The Game

again. He was one of the few pickup artists who wasn’t needy, who didn’t scare away my real-life friends, who made me laugh, who was normal. And for that very reason I didn’t believe he was truly a pickup artist: He was simply a funny, masterful conversationalist. He seemed especially witty in comparison to Mystery, who was freezing us all out and making dinner somewhat uncomfortable. If Mystery’s plan worked, it would be worth it; if not, then he was just an asshole.
    Afterward, Mystery said decisively, “We’re heading back to my place, and I’m going to show you the video I made of last night.” Victory belongs to the person with the strongest reality and the most decisive actions.
    As we watched the video at Mystery’s house, Caroline couldn’t stop smiling. Afterward, I brought her into No. 9’s room, and we lay on the bed and slowly undressed each other. Her body trembled with so much emotion that it seemed to dissipate beneath me. It felt like making love to a cloud. When she came, she didn’t make a sound.
    As we lay together afterward, Caroline rolled away from me. She stared at the wall and grew distant. I knew what she was thinking.
    When I asked her about it, she burst into tears. “I gave it up too fast,” she sobbed. “Now I’m never going to see you again.”
    They were such sweet words, because they were so honest. I slid my arm under her and placed her head on my shoulder. I told her first of all that every passionate relationship I’ve ever had began passionately. It was a line I’d learned from Mystery, but I did believe it. Second, I told her that maybe she shouldn’t have, but she wanted to and needed to. It was a line I’d learned from Ross Jeffries, but I did believe it. Third, I told her that I was more mature than a lot of the people she’d been with before, so not to judge me by her past experiences. It was a line I’d learned from David X, but I did believe it. Finally, I told her that I’d be sad if I never saw her again. It wasn’t a line.
    When we finally emerged into the front room, we found Carly and Mystery wrapped around each other in a blanket. Judging by the clothing strewn across the floor, Mystery’s freeze-out had been a success.
    Caroline and I spooned on the couch next to them, and together we watched an episode of The Osbournes on Mystery’s computer, each basking in our own post-coital glow. It was a beautiful moment. And it wouldn’t last.

There is nothing more bonding than successfully picking up girls together. It is the basis for a great friendship. Because afterward, when the girls are gone, you can finally give each other the high-five that you’ve been holding back since you met them. It is the sweetest high-five in the world. It’s not just the sound of skin hitting skin; it’s the sound of brotherhood.
    “You know what’s so fucked up?” Mystery said. “I feel so bad, and then a girl sleeps with me and likes me and, bam, I’m on top of the world again.”
    Smack.
    “So?” Mystery asked.
    “So.”
    “Are you ready to commit to this lifestyle?”
    “I thought I was committed.”
    “No, for life. It’s in your blood now. You and me, we have to challenge each other. Of all the guys I’ve met, you’re my only competition. No one else has the chance to reach the throne except you.”
    When I was a teenager, I’d lie awake in bed, praying to God, “Please don’t let me die before having sex. I just want to see what it feels like.” But now I have a different dream. At night, I lay in bed and ask God to just let me have the opportunity to be a father before I die. I’ve always lived for experience: traveling, learning new skills, meeting new people. But having a child is the ultimate experience: It’s what we’re here for. And despite my rakish behavior, I hadn’t lost sight of that.
    Yet, at the same time, living for experiences also means wanting the novelty and adventure of dating different women. I can’t imagine ever choosing one person for life. It’s not that I’m scared of commitment; it’s that I’m scared of arguing with someone I love over whose turn it is to do the dishes, of losing the desire to have sex with the woman lying next to me every night, of taking a back seat in her heart to our children, of resenting someone for limiting my freedom to be selfish.
    This pickup thing had never been about sowing my wild oats. My oats are always going to be wild. And that’s not necessarily something I