The Knitting Fiend

Since you all know the story of Carmen , let me tell you about joining my man-candy-good-looks talkative sister at the bar at Nine before flitting off to watch the Opera last evening.

My sister and I had agreed to meet at 5:30 pm just outside Nine a “at the trendy West Loop spot”. Knowing it’s a 30 minute drive to Chicago when traffic is light, I left Lisle at 4:10 pm. With my deft driving skills, and stupendous ability to spot convenient parking spaces, I managed to arrive at Nine at 6:00 pm.

Mary Beth, a smart cookie who knew I left at 4:10 pm, realized I would be late; wisely, she took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of wine.

So far, so good.

Now, bear in mind, Mary Beth with flaming red tresses, green eyes and a to-die-for Eva-Longoria-like figure, is eye candy. Plus, she was dressed for the Opera wearing a sequined shoulder and decollete baring tank top, hair coifed attractively, and adorned with just the right amount of make up. Not overdressed, but not her usual “I just got off work from my job at the library” type outfit. (My sister, is, in fact, a librarian.)

Also, bear in mind that growing up, my sister and I developed “secret signals” to use at parties so I could help each her escape from guys who seemed to have developed an unwelcome appetite for the man-candy. Yes, in our dating is like hockey metaphor, I was Mary Beth’s “wing-man”.

After each successful intervention, we discussed and compared tactics used by suitors. Was he deft? Clueless? What? Needless to say, we analyzed this suitor’s technique. And now, I’ll share my analysis with you.

When I arrived, I saw a slightly younger looking gentleman seated next to my sister. He had spotted her, walked up and requested her permission to occupy the adjacent seat. (Technique note 1: Scope the place out; pick target; be polite.)

Mary Beth, who knew her wing-man was arriving, and who still enjoys observing pick-up tactics new and old, granted his request.

I walked up to my sister. She introduced this gentleman as “Jim Whatever-his-last-name-was”; henceforth, we shall refer to him as “Jimmy-boy”. As I shook his hand, I appraised him:

Attractive in that “I grew up rich and attended an expensive private all boy Catholic high-school on the banks of Lake Michigan” sort of way. You know, like John Roberts, only younger. He was, well groomed, apparently well mannered and . . .

(Technique note 2: “Every Girl’s Crazy ‘Bout a Sharp Dressed Man.”)

We exchanged some chit chat. He told us we both looked “Fabulous”. (Technique note 3: Always compliment every woman’s outfit.)

Naturally, I thanked him, but explained that I only looked fabulous because I was wearing my sister’s hand me downs. This was evidently a wonderful witticism. (Technique note 4: Find all comments witty! )

Chit chat continued. He dubbed us beautiful, brilliant, scintillating and positively witty. Mind you, our witty exchanges consisted of things like this:

We discussed my work. In response to something or other, Jimmy-boy said: “Ahh.. I see you do ’scenarios’.” And, I said… “Uhhhmm.. .. yeah… Well, I always think of it as just dispersion modeling.”

See? I’m absolutely brilliant! How can I come back with such engaging , off the cuff, responses? (Technique note 5: Everything any woman says, even “dsipersion modeling” is brilliant.)

But, Jimmy-Boy ramped up on technique 5. He claimed to know what dispersion modeling was. He not only knew, but claimed to find it fascinating and engrossing! ( Technique note 6: Claim what the woman’s job is fascinating and engrossing! )

I was ready to delve into his knowledge of dispersion modeling when the hostess interrupted us. Having been assured of our infinite wit and beauty, my sister and I flitted off to our table, waving and giggling.

Thinking ahead, I took the seat facing the bar; I could continue to observe this Jimmy-Boy. Meanwhile, my sister filled me in on this guy’s earlier pick up techniques.

Let me tell you, this guy was smooth.

His has his first move down pat. After sitting next to her, he spotted her cell phone and enquired about it. (Technique note 7: Hone your observation skills and come up with a question on a very neutral subject. Avoid cliché’s like “What’s your sign” or “Beautiful weather we’re having”. )

She explained her sister was late and might call. What a coincidence! His wife was late! (Technique notes 8 & 9: Provide a plausible excuse for hanging out in the bar. When possible, use the “We’re both in the same boat, line.” )

My sister noticed he then deftly turned to conversation to looks. All pick up artists do. But this guy was slicker than most; he didn’t discuss her looks. He began discussing looks in the abstract. Avoiding the clumsy, “Nice boobs.”, he substitude “I have a friend who’s a plastic surgeon. He does terrific things with breast augmentation!”

Undoubtedly, Jimmy-boy was disappointed this did not cause my sister to begin to discuss her boobs. Undaunted, he turned the conversation to my looks. “Does she look like you?” Mary Beth, a red head, answered, “She’s a brunette.”

Clearly trying to turn the discussion to my sister’s assets, he asked “Does she have great legs?” (Technique note 10: Does any woman not hear the implied “like you?”)

Evidently, at that point, I materialized. Having driven nearly 2 hours in stop and go traffic, searched for parking, picked a ridiculous lot, and walked 6 blocks in heels, my dress was rumpled and my hair was windblown. Wearing my sister’s hand me downs, I look, and of course, dressed, sufficiently like my sister to make him guess that I might be the brunette sister.

Spotting me, he turned to my sister and questioned, “Is that brunette with the great legs your sister?” (Technique note 11: Compliment the sister’s legs. The eye-candy target cannot get insulted. Smooth! )

Of course, I observed him myself from that point on. As we dissected our steaks, I could confirm my sisters impression that this guy was a smoother operator than most.

Now, recall that as my sister regaled me with tales of the tuxedo-clad Jimmy, I was seated where I could observed him. Imagine my surprise when his “wife” arrived. Recall that, like me, “she” had been delayed in traffic. Let your imagination run further and picture this “wife” as a prosperous looking gentleman dressed in a expensive looking business suit.

The two well dressed gentlemen glanced over to our table and discussed a few things, settled their tab, and left.

Giggling, I laughed as I told my sister “Well, it is refreshing to learn the story of the “wife” delayed in traffic wasn’t just a line.