The Pick-Up Chronicles Part III

Chapter 4.
The First Parties.


I'm a jealous bitch.

Somebody said to me that jealousy comes from insecurity. But I believe that it comes from fear. Or lack of trust. This time is not the case. (And It's not the subject either).

So, I was left scared when I saw what college was about.
It was supposed to be about people studying and being their little brother's example (I had a poor conception of life, remember?). So I started to wonder if I ever would find a place of my own. I hated that. That people had issues man, that people spent their lives without a purpose, without the slightest idea of what they wanted for themselves when it ended, they just wanted to party. They just wanted to smoke and drink. They just wanted to live comfortably and get it all easy. And the worst part: I was starting to be THEM.

I started to drink on that party where my buddy took me, maybe, in fact I don't really remember the first time I drank. I remember the first time I smoked and it was awful, and I also remember the first time I learned how my body worked. But I'm soooo not telling you.

Well, I didn't like that. But I needed to socialize, and this was the time. So I started to go to parties. There was a lot of beer, awful music and I liked it. And, by the time I started to go out a lot, I just didn't knew how that worked, the reason why of all that people gathered and it really made me feel out of place. Well I was. The only thing on my mind was that, somewhere in the world, (maybe somewhere near) there was a special girl who was thinking exactly the same, who looked at the stars and thought about it too. Now that I think about it, I'm hopelessly romantic. .)

I used to got bored at parties. Yes, they're parties, they're for fun. Sure...
Later on I discovered that they worked as human gatherings for the very purpose of self-display and for the seek of receptive potential partners for physical intercourse. You don't believe me, you said?
Ok, let's think of a party situation: You get there. There is people who tried to dress well, ok? The house's owner swept the floor, washed the restroom, washed the dishes, tried to made it all looked perfect. For the good of his/her own image. Then, more people. More man than women, as usual (the reason behind this is because girls tend to believe that they're not meeting the love of their lives at a house party and therefore, when they go, they form packs...), and, there is always a guy who talks to everyone about how rich, handsome, talented or whatever he is. He is trying to demonstrate value (but he is not, *hint*). The girls who are not in a current relationship, get to the party dressed to kill and they usually tend to move all over the place to display themselves. Guys are trying to hook-up with someone for the night, but when they fail, they usually get drunk. And they fail because they think that the process is: meeting, drinking and then sex. I'll talk about the sequence later, but I wanted to explain my particular view first.

I got bored there, but college had it's funny side.
Everyday after school ended, we used to stand by the freeway and ask for a ride to the passing trucks. And, no matter how long we had to wait, we always rode for free. We made jokes and laugh for days about them. We did radio and we loved it. But it still was boring.

I got used to parties and to not so heavy drinking after a while and thought my life was gonna be like this from then on.
But there was something that changed my life. Well, someone. Well... let me tell you:

I was a good student, got great notes and had awesome plans who always stopped in their tracks for the lack of resources or will from others. But, there came a girl from UK who made my universe wider. I only knew what my lil' town had to give, but the things she told me and the way she used to move and act were nothing but prove that I needed to go far beyond my wildest limits to get to someone like her. We became friends. I was his assistant in an English class, given the case that I had passed the TOEFL test and there wasn't need for me to take a class, but to give it. I liked her. But I was a shy guy, who dressed bad and leaned to anyone who paid me a little attention. I needed to change.

One day, she invited me to a party. I was happy. C'mon! She was gorgeous, and she was going with her friend, who was as cute as she. So I was gonna spend the night with two pretty girls at an elite party. It was all perfect, until I went for a vodka and found them making out with some random guys. I freaked out. I had no chance to tell a girl to make out with me to feel less pain or chance to run away, because I was was too far from the city. So I waited. And yes, I got drunk. I wandered around the tennis courts and the swimming pools until the girls called me to go back to town. I agreed and jumped on a car that was not the one we came in. In the car there were the guys my so-called "friends" were making out with. The guys speaked in Spanish about going to a motel with the girls and dropping me somewhere near so I could catch a cab. I couldn't believe it. There was enough clarity in the girls to tell the driver to take me somewhere safe, while at the same time, enough craziness to fuck guys they had just met.

That was odd.
And I learned that, anywhere in the world, the same rules apply when it comes to this game.
I thought I had learned enough, but, that night, I was proved wrong.

End of Chapter 4.

The Pick-up Chronicles Part II

Chapter 3.
Baby Steps.

The first class was at 7 a.m. I entered the room and started to look for a girl that I might like. There was none. There were just ordinary people, with seemingly ordinary motivations and ways.
I sat and listened to whatever the teachers had to say.

One week after the first class, we were in the house of a classmate, getting to know each others. And there was beer. There was a girl who seemed expert on those drinking matters and in those more sexual themes. She immediately went to the hunt of a green-eyed guy who were in our class. They started to kiss, using a bottle game as a pretext. They connected in a matter of days. I never thought that was possible. They were, 10 minutes later, kissing in a closed room where, as far as my imagination went, she was giving him a blow**b. I was shocked. I was really shocked.

The things I knew before I entered college were overwhelmed by those I was seeing. Sex. Drugs. Alcohol in major amounts. People barfing out of party houses. Girls wearing thongs and acting like they weren't. Couples that dissapeared and appeared inside of rooms on second floors. And the list goes on.

If you read last chapter, you may have noticed that I didn't drink. And I was a good boy, who wanted to kiss girls as main objective. But this was too much. I hated drinkers, smokers, and people who played wrong the guitar or in a poser way. Now that I look back, I was afraid of anything in which I could loose control. I wasn't cool.

I had a friend who made t-shirts for living. He invited me to the party of a truly cool guy. That was the first I remember I drank. And I drank way too much. After a couple vodkas and a couple "micheladas" I crawled to the bathroom and puked. I was drunk, I liked being drunk. But it felt awful. I went sit on a puff and then to the terrace for some fresh air.

The cool guys' sister went to the house's terrace to speak to me. I was looking to a street lamp as it was an hipnotizer's pendulum. She said a couple things I didn't understand as I turned to see the guy who took me to the party, looking for some advice. But he was smoking a joint and ignored me. The girl then said something about having a daughter and feeling alone. The she asked me if I wanted to go downstairs with her. I didn't wanted to. She then asked me if I had a condom. I didn't. So she left. She went downstairs alone. The cool guy never knew about it.

That was the first time I got drunk and got sex offered.
That was a lot to a guy like the old me.
But it had something that excited me, and made me want more.

Little I knew that I needed to learn how that enviroment worked, so I could get to kiss girls. That was all I wanted.

End of Chapter 3.