Jumping on the Grenade

Okay, I know it's been awhile since I've posted here and I can't say I have that great of an excuse, other than there either hasn't really been much to note or I basically blacked out about the previous night and couldn't remember anything useful.

That is, until last Saturday, when I finally got a worthy story to share, namely because my number was up--that's right the all the numbers lined up for once and I actually spent the nice at a chick's house. Which was great because otherwise I would have been sleeping in my car again and it's starting to stink in there.

Long story short, I actually drove down to San Diego on Saturday evening to go out at a club in the Gaslamp district called On Broadway. Now all sorts of people want to know why I do this and all I can say is that once you've been solo clubbing in LA as long as I have...well, it's not as big of a place as you might think. Plus, I've totally grown tired of the stale club scene in all the major spots--and it's tough to find harlots that will give it up. And honestly, if you go out solo in LA, you have to watch your back. There are a lot of sketchy characters out there (example: at Circle Bar in Santa Monica a month ago some guy standing behind me in line said he had a gun; thanks but no thanks.).

In general, I've found that SD chicks are a little more willing to at least hear my pitch, and I don't need to worry about some latino gang member capping me either, with is a bonus.

I could construct a 10-part blog about all of my On-Broadway forays but in this case it's all sort of irrelevant because it's not what happened in the club that cinched anything, it was afterwards. Because after a night of debauchery and letdown, on the way to the car to pass out, I see this hot caucasian chick swarmed by like three suitors. Nothing unusual about that, douchebags cock-sabering over a hot ho is as common as flies on shit. No, what caught my eye here was the homely looking ethnic wench -- she looked part persian or italian or something -- that was leaning against the wall a few feet from these sharks and their prey. Just as sure as Batman has his Robin and Johnny Carson had McMahon, this chick was the ugly friend for the hot number that was teasing those guys a few feet away.

So what do I do? Beeline for the ugly one and parlay. Because if there's one thing that Solo Clubber understands, it's that the nasty chick is much easier to bag than the hot one, especially when it's 1:45am and people are heading home. My plan was to play into this chick's desire to make her hot friend jealous, and it worked hook line and sinker.

You see, chicks are catty, especially the ugly ones who have hot friends who always get all the attention. Deep in their heart of hearts, they secretly hate then for this, and I knew she would love to take a dude home since her friend probably does the same to her. And to make matters even more interesting, the two Turkish guys that are circling the hottie friend as if there was fresh chum in the water are laying it on in such a pathetic and slimy manner, it becomes pretty obvious in fact that the hot friend is actually out of options on this night, no way she was hooking up with such shameless eurotrash.

So the cab ride is me in the front seat, and the two girls in the backseat. I'm not sure I knew what to expect at this point, but I figure I'd get some good face sucking at the minimum, and hopefully so sword-sheathing at the maximum. Though given my track record of ending up cock in hand after seemingly sure things, it was tenuous at best. But again, the manipulation of the ugly chick jealousy against the model worked like a charm, and we ended up cabbing from the friends house back to homely's home where we sealed the deal. Now she was probably a 3-4 on the 1-10 meter but given how hard-up Solo Clubber has been lately, I was more than happy to take it. I grabbed a cab from her house at 9am back to my car and was home asleep in my bed in LA by 11am.

Those are the deets. Analysis to follow...