I’m Rape Protection
Atleast that’s what I told SocialWorker lastnight after asking her if she was hitting on my friend.
We were out and ran a few good sets. Went to another club to see DJ Jazzy Jeff’s set, it was pretty sick. I don’t know what it was but the vibe of the club was really good. It just felt smooth and relaxed and yet very high energy. Interesting how a good DJ can light the room up and start the party where as a bad DJ makes people raise their eyebrows.
I’ve just recently become really curious about the dynamics of being a DJ. Not too long ago I looked at them as just someone who would play the music in a way that it flows, but it’s so much more than that. Being a DJ means you need to understand social dynamics so intently. You have to pay attention to what the crowd is enjoying and what they don’t like and then play to those needs. A DJ has to be fluid and smooth and yet energetic to keep the crowd going by example. It’s an art form not so different from pickup arts. That being said I can see why DJ’s get the hottest groupies.
We left the club to go back to our regular spot in search of more targets. It was getting around closing time and we needed to work fast if we wanted to be able to bounce a set or two to the limo.
We get back to our regular spot with about an hour or so of solid time before the place starts really kicking people out. We run a couple decent sets and start building rapport with some girls.Â
I see my wing talking to this one girl by herself so I roll up in usual fashion and ask her if she’s hitting on my friend.  She replies yes and I kindly inform her that she better not try any shit because I’m his rape protection. This makes her laugh. The conversation runs pretty normally and I’m escalating kino. I make her take my arm to promenade her to the front of the club to get ready for the bounce.
SocialWorker: “So how old are you?
Orleans: “Guess.”
SocialWorker: “Um I dunno. 24?”
Orleans: “Hah I love you, no I’m not 24.”
SocialWorker: “Oh my god are you in your 40’s!?”
Orleans: “HAH!! No girl I’m 20.”
At this moment SocialWorker drops my arm, stops dead in her tracks and looks at me with sad eyes and says “I’m so old.” This girl is 22, not old at all. I talk to her a bit more to remind her of this and meet her friends. Orchestrate the bounce to the limo. Run decently solid game.
SocialWorker and her friends are all from Labrador which is in the Maritimes. This equates to a sick accent that I can’t stop listening to. For the majority of the limo ride I’d just sit back with my arm around SocialWorker and listen to these girls yammer on about whatever they were talking about in their newfie accent. Loved it.
Ended up getting home at about 5:20AM and had to leave the house at 6:40AM for school. Gotta love the gauntlet. I’m back at it again tonight but I have a nice post for you tomorrow.
Update: GoldDigger sent/showed me some nudies. This girl is a piece of work. I’ve straight up called her a gold digger and compared her to infomercials.
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