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Survival of The Smoothest

Memoirs of Eros Casanova. Entry 1, Final Part 3.

By Jose DuronPublished 3 years ago 15 min read
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Survival of The Smoothest
Photo by Dainis Graveris on Unsplash

“Congrats.” I type and tag Mars.

“Thank you, man.” He replies quickly, “I wouldn’t have done it without you.” I smile and recall the events of last night.

Lucid and I sat next to each other in the booth; Mars, Neptune, and Alabaster across from us. The light of the table hangs low enough to illuminate our brows and conceal the top of our heads. I saw Mars constantly shifting his eyes from mine to Lucid’s head. We see the report they have given us of themselves. We ask them questions about their lives. We charm them into telling us their childhood, their family, their experiences with women.

We started with Mars.

We could see how his experiences with women were tied to his father being absent and his mother playing the drama queen. Lucid and I had seen this pattern so often that we had put together solid solutions for certain variables. We finally asked what he expected out of this little service to the community Lucid and I provide, and he, with all the frankness and openness in the world, confessed that he simply wanted to conquer the heart of his neighbor. A woman with silky, long hair that had awestruck him since the moment he laid eyes on her. He showed us a picture, we teased him and called him perv for taking a selfie with her in the background, totally oblivious she was being photographed.

“She’s beautiful.” Lucid nodded and smiled. “you better learn quick or Alabaster might dip his chicken finger in that sauce.” Lucid teased. Neptune and I laughed, but Mars seemed to take it a bit too seriously. He glanced at Alabaster out of the corner of his eyes. He looked like a modern version of the god of war.

“Relax.” I started. “if you want to seduce Miss Silky hair, you’ll have to loosen up a bit.” I extended my arms and rested my back against the booth.

“What does that have anything to do with conquering her.”

“First of all,” I started. “it’s not a war you’re trying to win.” I drew a confident mug on my face. “it’s a dance.”

“huh?” He raised his eyebrow.

“Yes,” I leaned forth. “a woman is a delicate creature, yet, she is the most lethal one you’ll ever encounter. However, just like every lethal creature, there are soft spots through which you can tame her.” I tilt my head and pull out a gold coin. I place it on the table to create a visual and with it I start telling my story. “The era of the survival of the fittest is gone. Dead. Obsolete. Brute strength might arouse a woman for a second, but knowing how to play the right keys, will make her sing a song to you forever.”

“Are we talking about oral sex?” he interrupted. “I’d like that.” He broke a smiled. It wasn't a joke.

“Remember the challenge you always talked about.” Lucid whispered in my ear. He tapped my shoulder got up and made his way to the bar. Half-way there, a girl jumped to touch his wabbling dildo. Lucid turned to her, made her work a bit for his attention. A few pulls of attention later, she’s locked in.

“That’s what peacocking does to you,” I said touching my glasses.

“I’m not wearing a damn dildo in my head.” Mars snarled. “She’ll want it more than me.”

We laughed. Mars breaks a smile as he realized that we got his joke. This one was a joke.

For the sake of the night, I decided best to teach Neptune and Alabaster what they were going to do tonight and had Mars hover over to hear what they said.

It was rewarding to see them succeed. Cringy to see them fail, but it was all just part of the process. We tell our disciples to break themselves into the nines and tens by doing seven and eights. Alabaster did what we told him while Mars and Neptune decided to go higher and shoot for eights and nines. They seemed comfortable while they followed the structure of the conversations we had laid out for them.

There’s something odd and magical about the structure. Something that brings women’s defense and resistance down. It’s the total opposite of how to bring a man’s resistance down. You can usually break a man by imposing your strength and status and power. With a woman, however, you must lower them by showing your ability to dance in their realm. The ability to speak the language of suggestions and metaphors.

Mars seemed more confident and lose as he kept going around the bar and starting conversations with ladies. Neptune had a slight swing on his walk, it didn’t look fake but neither did it look natural. It simply went along with his whole persona. It worked for him. He was breaking into groups and making friends as he went along.

He told us that he wanted to sleep with ten women by the end of the month before he jumped into his startup idea. An implanted dog tracker that would offer peace of mind to those lovely owners who see their pets as their kids. I nodded and offered an initial investment.

“I don’t have pets, but I see the potential market.” I extended my hand. He extended his and shook on it. I wasn’t kidding, I do want to invest in his product just like he had invested in mine.

As the night goes on, we see Mars and Neptune feeling more comfortable, more lose, and more capable. We observe attentively until their confidence reaches the zenith of its charm and now we intervene before it gets out of control. Lucid and I nodded to each other and smoothly picked Mars and Neptune out of their surging.

We explained to them why we did it and they agreed.

