HOW TO SEDUCE THE WOMAN OF YOUR DREAMS & MAKE HER YOURS FOREVER
BY SCOTT BRYAN WILSON
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because see I have no idea who ‘stately, plump Buck Mulligan’ is, or why he claims to be the ‘best ever,’ but even if I did I would never call someone whose name I got off of a bathroom wall anyway, even though I’ll be honest with you I’ve been tempted many times, especially when I’ve seen sometimes where they’ll say For Hot BJ call this number and okay okay so once or twice before I’ve called those numbers but realized that someone was just playing a joke on poor old BJ because when they answer the phone and you ask for BJ they threaten to call the police and tell you to stop calling here all the time, which admittedly always left me a little miffed and sad, but so as I leave the bathroom the smoke and noise of the bar hits me again, and it’s karaoke night so you know it’s a big draw, and the place is crowded, even though it’s only Tuesday, and the woman that I’ve had my eye on is still sitting at the bar, and so I’m feeling confident because while I was in the bathroom I did my breathing exercises like the book said and also I checked my nostrils and moustache and breath to make sure that everything was all right, and so I’m feeling okay about things, and I wish that I could have more than one beer tonight because I know it would relax me but my father would kill me if I wrecked his car on the way home, and so I get close to the woman and I sidle in next to her at the bar, there’s actually an empty stool, and my confidence is gaining, and I know that she’s here alone but before I sit down I ask her ‘Is this seat taken?’ because I want to be polite and also I don’t want her to think I’m a stalker or something and so she shakes her head a bit and I try to read her reaction but there’s really nothing to read, and she’s just sort of staring into her glass, and then someone gets on the stage in the corner and then starts doing a rendition of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘You Got That Right’ and I’m embarrassed for the person because Lynyrd Skynyrd is one of my all-time favorite rock groups, I’ve been listening to them since I was a little boy, and the person is very drunk and he can’t even really get the words straight and so I comment to the woman I’ve had my eye on all night that I can’t believe anyone would try and do karaoke to a Lynyrd Skynyrd song and she smiles politely and keeps looking into her glass and so I finally order that first beer and the guy on stage is air-guitaring the solos, and I look at the woman but she’s not looking at me and so I look around for a while and then I concentrate on the breathing strategy where I’m supposed to try and synch my breathing with the woman I’m trying to pick up so that we’ll connect on supernatural levels and then I remember that the book says that you shouldn’t wait too long between saying things to the woman you’re trying to pick up because then it will sound like you’re just searching for things to say and you won’t look confident, so I tell her that I don’t think I’ve seen her in here before and she says that it’s the first time in a long time that she’s been in here and I say that I love coming to karaoke night and that I come every Tuesday, and I think that this is a smart move by me, because even theoretically let’s say that I’m not able to ask her out or get her number tonight, then sometime down the road she might think about me and want to get together and she knows that she can come here on Tuesdays and find me here at karaoke night, and so then I tell her that I would never embarrass myself by actually getting on the stage and actually doing the karaoke, but even if I did I could do Lynyrd Skynyrd or The Allman Brothers Band or .38 Special better than the guy on the stage now, and she smiles again, politely, but she actually looks at me for the first time, and I notice that her glass is empty, and I think about buying her another drink but I’m very wary of women in bars because since I’m not the best-looking guy in the world, and I’m comfortable with that knowledge, but since I’m not the best-looking guy, women think that they can come up and brush up next to me and flirt a little bit and I’ll buy them another drink, and then they usually just walk off and go sit back at the table with their boyfriend, and so this woman right now isn’t the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but she seems very nice and she has pretty eyes, and maybe it’s the beer but I get really bold and I tell her that I think she has pretty eyes and she smiles and looks at me again and then I tell her that I think she has a pretty smile, and then she doesn’t totally stop smiling but it fades a little but I see that she’s listening to me finally and then I go ahead and tell the bartender to get her another drink, and while she waits for the drink she leans over to me and starts talking but I have to yell out loud that I can’t hear her because someone has started singing an old Oak Ridge Boys song, an old one that was one of the first signs of their religious crossover, and I really like the song, but I think that the religious overtones are lost on the mostly-drunk crowd, and so she gets up off the stool and gets very close to me, and I get very hot and red suddenly, and she leans in to me, and her breasts are