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Hi Slick,
My job is inspiring,
because I’m coaching you to want to go out there and win the girls as
opposed to staying stuck in your rut as a loser.
When you and Farrah
originally started running into each other, I just hope she was the one saying
hello to you first. Because you’re not supposed to be talking to her
first. (And when she was running up and down the stairs I hope you didn’t
stand there gaping at her either!)
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I want the girl starting the conversations.
She lives in your building. You’re going to be running into her
periodically. Let her come at you with the chitchat. Let her ask how you are.
Let her linger when she sees you. To you Psych majors, I want her adding to
her buying signals. But when the man jumps in with his big mouth and starts
blabbing, he doesn’t give her the opportunity. The result is that you
don’t know a thing about her Interest Level. And YOUR 85% Interest
Level means nothing.
Slick, what did you get out of fixing
Farrah’s car? As soon as she asked you to work on it (for free, I’m
assuming, like you’re doing everything else in your life), you should have
said “And what’s for dinner?” If there were the slightest
hesitation on her part, you’d know she was just looking to date a mechanic
(which is better than no job at all!).
I’m sure it was fun
hanging around Farrah, but what about her? Did she have a fun time? Or, like my
cousin Fast Eddie Love says, “Was she just impressed by the fact that she
didn’t get a repair invoice for $78.56?”
By the way, my
friend, are you hitting the streets with a suit and tie looking for a job eight
to 10 hours a day? Are you pounding on doors? If you’re doing all that,
you’re fine, guy. But let me tell you something. Let’s say you do
succeed in getting Farrah to go out with you, and you do everything right for
the first time in your life. And six months go by, and then you’re out of
work for a full calendar year, you’re not driving a Mercedes and
you’re still stuck with that old “classic.” Sooner or later
Farrah’s going to start putting two and two together and saying to
herself, “Where’s this guy going?”
Slick, in your
deprived circumstances you get a hot young babe to go out with you by hitting
the lottery. By the way, have you ever noticed that when someone asks,
“How old are you,” and you say “50,” they never say,
“Gee, you don’t look a day under 65!” Like my cousin Rabbi Love
says, “If everybody looks younger, maybe we should lower everybody’s
age.”
Being 10 years Farrah’s senior is fine, as long as
you’re a corporate lawyer making $128,000 a year, drive a new Corvette and
your weekend car is a spanking new SUV. I think it’s great that you
don’t spill too much info about yourself, because usually when you like a
girl you feel the compulsion to tell her everything about yourself in the first
10 minutes. And in your case, it means you’d have to tell her you’re
at least 32 and you’ll probably never have a job again.
You
don’t know who Farrah is seeing, dude. Unless you’re Donald Trump and
have the money to hire someone to follow her around 24/7, you don’t know
anything about her. Mister Trump can afford to check her out, but you
can’t. Since you’re on unemployment compensation, you have to worry
about making the monthly rent.
Farrah never talked about her boyfriend
because she wanted you to fix her car first. Like my cousin Sal “The
Fish” Love says, “Don’t worry, once her vehicle passes
inspection, she’ll be talking about all kinds of guys.”
You’ve not told me one single thing that Farrah does to verify that she
has any kind of chemistry with you. All you’ve talked about is your high
Interest Level, the fact that you live in an old apartment, you’re long in
the tooth, you can’t get a job and nobody likes you.
Here’s
what you do. Don’t talk about your nonexistent job or that you’re on
“hellfare.” If Farrah asks how old you are, tell you’re 73, and
she’ll laugh, then ask her how old she is before she can call you a liar.
And if she asks if you’re working, you answer “Presently I’ve
got three companies on the line and I just don’t know which one to
choose.” If she’s really dumb, tell her “Honey, I’m between
careers.”
Remember, guys: it’s hard to work girls when you
don’t have any moolah. |
