conversation, body language and loaded innuendo used in dating, especially the meeting and initial courtship phases, are similar to Neurological Linguistic Programming or NLP for short." The burst of psychological techno babble, appearing as it did out of left field, threw me for a loop. But one of the things I liked about her initially was she appeared too intelligent for her surroundings. I tried to wrap my mind around what she had just said.
"So basically, we use complicated psychological techniques unconsciously to perform the complicated task of meeting members of the opposite sex" I said. "That's one way of looking at it" she replied.
"Another way of looking at it is that with much effort psychologists have figured out a way to do something we already knew how to do. Which is why I have so much disdain for psychology. Because I do look at it this way. However they do a good job of explaining how to adapt these techniques for uses beyond picking up guys." The last she said grinning and hitting me with those sea green eyes again. I felt my breath catch in my throat as she brushed a few stray bangs of her black hair away from her face.
"So anyway, the author says that when I look right at you and smile like this I'm engaging your full attention. Not just of your conscious mind, but of your subconscious mind. Your basic male programming is now engaged. I've just been recognized by your subconscious as a breeding prospect and everything else has become secondary. But that just means your paying full attention to my words and non verbal behaviour. Which in this case consists of staring directly into your eyes. And your full attention is fixated on me, and my eyes. Shutting out everything else, ignoring all distractions except for my words and my voice, looking only into my beautiful eyes, my deep green eyes. Looking deeper into my eyes, listening to my gentle, soft voice. Relaxing, listening only to my voice. Paying attention only to me. Only to me. My voice, lulling you into relaxation. Relaxing you, drawing you deeper into my eyes. My beautiful eyes."
Her eyes were beautiful. She removed her glasses so I can see them better. They were breathtaking. I had no idea what her chest looked like because the whole time we talked my eyes had never left hers. They were green and inviting and like deep deep wells. Deeper than any eyes I'd ever seen. Her voice washed over me. She had been talking about how when people meet they engage peoples attention. They're complete attention. Well she certainly had mine. What was she saying now? How I had to listen carefully...? I wasn't sure anymore. But it was important that I listen to her. But I felt so relaxed... SO hard to concentrate...
.... There is more of this story ...