As usual I am on a plane, looking forward (not) to hours upon hours of being jammed between other fellow passengers. In what amounts to an exercise in humiliation or a reality check, depending on your stance on fat rolls, I fit perfectly fine in the first seat with lenght to spare on my seatbelt. On the second flight, on the other hand, it's barely long enough to snap it close and I cannot unfold the tray completely without having it stab my situation. Anyway ...
So let me clarify my mythical status, as Alain will have it. In between sentences I will probably pop another pill, should this flying coffin start shaking. I will then probably make less sense.
What I said was that it's not difficult for a woman, just about any woman, to pick up a guy. All you need to do is go sit at the bar at your local joint and instead of chatting fervently with your girfirend, look up, gaze around, stop your gaze on somebody. Itś not that difficult. You don't need to be spectacularly attractive and if you are very homely, you just wait for your turn, later in the night. The ol'pecking order. I also said that when I want mainly to get laid or to get myself some love I tend not to go for the 50 something. Obviously, I go for the 20 something or the 30 something. It would make absolutely no sense to choose the least apt to achieve the end.
But then again, I also said that this is the case when you are just looking for some action, which I tend not to, and most of the women I know do not either. I also said that, as most things in life, most people are not terribly proficient at it or, in other words, most men are lousy lays. Basically, you hope for the best, chose the one that looks like he could be somewhat adept at it, listen to a lot of crap.
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