Theme: Sex Differences

(humor) (experimenting on humans)
Yesterday. Mall. Waiting.
Overhear two tall fit early twenties black guys talking about girls. (Ha! Opportunity calls.) I ask the shorter one: “You guys talking about one women are all women?” (they try to pretend neither cause it’s that kind of store.) I say to both “Don’t gimme that, I heard ya. … I mean, you gotta have good prospects? Right? (They laugh and squirm a bit.) To the one next to me, about five nine. “I’m a great wingman. I’ll talk you up. Help you out.” (that was the bait line. Then I quickly gesture to his friend who can’t be under six three, has a bit of afro fluff to exaggerate it more, has that lithe athletic physique, and face with the smile and eyes that says he owns it.) And I say. Yeah. Him? He doesn’t need my help or anyone elses. And they both break out in laughter and the guy in front of me starts talking smack about how he plows through women like a scythe.

THE SCIENCE OF CLOWN WORLD
I’m basically an a– clown running joy joy experiments on normies for fun as both intellectual interest, and enjoyment of life. The truth is, that most people can be at least interpersonally awsome. A little respect. A little compliment. A little attention. A little humor. And most people who aren’t bad people inside, are quite a bit of fun – when its in their context, and on their terms. 😉

(SECRETS)
This why I loved Sales, Consulting and Intel. “Can I get this person to trust me, develop a relationship, and talk to me? Is there a grain of sand in his or her knowledge that fits into a constellation of other grains of knowledge that provides information I (others) can use – especially indirectly for leverage somewhere with someone?”

It’s why I love ‘biz environment research’, ‘street research’ and ‘social media research’. Though I gotta tell you that working with politicians, bureaucrats, and the military is like trying to convince a conspiracy theory addict that chem trails are just water vapor.

Meanwhile, if you’re say, an economic advisor to someone running for the house (I have tried twice) you quickly realize almost no one in the house is competent to balance a checkbook, and so thank god for the senior senators and the few safe long term house members that make this kindergarten look vaguely rational long enough that our infrequent glimpses behind the curtain don’t discover it’s all semi-intellectual punch-and-judy back there – except punch and judy spend most of their time arguing about fundaising, donors, and not causing special interest groups to conduct cancel campaigns. (it’s not really that bad, it just feels like it to me – hate it.)

And then you’re at some party on a floating casino on the Dnipr river in summer while hired ‘models’ (5s and 6s, not hookers, just ‘atmosphere’), try to get you to socialize with others the sponsor has invited, and stuff drinks in you face. They know the guy so this is a normal part time gig for them. And you’re trying to make sure you remain sober enough that you can absently listen to the guy bragging about shipping stolen cars broken into parts to avoid import tarrifs, with some of them stuffed with drugs, and others small arms, then assembling the cars and selling them for cash, handing off the dope, and god knows what he does with the small arms, through the port of Odessa – or if it’s much of it’s even more than trivially true (I bet the dope isn’t. not paranoid enough, the right type, or behaving like he has the cash.). All while the guy next to me was an easy mark, and seems to be willing to talk about his past work observing the decommissioning of ukraininan nukes, and what they’ve learned about the sad condition of current russian nukes – none of which is useful. Or the other think tank guy from Denmark that’s been in country for ten years, and has amazing contacts, but considers making any progress here like waiting for water to boil – when it’s a whole lotta water and a very small flame. And this is while the guy who invited me is working too hard for scraps of my attention to establish camaraderie, because I am guessing he has an investment pitch to make, and I’m afraid if I engage I can’t lead him on successfuly enough to buy the time I want with his extended circles – mostly beause like every other pitch of heard in eastern europe, it’s not an investment that has any hope of a return, and instead is a permanent loan at no interest with questionable chance of repayment – and it’s almost impossible to get away once they smell green, and so I percieve him as a risk if I can’t make quick use. And he seems to have invited some other european expats a few young and ridiculous pretenders, and a couple far more questionable character than I, including one who sets off my creepy loser possibly pedophile alert, and one of whom, because he has a lot of experience with ukraine, crime, and deception, I am pretty sure isn’t fully buying my reputation as a wealthy tech guy opening a biz in Ukraine, and oddly ‘getting around’ faster than he did – but it could be just sizing me up or class envy, and i’m over-analyzing his behavior.

Meanwhile, I mean, I’m a human male and my parts still work, and these girls are distracting my limbic system, testosterone and autism like a crow triggered by a shiny object long enough to get hit by a car and convert instantly to road kill. And the crowd, even in this ‘sunken living room special area’ of the club, with too much tacky red, combined with all the talking, and the lights and the music are causing my usual autistic pattern matching machine to grow frustrated enough to make me dizzy, while at the same time I’m trying to manage suppressing that effect with the perfect combination of not moving the around the place too much, sticking near the same people, sipping the martini at the right pace, making sure I haven’t lost my inhaler, or had my phone stolen. And this is going on before I tell you what my real objective with the these ridiculous shipping guys, because I’m not getting vibes I can get past this guy’s intuition without manufacturing a situation – and getting in his vicinity as a ‘bump’ (accident) isn’t easy.

I honestly have no recollection of later in the night, other than trying to get back to my hotel before dawn despite having somehow lost my bodyuard. It might be because it was just a stream of sameness or boredom and I can’t recall, or it might be because I failed to self regulate the vodka martinis. And while I’ve been dosed before in a club in Russia (by the bartender to get us to leave) nothing similar happend in ukraine and I don’t remember the horrific feeling the day after.

Anyway, I’m sitting in one of my favorite cafes a week or two later, and he walks in with two of his buddies and askes me to join them. (Very very common over there.) Accidents are as good as plans. 😉 Bump successful.

Lots more to this story. But I have dozens like it. And it’s been almost ten years, and distant enough that it’s ok to blab about.
Or at least for the most part. 😉

I hope you got a giggle or laugh in theres somewhere.

I’m just enjoying the fact that my faculties have returnd, and my writing is flowing from my fingertips like normal me again. I just hope I can write something serious over the next 24 hours instead of reminiscing about nonsense.

Hugs