Will you still be sending me a Valentine?

Today I read a new book entitled “Getting Laid In NYC.” It was authored by a self-proclaimed “hustle” and “serial seducer.” He claims that the techniques described in his work will get any man copious amounts of “pussy.” (what he claims is the easiest commodity to acquire, next to water) I won’t go into detail of this book, it was to say the least, shallow. Full of advice from a chauvinist who has no interest other than sex.

However, one piece of advice that he gives does seem to ring true with me. He says that when meeting a girl, you should keep your initial conversation under a minute. Saying the absolute least you need to say in order to get her number. Why, because the longer a guy talks, the more time he gives himself to screw things up. I think that most guys will agree that this is an accurate assessment .

So I had this friend. She was my best friend. I was practically in love with her. She was in very serious relationship (she is now married by the way). I met this girl named Virginia, and started to go out with her. This friend didn’t like it, and the argument that erupted over the issue effectively ended our friendship for a long time (and it has obviously never been the same since).

Virginia knew that something had happened between me and this friend, but she didn’t know what. So one fine spring afternoon, as we lay together on her bed and listened to the birds singing outside her window, she asked me what had happened. I didn’t know what to say. I was in a little bit of denial about the whole thing. I told her, “I don’t think that I want to tell you Virginia.” There was a long silence.

I don’t know why, but that moment has always stuck with me. It stands as one of the times when I said the wrong thing. It was not the only time that happened, but it remains (along with one other more private incident) the strongest in my mind.

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