May 25, 2012
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While sitting in a bar last night it struck me how much the presence of smartphones, their ubiqiquity, has impacted the dating scene in subtle ways. See, I was knocking back rum after rum when I spotted this gentleman putting in serious work; he went full David Copperfield while trying to get this one young lady’s number. Or get into her panties. He did everything but saw a woman in half.
But she wasn’t having it. One look at her body language told the world that he had no chance. For all intents and purposes it looked like this dude was trying in vain to get what he wanted. But then he pulled out his iPhone. It might as well have been a rabbit from a hat. Now, I don’t know if he showed her a picture of his cock, or if he showed her his iKamaSutra app, or if he downloaded a bank statement. But I do know that after he flashed his iPhone he was entering digits, smiling and looking a lot like a winner. No, not a loser.
And then it hit me. Or maybe I should say it reminded me. Because as I watched this dude gleefully entering this lady’s number into his phone I remembered how different things were pre-smartphone and pre-cellphone. Now, maybe I’m showing my age here but when I was in my teens and even into my twenties cellphones were nowhere to be found. It wasn’t possible to just roll up on the attractive lady at the bar, strike up a conversation, ask for her number and then whip out your phone to record the digits for posterity.
Naw. I mean, you could roll up on her and strike up the conversation and maybe even ask for the digits. But pre-cellphone you had to have a pen. You either had to get a pen from the bar or you had to have one of your own. Problem was that getting a pen from a bartender, especially if the party was jumping, was a 50/50 proposition. So your best bet was to have a pen of your own. But if you had a pen you looked hungry. Grizzly. Like a wet-mouth. Having a pen at the ready suggested you showed up to the party/club/dance with the intention of picking up. And even though we all know that’s the reason why people attended these functions to begin with no one wanted to admit it, no one wanted to look so craven, to appear sooooooooooooo eager to slide up on a lady that they traveled with a pen ready. It made you seem desperate. Or like a dog. Or a playah (yes, I said playah).
But real dogs and real playahs aren’t obvious.
The solution? A designated pen carrier.
When I was a young’un my crew and I devised a system to combat the appearance of pen having hunger. We had a designated pen carrier. Before we hit any party, event or function of any kind, and on a rotating basis, a member of the crew was entrusted with a quality pen. If and when any member of the team struck gold and successfully impressed a woman enough to get the digits he would say:
“Do you have a pen?”
Almost inevitably the answer would be no. In that case, the gentleman in question would say something like:
“Oh, shit…I don’t either. Lemme see if one of my friends has one.”
And voila. One non hungry looking, can’t be a player because he’s not traveling with a pen, digit having motherf***er.
So, track star Lolo Jones is a virgin. Now I’m guessing many of you don’t know Lolo Jones from Lela Rochon from Lola the showgirl. But you should. Not just because it’s an Olympic year and track and field will be all the rage but because I think she’s fine as f*** and when you’re fine as f*** you need someone to f*** who’s fine. Please excuse my foulness. But it’s true.
Anyhoo. I would offer my services but I doubt I’m her type. But after reading about her difficulties maintaining her virginity I’m pretty sure she’s probably not my type either. But I do have an obvious solution for her. I can solve all her fine a$$ virgin needs. Two words:
And apparently a lot of people are thinking the same thing.
C’mon Internet, c’mon world, let’s make this happen!
On a related note, “dating” site Ashley Madison is offering $1 million dollars to anyone who can prove that Tim Tebow is not a virigin.
Now, I don’t know whether or not this bloke is a virgin and I don’t know why anyone cares really. Except for Lolo perhaps, but it begs a question; if Tim Tebow’s virginity is worth a million bucks, how much do you think your virginity is/was worth?