Day 62/360: “I Know All Your Tricks. I am Brad’s Ex.”

11:00 a.m.: Wake up and hit snooze. Repeat every nine minutes until 12:30 p.m.
12:30 p.m.: Finally get lazy ass out of bed. Sleepbrush my teeth. (Sleepwalk, sleepbrush… get it? Nevermind.)
12:50 p.m.: Drive to 1 p.m. appointment with stylist. (Twenty minutes to brush my teeth!)
1:05 p.m. Arrive at stylist. Stylist razors my hair so it spikes up all over and dyes patches of it hot pink. I now look more like Harley Quinn than Joker.
5:00 p.m. I leave. (Four hours to get my hair did!)

I’m definitely getting more looks with my new hair but I’m uncomfortable because I’m not used to it. I have silly thoughts, such as: maybe it’s too much, maybe it’s too bright, people think I’m a freak. Don’t worry, I always adapt.

I make a CVS run for toilet paper and new conditioner. (My old conditioner has blue dye in it — not very good for preserving hot pink.) My ex recommends a $26 color-preserving condition. Ah, the price of vanity.

I meet up with Drew for sushi buffet. The food isn’t bad, but I am greedy and take too much food. Drew chastises me for wasting food when there are children starving in Indiana. Good, now there’s food leftover for them to eat.

I drop Drew off and walk around the neighborhood. I have big-street-crowd anxiety and don’t approach anything. Also I had new-pink-hair anxiety. I go home and drive to the bar area.

I pass lots of girls on the street without talking to any of them. I go into a bar, walk all the way to the back, and on my way back I see two girls by themselves at the bar.

I talk to the one not ordering a drink. Horse girl. Her friend interrupts midway to get her drink order. No matter, I continue when she’s done. She likes it, we hug. I compliment the friend’s pink hair. She compliments mine. The girls leave. I leave.

I go to the bar where I opened a girl who didn’t fuck Asians. I see two girls with their backs to two guys. One girl’s ordering a drink. Horse girl, smart tests, smart/hot/rich. She loves it. Her friend is done buying their drinks. I tease the girls for being Valley girls. The friend plays the stereotype and I hug her, saying she’s a real Valley girl. The two guys interrupt and say, “It was nice meeting you,” and leave. We chat some more. Things seem to be going well when the girls say they are done and leave me. Strange.

I’m getting warmed up.

I chat with a Greek guy and an Italian guy about LA, just to socialize. I get bored and hop to another bar.

I go in, not much. On my way out I decide to talk to three girls at the corner of the bar. I ask the girl in the middle if she likes horses. The girl to my right immediately asks, “Are you Brad P.’s student?” Whoa, this is really specific! I admit to it. “I know all your tricks. I am Brad’s ex.” She asks me if Brad gave me a makeover. I said no. She compliments me on my look and my body language. She said my hair’s similar to Brad’s. She asks me to demo horse girl, but I tell her I don’t like being put on the spot, though I actually didn’t want to be her dancing monkey. We talk about openers. She likes the Carson Daly opener. I talk about how girls nowadays don’t even know who Carson Daly is and they agree that he’s a has-been. I tell them I’m conflicted: I want to take their numbers and invite them to our weekly BBQ, but I fear I would be asking for it. We chat some more and I tell them I’m leaving to hit on more girls. She gives her regards to Brad.

I go into a college bar. A girl says my hair is fantastic. I play with hers and say hers is fantastic as well. Sex last week. She cracks up, says I look like I was struck by lightning (which I initially took as an insult, then I realized it was the hair), kisses me on the cheek, and leaves.

I go back to a previous bar. Two girls and two guys on the dance floor. Horse girl, smart tests, smart/hot/rich, 8 girlfriends. She becomes my girlfriend #7. Her friend is interested in my piercing and my ring. I try to compliment her necklace but it came out weak because there wasn’t much for me to compliment. I don’t touch my girl as much and we all get bored. I take her palm but I don’t read it. I start the cat routine but I don’t finish it. Weak. As a last ditch effort I try to get her number, saying I have to leave. She tells me she’s here often and we’ll see each other.

At the front of the bar is a hot blonde by herself. Sex last week, she cracks up. She says, “If it were me you’d never forget it.” Her friend comes out of nowhere and hugs her, steps in between us, and blows me out. I stand behind them, trying to engage the friend but she ignores me. Eventually the blonde turns around after getting her drink, but I don’t say anything and leave.

I try to open at least three separate groups of girls with horse girl. Each time they walk around me. I don’t use the Rodman technique for any of them. In response to “Do you like horses?”, one girl says, “Thanks!” Good. She took it as a compliment that I approached her. As she should have.

I am sick of girls walking around me. I see two girls waiting for their car. Horse girl, smart tests, smart/hot/rich. They find it hilarious but their car arrives so they leave.

It’s almost last call. I’m sick of walking the streets, so I drive to another college frat bar. Two girls at the bar, one’s getting a drink. I horse girl the other one. She forgives me and hugs me. The other girl joins. I get the first girl’s name but she leaves immediately. I get the second girl’s name and find out they are sisters. Smart tests, smart/hot/rich. Her sister beckons to her so she leaves.

The lights go on. I see two guys and two girls, but they don’t look like they came together. One guy’s talking to one girl, the other guy’s just standing around. I talk to the free girl. Horse girl, Brad Pitt, smart tests, smart/hot/rich. Her attraction is high so I go for the number. I realize I’m ignoring the other girl (they just met the guys) so I befriend her. The other guy swoops in on my girl. We chat a little, but the bar is kicking everyone out. On the way out I befriend the occupied girl’s guy. He introduces himself as Jake P. I’m startled — did he just identify my style of game? I tease him about it, asking if he always introduces with his last initial. The group leaves. My girl left with the other guy. I didn’t try to do anything because it seemed impossible, with the two guys there.

I drive back but I’m in state. I walk back to the rocker clubs and see what scraps are left. There are none.

Tonight was another solo night that started slow but ended good. I’m getting more comfortable going by myself but it takes time to warm up.