On a college campus much like the one you once walked, is a man that is oft talked about, but never seen. A man that is unknown, yet known by the entire campus. A man that truly had it all figured out. When I met this man, I was a mere Freshman. The whole of my college career was in front of me. I had never had much luck with ladies. Don’t get me wrong, I had my fair share of girls in High School, though to this man, I may as well have just popped out of my mother’s womb. What I didn’t know, was that meeting this man would change my life completely. This, is the legend of the man known as “The Basic Bitch Whisperer”.
I was standing in the corner of the very first college party I had ever attended. A warm Natural Light beer, which I had not yet acquired the taste for yet was gripped firmly in my hands. I was looking at my phone to cut down on the anxiety that ravaged my brain. Being the new kid on a campus across the country from my hometown meant that there was no refuge of sliding my way into a group of familiar faces. So I did the rounds of checking all of my social media accounts to see what my friends and acquaintances were doing with their college weekend. It was just then when a tall, but unassuming man leaned against the wall next to me. I saw my chance to not look like a sad, unwanted puppy at this obviously joyous environment, so I made what I now know is a piss-poor attempt at making conversation. “Lit party, right!?” I somewhat rhetorically asked as I took a sip from my can. “Nah man, this is shit…just wait until football season starts, then this place will be crawling with it”. His breath, so strong with the scent of cheap liquor that it cut through the cheap cologne he was wearing. I introduced myself, “What’s up man, I’m Jack”. “Nice to meet you, bud, you play a sport?”, he responded, while denying my handshake and oddly refusing to tell me his own name. “Yeah, I play football here”. He looked at me up and down and through a muted burp he said “Figures, I can tell by your style”. I couldn’t tell if this was a compliment, or an insult. I looked down at my outfit trying to deduce which. When my eyes cam back up, he was already across the room and greeting the most attractive group of girls at the party. They screamed like Drake or One Direction had just entered the party. “Who was this guy!? What an asshole.” I told myself, somewhat in vain, because in truth, he may have been the coolest person I had ever met.
The next day at practice. While I was rummaging through my locker looking for my pads. The same guy sat at the locker across from me. This was odd, because I had been at practice with the team for two whole weeks now and never saw him before or after our interaction at the party. I asked the Senior with the locker next to mine who this guy was, and how I had gone to countless team activities without knowing this guy. “That guy!? That’s JP. Backup quarterback and the biggest poon slayer on campus”. I laughed “What? Like Van Wilder, the movie!?”. “I guess, but better”, the Senior went on. “He’s not the best looking guy at this school, but he’ll steal your girlfriend if you aren’t careful. He’s the master.” I chuckled at the thought of this guy being the master of anything, he looked obscenely hungover and downright apathetic. Like the world wasn’t going on around him at all. There was a calmness about him, much like that of a monk, and a mystery surrounding him that baffled me. I wasn’t the only one confused either, everyone I talked to seemed to have the same idea about this guy that I did. Even those who claimed that they were close to him said that he was enigmatic in nature.
Another week, another party I was too scared to leave the corner of. Almost like the edge of any room I was in was a safety net for me. Everyone was dancing in the center of the room I was all but lurking in. I scanned the room looking for a girl that looked as lost as I did so that I could talk to her and break the tension inside myself. Against the windowsill was the same guy, although he wasn’t alone like he usually was. He had an attractive girl grinding on him and he was sloppily making out with her as she craned her neck backwards. This guy REALLY did “slay” as they say. I was in disbelief. There were a few guys that I looked up to that really did seem to have their way with the ladies, though they were all captains of the baseball or soccer teams and looked as if they could model in a Vineyard Vines catalog. This guy was a career backup and looked like he was scruffy, twice divorced father of two. Nothing added up, and being the inquisitive, and socially challenged guy I was, I decided I was going to learn this guys secret, even if it was the last thing I did before I graduated.
When you go to a religiously based school like I did, there were some days you had to attend some sort of half assed service of some sort as an entire school. This was my chance to catch the topic of this entire story and find out what made this guy so special after all. Unsurprisingly, he was sitting in the very back. Seats open on either side. I was sat down with the rest of the football team like we were all instructed to do after practice the previous day. The fact that this dude didn’t give a shit or wasn’t listening was on par with what seemed to be his general demeanor. I quietly snuck to the back and sat down next to him and immediately bombarded him with questions like I worked for TMZ and I had catch a celebrity walking out of a Whole Foods. “Dude, piss off whydontcha?” he moaned. I apologized, demanding questions was the worst way to get someone to talk. So I levels with him, “Okay, I heard a rumor that you slay around here, I just wanna know how you do it. You’re like a god amongst men!”. “I ain’t shit man. Just a guy floating through college trying to have fun” he said in a hushed tone as the service started in the auditorium. I didn’t have the heart to dig any further that day, nor did I any other day after that. I chose to go about my days without it eating at me like it did the past few weeks.
