Since I have accrued what little experience I have, little gives me more satisfaction than confirmation of a game concept in real life or getting the bang. I have not fucked that many girls, but I have kissed enough that I can keep track of that and I don’t bother to anymore. Kissing a new girl gets kinda boring after the first night. Still, the other night was good one. I went to a bar to meet up a couple of friends, to play ping pong.
At first I was not enjoying myself. I didn’t really feel like going out, but I said I would earlier, and didn’t want to dilute my word with a honest but weak “I don’t feel like it”. I had not spent much time with my friend anyway, so I figured, what the hell. When I got there, I didn’t have much fun at first.There were two of my friends. Let’s call them George and Eddy. We played the ping pong game where everyone lined the table and took turns hitting the ball back and forth until nobody was left except the final two. I’m not bad at ping pong by any stretch, but I kept getting knocked out in the beginning. This started to piss me off because I know I’m not bad at ping pong and should be doing better. My mood got worse until my facial expression must have made me look like a serial killer. I got in one guy’s way going around the table and paused for a second. When he raised his arms in a “What the hell are you doing man?!” I contemplated stabbing him in the neck with my key, or causing some other grievous bodily harm, but I was up again soon.I recognized in my head that I wasn’t having a good time. I accepted it. Some nights suck.
I repeated it several times in my head. Nothing happened at first. I sat down and George came by. “You look pretty bored man”, he said. “Yeah, I’m annoyed that I keep getting knocked out so early. I traveled forty minutes to just sit down?” He understood my frustration but didn’t seem to understand the nuance when I said, “I’d rather get knocked out because the other guy outplayed me than just because I made a careless mistake.” I noticed him talking to a German girl who was part of the ping pong line. She wasn’t especially pretty but she wasn’t harsh on the eyes either.
“Who’s the girl?”
“I don’t know.”
“You should ask her name”
I was trying to rib George into action. It seemed like the girl was interested in him. Later when I was in line next to him, she managed to position her self in between us so she could talk to him some more. A few more rounds ’round the table and I was out, probably because I was focusing on my friend and the girl. I started to smile a bit and stopped caring about ping pong. The two of them passed me by and I heard an exchange of names. Another smile, from ear to ear this time. Unfortunately, my buddies got tired of ping pong and wanted to leave.
“Aren’t you gonna say good bye?”
“Where is she?”
“In the corner, right there.”
“Did you get her number?”
“Nah. I’m tired. Wasn’t feeling it.”
“Doesn’t matter. Takes five seconds to ask her number. Tell her you liked the conversation and want to talk more.”
“Nah man, I’m tired.”
“You’ll never get a number if you don’t try. All I’m saying is that you’ll miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”
Eddy agreed with me and took his time to explain that he was on the same side of the fence as me on things. I was hungry so we got food before we left. I ordered a Döner in Turkish, they got their food in German. As we got on the U-Bahn, I talked more with George who was reluctant to act on the German girl. Meanwhile I noticed Eddy talking to some girl next to him. I smiled once more and continued talking with George. George explained his lack of effort as wanting to stay with his friends and being tired. I explained to George that if he thought he was gonna get his dick wet, I’d not think any worse of him, if he ditched to pursue. He clarified that when it was just me and him, it was different. But when he went out with the group, with girls, he had to make sure they got home okay.
“Let me ask you something, George. Are you really friends with any of these girls?”
“Just Laura, I’ve known her since kindergarten.”
“Alright. That’s understandable. But she goes home early. She takes care of herself.”
“But what about Sarah? Or Maria?”
“What about them?”
“Are you fucking them?”
“That’s right. Maria’s got a boyfriend. It’s his job to take care of her. Not yours. And Sarah’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. She’s not your reponsibility.”
“I see what you’re saying, word up.”
“I mean, god knows Sarah needs some dick. But still. Not your responsibility.”
I got off the U-Bahn with Eddy and I smirked.
“So who’s the girl?”
“Did you get her number?”
“Yeah, we’re hanging out sometime this weekend.”
“Too bad I’m not here for long.”
“That just means that if somehow it gets fucked up, you’ll never see her again. Try something new.”
“Yeah man, you’re right.”
We chatted some more about the George and how he dealt with girls. Eddy distanced himself from George, telling me that he didn’t put girls onto pedestals and stuff. I explained that didn’t think George put girls on pedestals, he just wasn’t on his game. I was trying to make him go for the girl even if he wasn’t on it at the moment That’s all. I made a mention that only one guy I knew of, Hunter, was doing anything.
“Yeah, but Hunter’s going for underage.”
Eddy was refering to the recent drama surround Hunter where a host sister of a fat girl, Catherine, went out and kissed Hunter out of the blue. They proceeded to make out a bunch. Typical of American girls, Catherine played the mother hen. Everyone made a hub-ub about the host sister being 17 and Hunter being 20. I smacked down this notion from Eddy by stating that it was both legal and normal. I gave the example of the frustrated American woman knocking on older celebrities who go for younger women. They’re just jealous. Same thing with Catherine. When Eddy said the German girl looked a bit old, I asked him how old the oldest girl he’s been with was. He said, “21 when I was 19”. That’s nothing of course and I told him about my experience with a 40 year old Chinese woman. He shut up about age shortly after before boarding his train home. I got on my train on the S1 line, Richtung Wannsee. I sat in a booth and after one stop, a cute girl sat across from me. I thought of what I’d say in my head what seemed like a minute.
“Entschuldigung. Weißt du ob dieser Zug nach Rathaus Steglitz fährt?”
“Excuse me. Do you know whether this train goes to Rathaus Steglitz?”
“Ach so, gut.”
“Ah okay. Good.”
I picked up on a slight accent. Game on.
“Du hast so einen Akzent. Woher kommst du aus?”
“You’ve got an accent. Where are you from?”
She lets slip a small smile.
“Somewhere I can’t remember”
“Echt? Ich lebte 6 Jahren in Frankreich. In Paris.”
“Really? I lived in France for six years. In Paris.”
She smiles a bigger smile this time.
“J’ai habitez a Paris pour 6 ans. Mais j’ais oblier beaucoup de mon vocabulaire.”
“I lived in Paris for 6 years. But I lost a lot of my vocabulary.”
“Mais vous parlez très bien français.”
“But you speak pretty good French.”
We got into a conversation where I asked her what she was doing in Berlin, how she liked it. She asked me the same and what my father did for work. We talked about accents and traveling. Then it was Rathaus Steglitz. It was her stop. I walked out with her and to her bike. I said my university was near by and that I was meeting a friend for drinks before I left to my actual station, two stops down.
“Es war schön mit dir zu reden. Wir können uns noch einen anderen Tag reden.”
“It was nice talking with you. Maybe we can speak again another day.”
I stuck out my phone. Her battery was dead so I just let her put her name and number in my phone. I introduced myself.
“Je m’appelle (Wald).”
“My name is (Wald).”
“Je m’appelle (C).”
“My name is (C).”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Have a nice evening.”
“Toi aussi. Au revoir!”
“You too. Good bye!”
I waited until she left and then got home. I don’t really care if I meet her again. If I do, I’ll invite her to play pool and then have her come to a salsa lesson with me. If not, that’s also cool. I’m just happy that I practice what I preach.