The Chaperone

I saw this girl from the back as I was coming into the Tube: curly voluminous hair, large hips. It must be my Mediterranean roots: these two criteria always catch my attention. She was truly callipygian. If on top of that she had beautiful facial features then she wouldn’t have been for real. It was the end of the day. I was tired, just the kind of moment when I would think I hope I will not meet any hot girl as I know I will feel rubbish talking to her. As I was about to see her face, part of me was looking for a lazy excuse to go back home. I bet she won’t be that great anyway. Well I was wrong. I definitely had no excuse to avoid talking to her: she was beautiful with thin Eastern-African features. By the way I keep repeating it: I love London and its diversity. I have been making this comment to myself almost daily for years now. No city to the best of my humble knowledge, not even New York, can compete.

The carriage was busy. She was wearing headphones, sitting between other people. I felt the pressure. Alright let’s cut the pear in half, let’s find the perfect compromise between my willing to approach and my laziness. Laziness? Euphemism not to say fear. If she goes out at my station, I go talk to her. Bingo, we arrived at my station and guess who went out? No choice any more buddy, allez hop, go, get in the car Simone [this is a literal translation of a popular French expression meaning "let’s get things started"].

I opened her with a compliment on the way out of the station, she looked surprised at first but smiled back. I correctly guessed the country she was from in East Africa. My top skills of country guesser seemed to impress her. To be honest it wasn’t difficult: her beautiful facial features were typical of this country. Initially she removed one piece of her headset, then removed the second one and asked me where I was from. Good sign. She told me a bit about herself: I had no reaction when she said -what a surprise- that she was a model. Then she tested me a bit, which is perfectly normal considering she was used to filtering the hordes of guys hitting on her. I guess a lot of them must be very indirect and play the provider card, which I would say is a mistake. She told me with a laugh that I was a bit crazy to stop her like I did. Another good sign: in my experience “crazy” is always an encouraging adjective, much better than “nice” or “lovely”.

She suggested to swap Facebook. I knew there was attraction but I was not sure enough trust had been built so I considered it was a 50/50 chance of flake or date. Her Facebook profile, with no surprise, was full of modelling pictures. I looked at it for two minutes and stopped. No need to look at her on a computer or worst, being just another Facebook friend liking or commenting her pictures.

She responded quickly to my first message, and after I made a date request she said OK but asked if she could come with her cousin as a chaperone… what a weird idea. I replied “ok, you can also come with your hairdresser or make-up artist if you want…”. At this point a daygamer by the book who want to optimise everything would say it was a bad idea to agree because of the loss of frame. Yes, probably. But the fact was: I was curious to go through the experience of this unusual date and see how I could handle it, being well aware I had little chance to succeed. I was ready to lose and learn. I like daygame for the quality and variety of girls I can meet, and also for the various stories that come with it: some of them finish with sex which is great and some of them don’t -most of them let’s be honest- but they are still interesting experiences nevertheless. Would I lose the girl? Yes probably. Did I accept because I didn’t want to miss the chance to date a hot model? Not really since I had dated a few models already so I did not care that much. Call me arrogant, I am French at the end of the day.

We switched from fb to text messages and agreed on a date.

I met her at Piccadilly Circus. Elegant, high heels, the right make-up. She arrived at the date even more attractive than when I first met her. I took her to Hotel W which is clearly too provider, I avoid this place now, at least for a date. Her cousin was still at work which was a good thing.

The date went well, with teasing, challenging, some light kino as I made sure we would sit on a comfortable sofa next to each other.

And then came her cousin. I did not handle it the right way: I got along well with the cousin but I started to play the entertainer for both of them, clearly that was not smart. We lost the magic of the one on one, what a sabotage. At least I could have used it to my advantage, to do a bit of push. But I was not smart enough and was just entertaining. I was also a bit provider as I paid another round of expensive cocktails in a posh place. I needed a while to realise this was not leading anywhere, there was no progression with her and I did not want to make the small talk all night to her cousin.

We left the bar. I tried at least to finish on a better note as I took her hand, gave strong eye contact, slowly told her “I’ll text you later” and kissed her on one cheek with a move that looked like I was going to give her a French kiss. That was clearly not a tentative to kiss her as it would not have been calibrated at that moment. And imagine what would have been the face of her poor chaperone cousin as she was holding the candle. But it was still a better move than just giving two friendly kisses on the cheek or the good old hug Brits love so much.

