I'm Having More Fun Than You by Aaron Karo Read Free Book Online

out and hope she came over and touched it. But just go talk to her? That’s a foolproof plan! Is that how you two met? Who knew it was that easy? Thank God I have you and your girlfriend here to show me how the world works. Now stop holding hands and drinking chardonnay, and get the fuck out of my face so I can continue stalking this chick from a distance!
    THE COMPETITION
     
    A cute girl once asked me what I thought about a guy across the bar. I told her I thought he was a douchebag. She asked why. I said because any guy besides me whom a girl is interested in is a douchebag. You see, guys generally don’t like other guys who are not our friends. But we definitely don’t like other single guys who are our competition. It is a well-known fact that women dress to the nines often just to look good in front of other women. Guys compare themselves to other guys as well. Except Brad Pitt could walk in the door and we’d still mutter under our breath, “Douche.”
    There are many varieties of douchebag, none of whom recognize their fatal flaws. Listen, guys, wearing only a V-neck undershirt to a bar is just not acceptable. Neither is sporting a blazer over said undershirt, unless you’re going for the “just went to the dry cleaners but only half my order was ready” look. Also, if you’re about to go out but can’t remember if you put cologne on, don’t give yourself a precautionary spritz. Too much is worse than none. Your cologne should not linger in the elevator any longer than you do. Oh, and if you’re actually using water from the sink in the bar bathroom to restyle your hair, you should have never even bothered going out in the first place.
    ----
    GLOSSARY
     
    THE BAD BASKETBALL GAME THEORY
     
    My old roommate Brian conceived the argument that bad basketball games are a great place to pick up chicks. His thinking is that when two bad teams are playing, dads who have season tickets give their seats away, not to their sons, who presumably know the game will suck, but rather to their hot daughters. Ipso facto, bad basketball games are often filled with hot chicks.
----
     
    One arena where I’m admittedly deficient when compared to other guys is performing in “nontraditional” situations. Friday and Saturday night is business time, and I dress the part. But even though I’m aware that there are plenty of opportunities to meet women during the week, like on the subway or in the grocery store, my civilian attire is totally lacking. I hate guys who wear nice clothes on Sunday afternoon even if they’re not going anywhere. When I look around, dudes are wearing dress shoes, khakis, and polo shirts. Why? It’s Sunday. Afternoon. I’m not even wearing socks, let alone something with a collar. But the fact is, they are prepared for chance encounters. Generally speaking, I know I’m not suited to kick game to a beautiful woman when I walk into my apartment building and the doorman mistakes me for a deliveryman.
    Shortly after I moved to LA, I had a meeting at MTV’s offices in Santa Monica. In the lobby with me were thirty of the hottest fucking chicks I’ve ever seen, all waiting for an audition. Tens as far as the eye could see—and no male competition in sight. After I stopped my hands from shaking, I called my buddies in New York to apprise them of the situation. They urged me to hit on everything that moved, but before I could gather up the nerve, I got called into my meeting. By the time I got out, the girls were gone. In a way, I’m glad—it would’ve been a Duck Hunt anyway.
    GAME ON
     
    When we’re taking the elevator down to the lobby after getting ready to go out for the night, I’m always amazed at how chivalrous my friends and I are. We’re holding the door for girls, we’re making sure they all get out first, we’re generally being polite and friendly. Then we get to the bar and immediately lose all sense of tact and discretion as we vainly make passes at any chick above a six. I really