Literature Is Not Dead

On May 23rd I plan to launch my series of stories titled “Flying Wingman.” They concern my main character, Jace Miller, and his friends in their efforts to navigate and conquer the twisted world of twenty-something romance. Below is a taste of what’s to come.

Your eyes dissect the room, male/female, and then sort the female group like a machine sorting merchandise on a conveyor belt. The first question: is she worth it or not? Purely physical, face, chest, whatever body parts you can see, do a rough Body-Mass Index in your head, check the face again and make your call. If yes, move on to accessories.

Is she dressed well? Social status, style sense, subculture affiliation, maintenance level required, rate her on each and then categorize according to what’s important to you. Lastly, do a freedom check. Is she deep in conversation with her group of girls and not looking up to see who’s around her? Obvious boyfriend got a hand in her pocket? Ring? It’s the finger next to the pinky. (On the left hand, fellas.)

Now you know all you need. It may take a few minutes because you can only look for a second at a time, but you can put the big picture together the way still frames become a movie.

Now decide to move.

Now figure out how.

That order is crucial. Get your airplane into the air and you’ll die 30,000 feet high or you’ll figure out how to win. Try and figure out how to win first and the enemy will bomb you while you’re still on the ground. She’ll go home with the pilot that didn’t stop to plan.

Approaching girls is hard, but you figure out how when you’ve taken two steps towards her and only have five steps left to go.

Drink? It’s full; you can’t buy her one.

No previous eye contact, so you can’t use the “I saw you notice me” line.

Three steps left.

She’s dressed too normal, nothing to work with there.

She’s not watching the game, was just chatting with her friends, isn’t near any idiots you can make fun of.

One step, she’s looking up at you now.

Smile. Pickup line? Never. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

The old classic, a smile and a hello almost always get returned. And in the first second you know how hard you have to work. Dim smile, no exclamation point on the “Hi,” she’s not that impressed with your looks. You’re going to have to have a personality.

“My name’s Jace.”

“I’m Hannah.”

“Where you from, Hannah?” This is small talk, amateur shit, but aces fly the same planes as losers, they just fly them better. Use the small talk.

“Denver.”

Single word answer. Bad, and what can you do with Denver? Ah, a quote. A dumb one from a great movie, and if she doesn’t get the reference you can play like it’s all yours.

“Ah, the sunshine state.”

She gives a tough look, like you stole her seat on the metro. Parry with innocent befuddlement

“No? I thought… what’s the sunshine state then, Minneapolis?”

She does’t laugh. Two possibilities: She really dislikes you or she’s a fucking idiot. Either way, she couldn’t buy her way into your bed now.

“Denver’s a city, not a state.” And that proves she can’t take a joke. She thought you were serious and so it’s time for an exit, as graceful as you can possibly be.

“Well, you learn something new every day, don’t you, Hannah? It was good to meet you.”

Smile. Remember, you didn’t lose, you just picked wrong. Walk away. Radar on. There, the brunette. Check out that shirt! Is that a boyfriend? Time to go check in with your friends. The brunette will wait a minute.

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