It was one o’clock Sunday morning, and the six tipsy Trixies giggling in a Lincoln Park pizza joint really, really wanted to get into Jason’s pants. Sort of. They were on a bachelorette party scavenger hunt, and this stolid guy who’d come over to hit on them seemed like their best bet. “Give us your goddamn underwear!” one screeched. “When, if ever, have you had six hot girls ask for your underwear?” He protested, but he didn’t walk away–after all, he’d flown in from Florida and paid $1,495 to get into situations just like this.
The guys fell silent. Finally someone piped up: “That chick’s got some nice titties and they’re poking out.”
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Public awareness of the so-called seduction community–guys who give other guys tips on picking up women–took an uptick this year with the publication of The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists. Rock critic Neil Strauss reinvented himself as a master seducer named Style, spending two years luring LA club girls into bed with rote pickup routines and making observations such as “Every woman I met seemed disposable and replaceable.” Strauss and the other pickup artists in The Game make liberal use of terms Louis and Copeland avoid, such as HB (“hot babe”) and bitch shield (the frosty demeanor some women adopt to head off unwanted attention).
Shy as Jack was, Louis said, he was doing better than he had at the first seminar of theirs he’d attended a year ago: “You should have seen him when I first started working with him.” He conceded that bars weren’t Jack’s natural environment, and that he’d do better in a bookstore.
It was time to get their energy up. Louis turned up the music on the suite’s stereo and everyone stood in a circle, shouting to each other:
Saturday’s daytime approach site was Bloomingdale’s. Almost at once Jack went up to a young, hip-looking woman. After a few minutes he went on to another woman a few feet away. A few minutes later he approached a third. “Look at this, guys!” Louis said. “Holy shit. He’s on a fucking roll, man.”
