Passover sarging with Lovedrop Part I — End Game (Post 20)

I open my eyes at 6 p.m. to Nirvana playing from my laptop. The room was lit up from the sun shining in from the windows behind me and on either side of my bed. The projector was still playing Milkdrop, which is a Winamp plug-in that I highly recommend. I looked at the clock and couldn’t believe how late it was, but this is a common thing in the life of a pickup artist. The lifestyle sucks you in, and you develop a craving for the nightlife, and for multiple women.Suddenly I realized that it’s Passover, and I promised my parents I would be over their house to celebrate. I even invited Lovedrop, who was still sleeping in his room. You can’t really blame either of us; we only went to bed around noon. I walked to the bathroom to take care of the triple s’s (shit, shower, shave).When I came back into my bedroom, my phone was beeping with several new messages. A couple of my girls and my mom and all wanted me to come see them. My mom is most important, of course, especially on a holiday. I called her and let her know that I should be there by 8 p.m. I could tell she was a bit disappointed because she had guests over, and I did initially tell her we would be there at 7:30. Israeli woman are very punctual. After all they all go to the army and are trained that way.

I walked upstairs and knocked on Lovedrop’s door. I heard some shuffling.

“Hey Lovedrop let’s go,” I yelled. “Come on, you don’t want to be late to your first Passover dinner.”

“Ok, ok,” he mumbled.

I kept knocking.

“I’m up, I’m up,” he finally said.

I walked into the kitchen and made a protein shake, then back downstairs to my room to get dressed. I still felt extremely tired, so I swallowed a couple of energy pills and threw something on, nothing exciting. I didn’t even put gel in my hair. I looked like I had pretty much just woken up, and didn’t feel that great. You know how it is when you’re tired you don’t feel like doing anything. But I had to go to Passover dinner, it was a must.

Lovedrop comes downstairs and into my room. I’m lying down on the bed reading my emails.

“Are you ready, bro?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess, let’s go,” I replied.

I jumped up, grabbed the keys to my Jag and walked out of the house toward the car. As we drove, we discussed the previous night and what new things we had learned. This was right when I came up with my own kiss close, and I was actually very proud and excited. Lovedrop kept telling me that I would still have to find an accurate way to teach this new routine.

We arrived at my parent’s house around 8:15 p.m. As we got out of the car, I could already smell the aroma of food in the air. My mom goes nuts whenever she has guests, it doesn’t even have to be a holiday. We ate dinner and skipped most of the Haggadah, a Jewish text that’s traditionally read at Passover, since it was already way past 7:30 p.m.

We were finished with dinner after about six courses, and Lovedrop asked me if there were any places to go out around here. I told him that The Hard Rock Hotel and Casino is right around the corner, and we decided to check it out.

Then I looked in my phone and checked to see if  there had been any women that I had sarged there. I found a couple: Sunny and Jill. I called Jill, who I had previously F-Closed, and I figured there was a good chance I could fuck her again tonight. I called her, but she didn’t answer. I leave a message that went something like: “Hey Chica, you won’t believe it. I am actually back from Vegas, and I’m right near the place where we first met. I would love it if you hung out with me and some of my friends tonight at the Hard Rock, so get your butt over here. I’ll be here for a little while. Call me and let me know.”

Then I called Sunny, a girl I sarged a while ago but didn’t really keep in touch with. I think I had trouble getting her out because she either didn’t have a car or valid license messed up. I don’t remember exactly, and why should I? All of the girls I sarge fade in my mind and become just another target on a dart board. I know it sounds harsh, but the pickup artist in me grows and becomes more powerful with each passing lay. It gets stronger after each target it consumes.

Part II to follow on Friday, with the rest of the night, including a description of one of my kiss-close routines.