“It’s a real thing,” I assured them. “Think of it as a market bubble,” I look into Neptune’s eyes. “when it burst.” I made sound effects of an exploding bubble. “addiction sets in.” I took a deep breath as I clenched my jaw to the sound of my own words. Lucid explained the same to Mars and he understood.

Mars and Neptune nodded as they looked into their hands. They agreed that the stuff we were teaching them was powerful. Mismanagement could mean a life out of control. We created emotional anchors and imagery to paint in their heads what could happen if they didn’t manage it. Mars could hurt Silky hair and Neptune could bring down his startup before he even got started. They sheepishly nodded at the debriefing.

“I must admit.” Mars looked into my eyes. “I feel like I’ve never felt before. Talking to women had been one of the things I had been afraid the most in my life. Being in the military was easy compared to breaking the ice with a woman.” He chuckled, “but seeing how this works fills me with confidence. This might just work.” He nodded and shifted his eyes from Lucid then back at me. “Thank you, man.”

“It’s time to head out,” Lucid said as he winked at the passing waitress. “We want to build interest. We want to make them feel that without us, this place is dead and their lives empty.”

“Alright.” Neptune and Mars got to their feet without a second question.

“Aren’t we forgetting someone?” I noticed Alabaster was missing. I stand on my tippy toes so I’m a full 5’9” now. I scan the room and noticed someone savagely making out in a dark corner of the bar. I backhanded Lucid on his arm and pointed at Alabaster’s feat. Lucid pulled Mars and Neptune in. Their mouth hinged open.

“Get a goddamned room!” Lucid shouted. Alabaster broke out of his feat. He got the message. He looked at the girl in the eye and kissed her for the last time. She pulled him closer to her, Alabaster pulled away. Nice. She offered her SnapChat and Alabaster quickly scanned it. He then yanked the feeling away and left the girl wishing for more.

He came to us and we received him with a hall of honor pass.

“Good job!!” we cheered between clenched teeth. We stepped out of the bar, walked down the street, teased each other for the great night. We go to our departing point, talked a bit more of what happened in the night as the people in the street slowly faded out of the corner of our eyes. They were shapeless blobs just walking past as our focus directed itself into the events.

Mars and Neptune couldn’t believe it was that simple. I went on to congratulate them on a successful night. The conversations soon died down and we went on to text the girls we thought were best for tonight. We all did. We all went our separate ways and now I’m looking at a cheerful Mars, finally sleeping with the woman he always wanted.

I put the phone away, close my eyes and allow the sensation of pride to wash over me. It feels good, I feel proud of myself. This is one of the hardest things for a man to accomplish, and we had managed to make it easier for men.

Fifteen years ago, Lord Fashion opened the door to this underworld for the rest of the world to see. He went on to share the skills that had eluded men from gaining their second most primal instinct. Reproduction. Although he’s retired and happily married, Lord Fashion showed us the humanity behind sleeping with women. The humanity of being extremely open and telling a girl the truth from the get-go. Or at least a way to tell the truth from the get-go. Many of his teachings didn’t age well, but he provided a solid structure of what a successful conversation with a woman looks like. Successful because at the end of the night, those we decide to sleep with, are most likely to become long term friends. And those we don’t, are most likely to become long term acquaintances and important connections. As Neptune and I would know, friendship is currency.

I am… I am not going to tell you my age or my ethnicity or nationality or even my skin tone or accent. I am a mere shadow, a glimpse of what you want to become. A human being that went from failing in relationships and in many areas of his life to finding fulfillment through the acquisition of valuable social skills. If you’re in college while you’re reading this, let me tell you that there are people out there venturing into uncharted waters. By the time you get your degree, whatever you’ve learned would be obsolete. Those who ventured would have created new and more effective ways of making shit happen. If you know that the system is broken, but keep telling yourself that it isn’t, congrats, you have sold yourself a horrible lie. You want to hear a beautiful truth? This is the time for you to free yourself. Don’t get me wrong, education is gold. What I’m saying is, learn something you can apply and use to serve others. Look into career saturation. Look into yourself and ask, am I getting what I want? what I want, why do I want it?

The day has gone by as smoothly as a fulfilled life can go. A solid habit for health, a solid habit for learning, a solid habit for growth, a solid habit for social life, and a solid habit for survival and safety. That roughly translates to gym, reading, talking to successful people, talking to strangers, eating healthy, and staying at home. Being at home is not so bad. Except when you’re forced to do so because of a pandemic, like it was in 2020.

What a damn crazy year. I can picture history teachers making their students remember the events of twenty-twenty and I can see the creative kid making a poem of how Kobe and Boseman left a trail of glory, and how LeBron went on to write history for himself, and write about how legends do die. RIP Diego Armando Maraona. What's most, how tyranny fell at the feet of democracy and how love overcame all things. Twenty-twenty was a crazy ass novel.

