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Busy day today, big project.
I can’t stay home. Won’t get much work done. I’ll get sucked in by the internet. Tempted by the green I’ve got stashed. Or, distracted by the most annoying cat in the world.
So, I shower. Eat breakfast. Pack up the laptop.
Fuck it. I smoke a bowl, anyway.
It’s below freezing. Bone-chilling. Rare for the South. I’m bundled up. Wool beanie, cashmere scarf, long coat, leather gloves, and aviators.
Quick ride to the Starbucks up the road. I hate Starbucks coffee, but it’s close and convenient.
Shop is crowded – I order a latte. I’m baked out of my mind. Feels like everyone is staring at me. Objectively, I know they’re not.
There’s one long table open, way in back. Three empty chairs. The fourth is occupied by a lovely young woman.
Long, light-brown hair. Creamy white skin. Auburn Bambi eyes. Slender build. Snow-white french manicure.
She’s busy, studiously slouched over her shiny silver MacBook Air.
Dressed a little too casually in an over-sized college sweatshirt and tight jeans. But, she’s young and hot. She pulls it off.
I make my way to her table.
“Do you mind if I sit here.” It’s not really a question.
“No problem, of course.” she says.
I sit, get situated.
I feign indifference. Ignore her at first. It’s a front. She’s making my heart pound. Approach anxiety magnified by the THC coursing through my system.
I’ve got work to do. I’m genuinely busy. I relax.
But, she’s really distracting me. I can smell her.
Force myself not to look. I feel her stealing glances at me. But she stays quiet.
I can’t move too fast, scare her off.
So, I keep writing.
It’s been ten minutes since I sat down. She takes a quick call; finishes up. Starts packing her things.
It’s time. I go indirect, Roosh V style.
“Excuse me, is that a good laptop?”
Her face lights up. She sits back down. She’s excited to talk. Hands me her laptop.
“I love it! Feel how light it is!” she brags.
We chat about computers for a while.
She’s showing strong interest. Playing with her thick hair, making heavy eye contact, asking me personal questions.
Conversation begins to die out, she’s gotta go. I run GALNUC on her. Almost perfect, except I forgot the U.
Oh, well. I still get her number. Didn’t even pull my phone out. Just typed her digits into my open laptop. No fumbling, nice and smooth.
We wrap up our talk, shake hands. I hold it a few seconds longer than I need to. Watch her tight ass as she walks away.
Will I bang her? I don’t know. This just happened – I’m still sitting at the same table as I’m writing this. .
Maybe it’ll turn into a lay report.
Or, maybe not.
Either way, it was fun as hell.
OK. Now, back to work.
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