The next days we texted but I struggled to get a second date, and it appeared I had competition: her church going habit. Yes, I know what you think Dear reader, she was just not that into me, I messed up, otherwise she would have been keener for a second date, yes of course I messed up, I told you I would.

Anyway, I lost patience and teased her by text about this church addiction, saying she would deserve the award of this year’s Miss Wisest or even Miss Boring. She replied very simply and way more smartly than me: “I take this award with honour, I know I can be boring that’s OK.” This is typical from a girl who knows her value and keeps the frame, this is the reverse of qualifying herself.

Well done to her, another useful lesson for me. And then I did another stupid text game, as if I did not embarrass myself enough. To be honest, I very much enjoy writing these old stories and laughing about myself. Guess what I did: a pathetic “royal flush” (google it, I think Tom Torero explained what it means, and clearly I did not use it at the right time, silly me). Look at this amazing push text I sent her: “Alright let’s give up, I start to find this whole process quite boring, I lost the attraction.” How smart is that, you are impressed aren’t you? Would she beg me for a second date after such a great text? You saw it coming, she replied: “No problem, I am glad you got the point.”

And yet another lesson in my face, I guess I deserved it.

I think the point is quite clear here. It was a textbook case, in which I played the last of class who failed literally at the exam. My text didn’t do any push, it was just needy, as opposed to her messages where she was not qualifying at all. She was even doing a bit of humour about the “Miss Boring Award” showing self-confidence.

At this point an easy thing to do would be to see her as a little princess who wasted my time. I think that is the opposite: respect, young lady. Good lessons you gave me here. I’ll try to remember and improve.

A few months later, I walked past her cousin who was waiting in front of a restaurant. She saw me, recognized me and said hi. Out of politeness I stopped for a few seconds to say hi and do the strict minimum of small talk. And guess who arrived to meet her lovely cousin? Wow she is still so sexy. But I played it non-reactive, a bit indifferent and it was more her doing the talking and holding me in front of this restaurant. We bantered a bit and at some point we talked about meeting over a drink again. I told her I deleted her number while cleaning up my contacts -I don’t like holding a full list of contacts in my phone when there is no point. Funny enough I think for the first time this kind of push had some effect. I had not done it intentionally. She reacted, a bit offended.

“If you did not keep my phone, then we should not meet again.”

“That’s alright, and why would I have kept your number anyway?”

By the end of this push-pull game she gave me her number for the second time and we agreed to meet again.

A few days later I met her and took her to… Joe and the Juice. I downgraded the venue. Sorry no free cocktails at Hotel W this time, at best a healthy smoothie, it will be good for your model body and skin my dear.

And this is when she told me that… her cousin was coming. Oh come on! Not this cousin again! At this point I was torn between leaving straight away and the curiosity of finding out what would happen. The situation was the same as before but could be handled in a different way. Her cousin arrived, I got her a smoothie -I was playing the nice puppy again, I know, I did not totally learn my lesson. We started talking, I tried to tease but it was so-so. After a few minutes I found myself talking to the cousin, not really a fun conversation, while the girl I was supposed to have a date with was sending messages on her phone.

This time I just said goodbye and left.

No need to be frustrated, leaving is just fine. As I was leaving I laughed about the whole thing. If daygame was not putting you in those situations, it wouldn’t be funny.

It turned out this girl lived in the same part of London as I did. I bumped into her a few times, just a quick chat and no flirt. At this point I had genuinely lost interest.

But once something surprised me: I was walking and I saw her and her cousin coming in a delicatessen, with a local homeless old man who had a walking stick. They wanted to treat him with a free meal. I don’t want to sound too white knight or too nice but I think it is never good to conclude that a girl is a time-waster, a little princess or anything else derogatory just because she rejected you. It tells more about how frustrated you are than about the girl herself. It was hard to imagine these two girls could be altruistic and take some time to give warmth to someone vulnerable. But indeed they did, which could be proof that depending on the way we behave with them, girls can show totally different characters. I should not flog myself too much but I might not have handled the situation in a way that made them express the best of themselves.

The last time I saw this girl I was in the Tube. As I was standing on a crowded platform, one morning when no-one around looked particularly joyful, I recognized her. She still looked beautiful on the wall, on this advertising poster for a famous cosmetic brand. Little disappointment though: the cousin was not on the picture.

I smiled. I did not manage to seduce her, but it was a nice story anyway.