The notion that a guy who looked like that could be a pick up artist – let alone a great one
- intrigued me. I made the decision right then and there I was going to learn from him.
When Style arrived, he didn’t look the same way he did in his picture. He was still short,
skinny, and with a big nose, but he wore a gaudy wig with dreadlocks. He looked almost
as odd as Mystery.
When it came time to split up into groups to go out into the field, I made sure I went with
Style.
We made our way down to an Irish pub called Dublins on the strip. Once in there, the
students split up to start approaching women. I hung back and watched Style. He was
very different in his methods than Mystery. Where Mystery was larger than life, Style
was subtle. When he approached a girl, her defenses didn’t go up. She always seemed to
welcome him.
Finally, I went up to him.
“Hey, Style,” I said.
Style looked at me. “Yeah man, what’s up?”
“Um,” I stumbled nervous. “I’m having a real hard time here.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’m just freaking out is all. Nervous. I want to approach some girls, but I keep
chickening out.”
Style nodded for a moment, stroking a wisp of a goatee on his chin.
“I see,” he said. “Okay, come with me.”
He started walking out of the club. I followed.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“This place is too loud, we’re going someplace a bit more chill,” he said.
We walked across the street to a hotel called the Chateau Marmont. When we got to the
lounge, it was a much more chill place indeed. The music was softer, you could actually
hear yourself talk. Groups of people milled around having cocktails.
Even though it was more chill, I was still really intimidated.
“Okay,” said Style. “See that group over there?”
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