The Game

much. I found that out one night when I returned home to find the following message on my machine:
Hey Style, it’s Ross. I’m in a cranky mood. It’s ten after twelve. Normally when I’m in a cranky mood, I call people I don’t like and chew them out. But I’m not going to do that. I’m just going to tell you that it’s uneven. It won’t kill you to take me to more than one party, buddy, though I think you owe me a lot more than that.
    If you don’t come through, I won’t get mad. I’ll just cut you out of the Speed Seduction community and everything else. I really will. So think about how my work has changed your life, and think about what you’ve given in return and what you’ve promised to give. It’s just not fair. I’m hoping there’s more to you than that. If it sounds like a challenge I’d issue to a girl, so be it.
    I understood where Ross was coming from. I had been completely ignoring him since our last party together. He’d have to hypnotize the image of him sniffing Carmen Electra’s butt out of my head if I was ever going to take him to a party again.
    However, I called Ross a couple of nights later and invited him to dinner for old-time’s sake. He wasn’t as angry as I thought he’d be, chiefly because his mind was consumed by someone else: Tyler Durden.
    “The guy gives me the willies,” Ross said. “There’s something creepy about his lack of ordinary human warmth. I wouldn’t be surprised if sooner or later he breaks from Mystery and just teaches totally on his own. He’s uncomfortable around people who are more powerful than him. Besides, he’s already claiming to be better than Mystery.”
    Though I wrote the comment off as more of Ross’s competitive paranoia, Tyler Durden soon proved him right.
    And it was my fault, according to Mystery.
    “The workshops aren’t fun anymore,” Mystery complained. He was calling from New Jersey, where he was rained in with Tyler Durden and Papa at the home of a PUA named Garvelous, who invented toys for a living. “They’re just work. These things are only fun when you come with, because then we get to wing each other.”
    I was flattered, though workshops weren’t supposed to be fun; as the name implied, they were work.
    “Besides, my goals are changing,” he continued. “It started with wanting attention. Now I think I’m looking for love. I want to be in a relationship where I can feel butterflies in my stomach. I want a woman I can respect for her art, like a singer or a super-hot stripper.”
    The inevitable split came soon after.
    Mystery flew to England and Amsterdam with Tyler and Papa to teach another round of workshops. When he left with glowing reviews and numerous requests for an encore performance, Tyler Durden and Papa stayed behind to run a few workshops of their own to satisfy the demand. They were on break from college, and teaching men how to pick up women seemed a lot more appealing as an interim job than scooping ice cream or working at the local Baby Gap.
    Mystery phoned as soon as he returned to Toronto. “My father has lung cancer, so he’s on his way out,” he said. “It’s strange, but the first person I wanted to call was you.”
    “So how do you feel about it?”
    “I’m not upset, but my mom was crying and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her cry. Dad always wanted whiskey poured on his grave, so my brother said, ‘I just hope he doesn’t mind me filtering it through my bladder first.’”
    Mystery laughed. I tried to force a chuckle out for his sake. But it didn’t come. The image wasn’t funny to anyone who didn’t hate the guy.
    Meanwhile, Tyler Durden and Papa were running wild in Europe. At first, they pretty much taught Mystery’s material. But that all changed one night in London, when they came into their own in the great outdoors of Leicester Square, ground zero for backpackers, clubbers, tourists, players, and drunks. It was here that AMOGing was born.
    The AMOG is the alpha male of the group, a constant thorn in the side of sargers. There’s nothing more humiliating than having a lumbering high school quarterback who reeks of alcohol pick you up from behind and make fun of your peacocking gear in front of the girls you’re trying to game. It’s a constant reminder that you are not one of the popular kids, that you’re just a closet nerd faking it.
    Tyler Durden may have been the biggest closet nerd of us all. But what he lacked in coolness and grace, he made