The night comes and I give Psyche—the name I give my every conquest—a call. She picks up and we have a brief conversation of how our day went. We come to the debriefing part of the conversation, right before it gets pushy and awkward. I know she wants to hear it and by me saying it she will feel lifted and less pressured.

“Listen, Psyche, we had a lot of fun last night. It will be great if it happens again, but let’s leave it to destiny to bring us together. If we meet again, we’ll take it from there.” I smile the whole time I say this. I can feel her smiling on the other end.

“That sounds good.” She says celebrating that our relationship wasn’t going to be a strenuous one. “bye, Eros.” She says with a slight giggle.

“Bye, Psyche.” I hang up the phone. It’s seven-thirty, almost time for my writing ritual and almost time to go take a night stroll at Klyde Warren Park. The museum is closed but there’re walking masterpieces wandering around, free and careless, waiting for a mysterious man to make their fantasies a reality. Right in front of the museum is where you can play the adventurous man who will show the world to the dreamy girl who has spent most of her life with her nose within a book, or her ear to the shell of romantic music. It’s here where you become the adventurous hero. And I have the perfect role for that.

I drive my ass down the somewhat fluent street of downtown Dallas. Compared to other cities I’ve been in, I have to admit, Dallas is by far the cleanest. That says a lot about the others. As soon as I step out of my Tesla, I talk and make friend of a total stranger. A college student, about 5’8”, stressed out of his mind and seemingly in a hurry. I stop him for directions as soon as I saw him, he seems confused and I use his confusion to lure myself into his mind. I introduce myself and he says his name is Wan, like the first Avatar—only cool men get this reference. We walk around the park shoulder to shoulder as if we had been best friends for a long time. I copy his demeanors and mirror him as smoothly as I can. He let me know that he is looking for some friends to work on a project with. I smile and ask him what they are going to work on. He says an art project about a video game they had pitched at SMU. The project is ballsy, but I tell him they can pull it off.

“How do you know?” he asks me.

“cus.” I pause. “I can see it in your eyes. You really care about this project. You see the bigger purpose behind it.” He nods and smiles. Artists are exotic creatures.

We find his group and my background prayer is answered. They are a bunch of nerdy, make-up-less, untidy girls sitting around a bunch of wannabe boyfriends. This type of women are not the boyfriend type. They’re the adventure type. They just want the man to bring it out of them. I look at my new friend Wan and follow his gaze. His girl was definitely Turtle-neck, with curly frizzy hair and clear non-prescription glasses. She is gorgeous, but I don’t show it. Not even when I get closer and realize she has freckles. My heart somersaulted. What a killer combination.

I start to talk to the group as if they were old friends. I quickly find something in common and squeeze the juice out of it. The girls throw me shit tests left and right, but I ignore most of them and some of them I answer them the only way they could be answered. Unexpectedly.

I make friends of the guys—Rio and Arbor—really cool and talented dudes, but just like Mars and Neptune, they are lacking that confidence that Lucid and I worked so hard to emanate just by breaking a slight smirk.

I keep asking them questions and making them talk. (Hint: people’s favorite subject is themselves.) Rio was majoring in videogame design with an emphasis on coding, Arbor with an emphasis on art, and Wan with an emphasis on business. I was fascinated to find out how much work and different fields come together to make a videogame. I keep showing enthusiasm and curiosity as the conversation keeps going, slowly but surely, I feel them staring at me. The Nymph, the Muse, and the Goddess, my new Psyche.

I can feel the burning sensation on my temples. But I ignore them. I give them slight attention every time they fake their laughter—a clear sign of interest—if someone laughs at your unfunny jokes, congrats, half the dance is has been done well.

Just to clarify, a Nymph is a woman who wants sex. You can see it in the way she plays with her hair, leans towards you, touches you. A Muse is an intellectual who wants you to recognize her by her brains and not her beauty. The Goddess is a combination of both. They’re usually elusive and only let themselves be seen by the most devoted of worshipers. Freckles is the Goddess, my new Psyche, and I am about to become her most devoted worshiper.

What about Wan? He is drooling over her, trying to get her attention in the most rejected way possible. Bragging about himself. I look at my watch and announce it’s time to leave. I shake hands with Rio, Arbor, Wan, the Muse, the Nymph, and lastly the Goddess, purposefully holding eye contact with her a split second longer than with the rest. I crunch the piece of paper she puts in my hand and with a sleight of hand put it in my pocket. I re-accommodate my sunglasses as I slowly stroll out of the group. I keep beaming and greeting everyone who comes my way. People are my drug of choice. It can be a good addiction. Especially when you grow up as the lonely, weird kid nobody wants to be friends with.

erotic
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