May 21, 2012
Without you being creepy. Them noticing you because you are creepy doesn’t count.
I was walking through the V&A Waterfront the other day, when I realised that a number of reasonably attractive women were looking at me with great longing in their eyes.
This intrigued me somewhat, as I certainly wasn’t looking my best. In fact, I was having a pretty shitty hair day, hadn’t showered for 36 hours, and I had a pimple on my face so large, it actually had a name (Cedric), its own personality independent to my own, and was even hoping on going out on a date with someone that night – albeit on the slim chance that it would meet a Cape Town woman open-minded enough to go out on a date with a large pimple attached to a slender, wiry man who was having a pretty shitty hair day and who hadn’t showered for 36 hours.
So not only was the pimple so large it had its own name and its own personality independent to my own, it was also blessed with the gift of eternal optimism.
Anyway, so there I was, wondering if women suddenly found me irresistible, or whether I was just walking around with my “junk” out again – as I mistakenly did twice back in 2007 – when I remembered that I was carrying a large pack of nappies. (Long story, but they weren’t really mine)
Women were obviously under the impression that I was a father, and I could literally see them mentally going “Awwww”, the way you do when a puppy or kitten comes to snuggle up against you whilst you are sitting near the fireplace, desperately trying to read Shantaram, because EVERYONE says it’s a great book, but you are finding it utterly, utterly boring and so are easily distracted by reasonably cute house pets.
So yeah, if you are the type of guy who looks to pick up women at busy shopping malls, get yourself a large pack of disposable nappies (they are about R80) and just walk around in the line of sight of young, slightly broody women. If it works for you, and you somehow end up getting to rub yourself up against their thighs, please let me know, so that I may live my life vicariously through you.
Oakes signing off.
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