Story for School (introduction) - Comments wanted

Zaffy

This is just the introduction for a short story, would love to hear any comments on it.

* Three in the morning, and Walker and I exit Tripod, him with a girl on his arm, and me holding a notepad with eight different numbers on it, pretty good night tonight, especially since not many other pick up artists can get above three from a single club.

It’s not like I’ve always been a pick up artist, heck, I didn’t have my first kiss until I was seventeen, and even then it was a peck on the cheek. My journey from becoming a hormone-filled teen into the suave, silver tongued player I am today didn’t take place overnight, or over a dozen nights. It’s taken years of experimentation, advice, and out right bizarre ideas to achieve.

I was a rather unspectacular child, to be honest, I still am, but I’ve developed a bit since the four years I’ve been practising ‘pick up artistry’. Rather than trying to tame my bushy chestnut hair into some sort of appropriate shape, I simply shaved it all off, saving myself hours in brushing and controlling my mane. I opted for laser eye surgery rather than contacts to fix my horn rimmed glasses problem, and I gave up wearing Topman’s finest outfits, and moved onto Ben Sherman, Hugo Boss and Lacoste’s more tasteful fashion.

I also developed a new self confidence, an outlook which said ‘Hey you, yes you, I don’t care what you think.’ Though the way I achieved this was rather unconventional. I simply put myself through dozens of embarrassing situations including not showering for a month and doing my weekly shop in a bikini. The worst was admitting to my parents that I am gay, which I'm not; it was a rather mortifying experience and took my parents close to half a year to believe that I was lying. After that, I didn’t care what others thought, as I knew it couldn’t be worse than before.

Now for a quick explanation, a pick up artist is one who strives to be skilled in meeting, attracting and seducing women. Yes, not the most ethical hobby, but I personally find it a lot more interesting, and practical, than Chess or photography. There’s an online community of hundreds, if not thousands of men simply trying to echo what I have achieved, from communities all over the world, London, Paris, Los Angeles, I even think there’s a growing community over in Thailand with all those Full Moon parties.

If you asked me to pinpoint the one point where I turned from just any old guy on the pull, into a pick up artist, it would have to be during my third year of pick up artistry. A month after I turned twenty one, Neville, a work colleague, invited a group of us out to Barcode in honour of his twentieth birthday, and the fact his parents gave him two hundred euros to get off the computer for a night. So come the Friday night, my Versace aftershave found it’s way onto my neck, my Red Herring two piece found it’s way onto my body, and I found myself outside Barcode on a crisp night, where my breath condensed and rose like the smoke of kindling ready to become a roaring fire, with four blokes who I knew by the end of the night, would be sitting together dousing their sorrows with their eighth Guinness.

We entered the club, instantaneously, I was knocked back, the cool glow of the moon was replaced with flashing strobe lights, the gentle sound of a car hum by and the hushed whispers of patrons lining up to enter was kicked away by the raging music and the screams of clubbers, trying to converse, and a chilled prickle on my tongue was covered by a buffet of sweat, alcohol and deodorant carried in the air.

Just the start, thoughts?

EileenG

Doesn't strike me as an appealing character. I don't particularly want to know more about him, and I don't think even he likes himself much. Do many guys really think of themselves as "suave, silver tongued players"? The bit about the bikini just doesn't ring true, and the idea that he has lied to his parents about being gay just to give himself confidence is nasty.

LegacyUser

Ok, finding someone who really, truly likes themself is an extremely rare thing, and literature would be **** boring if everyone was content with themselves. There'd be very few interesting stories without some personal, internal struggle. And no, he's not a very appealing character, but what pick up artist is?! I love the story so far.

Zaffy

EileenG wrote: »

Do many guys really think of themselves as "suave, silver tongued players"? The bit about the bikini just doesn't ring true, and the idea that he has lied to his parents about being gay just to give himself confidence is nasty.

Suave, silver tounged player - Have you ever heard of pick up artists before? They're men to who strive to become better and better at meeting, attracting & seducing women. In the first paragraph it mentions him getting 16 numbers in one night, which obviously requires him to be good with women. I'm sure any normal guy would be happy with 1 or 2.

The confidence part is to give a bit of comic relief, while showing how far these people strive to get better, true, the bikini one is silly, but it's showing a definite extreme degree to his character.

pickarooney

EileenG wrote: »

Doesn't strike me as an appealing character. I don't particularly want to know more about him, and I don't think even he likes himself much. Do many guys really think of themselves as "suave, silver tongued players"? The bit about the bikini just doesn't ring true, and the idea that he has lied to his parents about being gay just to give himself confidence is nasty.

You would have turned down Brett Easton Ellis?

True to life or not, the confidence tricks raised a smile here and I can't much fault the rest of the passage. It's a bit short for a more in-depth critique.

partyatmygaff

To be honest the character sounds a bit over the top and irritating. I'm not saying that's a bad thing as this is a story and it would be a bit boring if characters were all just average people. I don't know about anyone else but when I pick up any story and the first character I'm introduced to is annoying or a but unbelievable I lose interest.

Besides that, I can't find any faults in it.

Zaffy

Added on a bit more, about half way through now Thanks for the comments guys.

Next paragraph:
Neville, our friends and I sit down at a booth. As Neville orders a cosmopolitan, each of our colleagues ordered a series of more confusing and complicated martinis, stirred, not shaken. Personally I just ordered a Guinness and preserved my dignity as a straight male. As the conversation drifted to computer programming and how their Java programs were having syntax errors, my mind and eyes drifted. I gazed around the club, regarding each blonde bimbo in her short skirt, alpha male with his creotine arms, and nerd standing awkwardly at the edge of the dance floor with the same look of content, until my eyes flashed over, and then returned to, girl surrounded by a group of three friends

(I'm mostly using this as an online folder ;p)