Does game really matter? I’ve seen it debated, most recently in the comments section of my post on looking for women’s interest. Heck, even I’ve contradicted myself — on one hand I talk about how technique is overrated and often irrelevant, and yet, um, have you noticed the name of this blog?
My buddy Tre Tre represented my thoughts perfectly in those comments. And I’m turning to him yet again, because he had a jaw-dropping experience over the weekend that demonstrates our point further. Game doesn’t matter in my life anymore, or in his. But it does matter when you’re repeating the same social mistakes. Even when you’re famous and rich.
I can’t help but feel a little “Revenge of the Nerds” vindication from this, but I’m not repeating this story to make fun of the guy involved. And I am not TMZ — I will name no names here. I’m into teaching lessons, and in this case, Tre Tre is the teacher. He spent 10 minutes helping a famous athlete understand why he failed to get a beautiful woman’s phone number — a number Tre Tre had succeeded in getting.
It all went down at a bar in the Marina, and if you’ve read my blog you know I consider that neighborhood a cesspool of frat-boy superficiality. Tre Tre was there for a birthday party — the woman of honor was the sister of his friend’s girlfriend, and he’d met her before but didn’t know her well. He assures me that she’s so smoking hot, she could power a small city. In addition, she’s down to earth and a woman of substance.
Jocks rule the Marina, and they pick up many a woman there. So it’s no surprise that two well-known pro athletes were prowling this bar, and when one of them spotted the birthday girl, he zoomed in on her like Google Earth.
The athlete did what has probably worked on other women countless times — he offered to take her away from her group and buy her a drink. When you’re tall, famous and making millions of dollars a year, that’s often all it takes, especially in a place like the Marina.
But the birthday girl politely refused — she was with friends and family, including her parents, and she wanted to spend her time with them. I should point out that she doesn’t follow sports and had no idea who this athlete was. When her group told her who he was, she didn’t care.
There were other girls in the bar showing this athlete some interest, but he was undeterred. He approached the birthday girl’s table and tried forcing his way next to her. One of two guys at the table (Tre Tre being the other) confronted the athlete and told him that she meant what she said — she wanted to spend her time with her party. But as long as she didn’t complain, he could sit with them.
The birthday girl didn’t make a fuss, and the athlete offered to buy a round of drinks for the entire table (about half accepted). He then tried having a one-way conversation with her that wasn’t going anywhere, and the others in the party — some of whom were his fans and female — were getting annoyed.
At one point the athlete told the birthday girl that it seemed the group didn’t didn’t like him; her response was that they didn’t even have a thought in their mind about him, but they cared about her and cared if she was having fun.
After desperately hanging around her some more, the athlete made a futile attempt to close the deal by making this grand romantic gesture: “Are you DTF?” If you don’t know what that means, you clearly haven’t watched “Jersey Shore.” Here’s a definition. I remind you, her dad was right there.
I’d like to say the birthday girl threw her drink in his face. But instead she just said, “No thanks.” And the athlete finally walked away. And by walked away, I mean getting up from the booth, walking over the table and into the aisle. Not a graceful way of handling “no.”
Later, Tre Tre got into conversation with the girl, and they flirted for about 15 minutes. She told him she heard he had broken up with his girlfriend, and he confirmed that. He asked for her number, and he got it.
When that was done and Tre Tre was walking through the crowd, he got a tap on the shoulder. He turned around and looked up, and returning his gaze was none other than the athlete.
Humbled by his trainwreck of a pickup attempt, the athlete asked Tre Tre — who generously stands at 5-foot-9 — how he was able to get that woman’s number (of course it helped that he was in her party). When Tre Tre got the athlete’s permission to be frank, he obliged, and they went down the list:
- He didn’t listen to her. The athlete tried strong-arming the girl away from her party even after she told him why she was there.
- He didn’t take a genuine interest in her and it was obvious he saw her only as a conquest.
- He tried using his status to impress the girl rather than connect with her.
- He either insulted or ignored her friends and family to the point that they hated him.
- And oh yeah, he made that DTF remark.
Maybe the athlete saw his own mortality, and he knew there would come a time when fame or money alone wouldn’t be enough to attract a high-quality woman. But I hope he learned from the experience. I’ll be happy to coach him in exchange for some front-row seats.