very large and they are pressing against me, and I’m frozen, and she says to me that she was just reading a poll in a women’s magazine about What Type Of Women Men Would Most Like To Sleep With, and she starts trying to give me a multiple choice set of answers, and I can’t really hear her, but I’m honestly getting quite flushed and nervous, and I hope that it doesn’t show, it seems that this woman is coming on to me, and I can’t really hear the choices, and so I strain my ears to hear what she’s saying but honestly I can’t stop looking down at her breasts which are large and pressing into me and I’m blushing but I don’t think that she can see that because it’s sort of dim in the bar, and then she moves away a little, she’s done speaking, but she allows her breasts to continue pressing against me, and I realize I’ve had a sip of beer in my mouth for about a minute, and so I swallow it down and she’s looking at me expectantly, and she says, ‘Well?’ and I can tell that she’s waiting for me to answer the question, and I don’t even know how many choices there were, so I just say ‘B,’ and she smiles and says, ‘Really? eighty-seven percent of men chose C,’ at least that’s what I think she says, and then, I’m even less sure of this but the few sounds I hear combined with what I am able to read of her lips, it looks like she says, ‘I’m impressed,’ and her breasts are still pressing against me, and I find myself at a moral crossroads, and the dilemma is that I wonder if I should move so that her breasts aren’t touching me, because I want her to know that I respect her as a woman, and that I’m not just some sleazy guy, and that I’m different from other men, but at the same time I am a guy and I do enjoy having her breasts pressed up against me, and I also have to consider the fact that she knows that they’re touching me, and that this could be entirely intentional, and that if I pull away it might look like I’m not interested in her, which I very much am interested in her, and I realize that I’m looking down at her breasts and her cleavage the whole time I’m thinking this, and so I look up and she’s looking at me, and in fact it becomes very difficult to swallow the sip of beer I’ve just taken, and I remember this story I’ve read several times in one of my issues of Penthouse Forum where this man talks about this woman performing oral sex on him and how she, and I very rarely use coarse language like this, how she ‘fucks him with her eyes as she fucks him with her mouth,’ and that’s how I feel she’s looking at me right now, and even though I’m really no expert in this area, it really does seem that that’s how she’s looking at me, and the worst thing that can possibly happen is starting to happen, I’m beginning to feel my periscope start to go up, and she leans over to me and says that she’s hot for me, at least I think that’s what she says, and the way she says it sounds really dirty like maybe hot is spelled with two t’s or something, like in the ads in the adult magazines, and that makes things even worse for me below the equator, and she asks if I want to go to her place and I do, I do, but I can’t stand up now because I’m at half-mast and I can’t adjust without drawing attention to myself, plus being at half-mast isn’t exactly the sort of signs you want to give out to a woman you’re trying to pick up in terms of not giving off the signal that you’re sexually mature and experienced and that it doesn’t matter to you whether she goes home with you or not because you’ll just go home with someone else, her loss, but also it occurs to me that I could lose my virginity tonight if I remember what I’m supposed to and don’t eff things up, and this woman wouldn’t be a bad woman to lose it to, and I imagine staying the night and then waking up and eating breakfast together and then making a date for that night and then before you know it we’re married and in love and she’s grabbing my hand and leading me out of the bar and her hand is so soft, and even though I’m poking out a bit no one seems to notice, and someone on the stage is doing my favorite Ronnie Milsap song, but they’re doing it poorly, and then we’re out in the parking lot, and I walk past my father’s Chrysler, and she’s leading my by the hand to her car, this hatchback that’s filthy on the outside and beat-up and also very dirty on the inside, and there’s a child-seat in back, but there are just a bunch of empty liquor bottles and a filthy toy in it, the sight of which sends out a signal to me that maybe this woman has maybe some baggage and maybe perhaps I don’t want to get involved with this woman, but I ignore it due to many things but one of them being I remember that I have the appropriate number of chromosomes that deems that if a beautiful woman is interested in me then I should pursue the opportunity, and so I get in the car with her, even though it occurs to me that I should offer to drive her since I believe she’s had more drinks than I have, and anyway I hear the doors lock and it occurs to me that this woman could be one of those women that rapes men, lures a man in and then drugs him and then ties him up with fishing line and then rapes him, though I don’t think that that will happen tonight, if for no other reason than I’m interested in willingly having relations with her, even though this is technically only our first date, and I don’t know how comfortable I am having relations with a woman on our first date, plus I don’t even know her name, and I’m about to ask her except we pull into the driveway of a dumpy apartment complex not three blocks from the bar, and I ask her why she drives if she lives so close, and she replies that a woman has to be careful these days, and that sort of sets my mind at ease as far as perhaps not getting raped, but it still occurs to me that she could have her big black boyfriend waiting inside behind the door, probably a total setup, ready to crack me in the head with a sock full of nickels and then rob me and maybe kill me and throw me in the dumpster, I’ve heard about that happening to people in this neighborhood but even though I’m sort of on edge about that it doesn’t happen, and we go into her apartment, which smells funny, and she turns on a light, and takes my hand which helps me to relax because her hand is so soft but then I see that the apartment itself looks like a hurricane hit it, there are dishes piled up in the sink so high that it looks like a sculpture, and it’s filthy and dirty and trash is overflowing out of several trash cans, and it looks like dirty diapers that are possibly months old are in those overflowing piles, it smells horrible in here the further in I get, which makes me nervous, and there are signs of babies everywhere, toys and socks and of course the filthy diapers but there aren’t any babies, and there is a playpen but it’s just got cigarette boxes and more liquor bottles in it, and trash and dirty baby clothes, looks like it hasn’t had a baby in it in a while, and I’m getting really antsy, and she turns to me and asks me if I want a drink, fucking me with her eyes again and then she says, ‘Let’s skip drinks, I’m hott for you now,’ and so I choke out that that idea is okay by me and so we go into her bedroom which is filthy and dirty, and I’m thankful that my mother doesn’t let our house get this dirty, that she cleans my room up and makes my bed while I’m at work every day and that makes me happy, but honestly I’m not really thinking about how dirty the place is, I’m actually getting nervous about what we’re about to do, because I’ve never had relations with a woman before and of course I am very curious and very much look forward to doing so, but so we go into the bedroom and she turns on this dim like nitelite because she says that she wants to look at me while we’re doing it, and I don’t say anything because of course I want to look at her too, and then she starts kissing me, and she tastes like cigarette smoke smells, but that’s deeper down, because on the surface she tastes like alcohol, way stronger than I possibly taste since I didn’t even finish one beer, and it’s the first time I’ve ever kissed a woman, and definitely the first time I’ve ever used my tongue, and so I waggle it around like I’ve seen them do in the soap operas and movies and some of the pornographic films that I’ve seen over the years, and she grabs my rear-end and so I grab hers and one thing leads to another and we’re naked and on her bed and I’m touching her breasts and even though the light is dim I can see scars covering massive parts of her body, along her shoulders and chest and stomach and thighs and even her feet and she sees me looking at them, and I can tell that she’s going to ask me to make love to her, though I turn out to be wrong about this assertion because she instead she leans over to her nightstand and lights a cigarette, though using my keen perception I can tell that they’re not the brand that she’s been smoking all night, because her brand was long and slim and this brand she pulls out are masculine cigarettes, and she hands the lighted cigarette to me and tells me to burn her rear-end, and she turns and sticks her rear-end in the air, and she’s waving it at me, and I can see that she’s covered with little round scars there as well, and I don’t want to burn her because it seems strange to me, they’ve never done this in the movies or the soaps, and plus this isn’t very sexy for me, and my periscope is starting to wilt and sometimes at my age it becomes difficult to keep the flag flying for long periods of time, or to even raise it and lower it more than once, and so I tell her that I don’t want to burn her, and she turns her head to look at me and says that if I don’t burn her then she’ll burn me and she doesn’t fuck me with her eyes when she says this, and I’m starting to get a little scared but there’s no way that I’m going to cry, and so I just jam the cigarette into the meatiest part of her rear-end and she screams into a pillow and it’s horrible and then she tells me to do it again and so I do without even thinking about it, just jam it in, and then she turns around and starts kissing me very hard and pinching my nipples as she kisses me, and she pinches them in a way that hurts very much that I don’t like at all, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve made a horrible mistake, and thinking that possibly I should have gone and bought this deaf woman who was in the bar a drink instead, and she was very beautiful even though she was deaf, and I doubt that the deaf girl would have wanted me to burn her, and her pinching me hurts quite bad and she instructs me to do the same thing to her, but I don’t want to because in the anatomy book it said that women’s breasts are very sensitive and I don’t want to hurt her, I just want to make love to her and take her out on dates to get a pizza and then go see a movie, and then I ask her where the kids are and she says to me, and I’m very shocked by her language, she says to me, ‘Don’t worry about the goddamn kids,’ and I really think that I’m going to start crying because it feels like she’s tearing my nipples off, but I don’t want her to think I’m a wimp or something by taking her hand away, and then she says, ‘Just . . . don’t worry, we’re alone,’ and so I say okay and continue to kiss her, and I really feel that my tongue-kissing technique is improving rapidly, as I am now understanding and establishing rhythm and exertion and feel very confident in my kissing, and she seems to enjoy it, because after I mention the kids she forces her tongue very very far back in my mouth, and I close my eyes because that’s how they do it in the movies, but I keep peeking because I want to see if I can gauge her reactions to my kissing technique, and she finally stops tearing at my nipples, and I think that perhaps maybe the strangeness is behind us, finally, and I know that she’s going to ask me to make love to her very soon now, and I have a condom in my wallet, the expiration date is close but I think I have a month or two left, and she holds me very tight and begins to claw my back as we kiss, and honestly it doesn’t hurt that much at first, but then she begins to claw me more furiously and it does begin to hurt quite bad after a while, and just as I am about to get up she reaches over and lights another cigarette and tells me to burn her again but this time to burn her on the underside of her breasts, and I have to think fast because I don’t want to hurt this woman who I am beginning to suspect has some sort of emotional issues and also I don’t want to leave when I am so close to making love to her, because I think it would do her a lot of good, and me too, and so I tell her instead that I have to go to the bathroom, though judging by the rest of her house I am quite apprehensive about stepping foot in the bathroom, especially with no shoes on, but I think that this excuse might buy me some time to figure out what to do in this situation and then maybe I could come back and say that obviously this isn’t a good time for her and that I have to be up early in the morning and that I could just get her number and I could come back another time and make love to her, or I could call her and make a date and we could go out and eat seafood and I could borrow my father’s car and take her to a movie, and I’m thinking that maybe this line of reasoning would make her so happy that I wouldn’t have to burn her with cigarettes, and anyway I’m about to get off the bed to go to the bathroom, to think first and foremost but also that beer has gone through me and I realize that I do have to pee quite bad, and I know I should have gone before we left the bar but I was afraid that either when I came out she would be gone or with another guy, and for some reason images of graffiti on the walls of the bar bathroom come into my head, someone has scrawled STOP THE BLACKS and there are a ton of phone numbers and TERRY THE FAG IS A DEAD MAN and also on the stall wall it says ‘Some come to sit & think, others come to shit & stink, which one are you?’, and all this hits me right as I’m about to climb off the bed but she grabs my leg and I look over at her, and she tells me in a monotone and sort of creepy voice that she would much prefer if I would just stand on the bed and urinate on her, and this horrifies me to no end, but I’m not going to cry, and now she’s realizing my horror so she’s fucking me with her eyes again as she lays back and her breasts flatten out and make shapes and she smiles at me and I start to cry because I don’t want to urinate on this nice woman, and I’m really trying to hold back but the tears come rather rapidly and I haven’t cried like this in a long time, and I’m hoping that in the dim light the tears will just look like sweat, and then the tears hit the skin of her stomach, because now I’m standing over her, I don’t remember getting like this, in this position, and the tears hit her stomach and roll off in different directions, eventually they wet the sheets of the dirty bed, and she seems to smile the more I cry, which unfortunately is quite a bit right now, and I really want her to smile, I want her to be happy, but I don’t want to urinate on this woman, but here I am, fighting back any more tears, trying to remember my breathing exercises for confidence, and I start wondering what eighty-seven percent of men polled would do in this here very same situation, and from my bird’s-eye vantage point I can see that her sheets are all discolored and I’m actually admittedly pretty revolted at this point but still I’m forging ahead and I’m powerless to do anything and so [Forever after at http://eyeshot.net/seductiontips.html]
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LET IT BE WIDELY KNOWN THAT
The Eyeshot editor has a
strange, seriousish story on the latest issue of GutCult.com,
the bi-annual online web-based literary magazine co-edited by Lewis
Robinson,
among others - the
latest issue contains american
prose and british
poesy -
other issues include Eyeshot contributors Kevin
Sampsell & Stephany
Aulenback,
& a really good interview
with George Saunders