Christmas and New Years That year felt different than it did any other year. Yeah, I got to see my friends again after going out separate ways in the fall, but things were different now. The kids we once were in High School were gone and in their places were animals that only cared about hooking up and drinking ourselves into stupors half of the week. So when school came back into session, I was more glad to see the people that I had met just months before than I was to see the people I had grown up with. Though only a month or so had passed, I dapped up my boys and hugged the girls in my dorm like this was some sort of reunion that had been years in the making. With football season long gone, my teammates and I would have more free time to pass partying, playing video games, or chasing girls. That was exactly my plan, too. I was going to tear through this school and its women like a tornado. No discernment or care as to who it was or even what she looked like really. I was on a mission.
As with any mission that’s worth while. It failed almost immediately. While I wasn’t standing in the corner of the party anymore. I found myself striking up conversations with girls, maybe engaging in a few minutes of dancing with her, then ultimately going home alone. Besides my newfound extrovert mindset, there was something else strange about the parties this semester. The life of the party, my hero, and the guy who normally had to fight chicks off with a stick was nowhere to be found. I assumed these functions would be business as usual for the guy I now referred to as “QB2” (to refer to his backup position on the football team, which he had apparently held for the length of his career). I’d be lying if I said that his absence didn’t matter. Though the gatherings I attended were more fun now that I had a goal in mind (getting laid). I couldn’t help but think QB2 had some secret knowledge to share that would help me with this mission I had so eagerly taken part in. I knew then, through the drunken haze brought on by Natty Light and a single hit from a gravity bong situated outside, that I had to find him.
Turns out, QB2 wasn’t as mysterious of a guy than I had previously thought. He lived alone in a student apartment and apart from classes, never really left it. This information was given to me by another teammate who warned me to steer clear of QB2 if he wasn’t in a “going out” mood. I obviously wasn’t going to heed that warning. I drove out to his apartment complex almost immediately, found his door marked “C21”, and knocked. At first, I got nothing. So I decided to knock one more time. This time, I could hear a dog barking on the other side of the door. After a few seconds I heard a faint “Go the fuck away! I’m busy!”. I knocked again, this time I shouted back “It’s Jack, coach sent someone to check on you, you didn’t go to PT today”. The door swung open, “I didn’t have fucking training today, besides, I’m a 5th year. I couldn’t give two fucks anymore.”, he paused. “Oh, it’s you…fuck off.” “Dude, I NEED you to teach me how to get laid, everyone knows you’re the master, even just some tricks would help.”. He laughed, “well fuck kid, you’ve obviously been chewing on this topic since you bum rushed me at mass, so fuck it. Go get me some vodka and I’ll tell you what I can. “It’s 3 o’ clock on a Thursday” I said in disbelief. “…and it’s Friday in Australia, pussy” he said as he slammed the door in my face.
Thirty minutes later, after asking someone with a fake ID to buy me a handle of Toni’s Handmade Vodka. I arrived back at the apartment. Surprisingly, once I had alcohol QB2 was much more inviting than usual. He introduced me to his hunting dog “Gunner” and asked if I wanted any of the vodka. “Sure”, I replied nervously. He then proceeded to pour the vodka into a cup and hand me a can of Mountain Dew. “All I’ve got bud, take it or leave it”. I choked down a sip and chased it down with the Mountain Dew, ending with a slight cough. “So, you came to learn about getting laid. Well, to be honest man. I don’t have any secrets to give to you.”. I was shocked, “Wait what?? You clean up despite the fact that barely anyone knows your government name! What do you mean there’s no secret!?”. “First of all, my name is J.P., and again, there is NO secret here, this shit is light work.”. I had no response, I expected some sort of pickup line or conversation I could have to get any chick I wanted in bed just like J.P. “Listen, if you wanna know what it is, it’s all about personality.”. I interrupted, “Ha, I’ve heard that before. That’s what they all say right before they friend zone you”. “That’s pussy shit man, if you know how to prey on a girl’s insecurities she’s putty in your hands, trust me.”
He explained the way girls work to me in striking detail. The drunker he got, the more information he passed on. “Listen kid, I’m fucked, why don’t we go to a party this weekend and I’ll show you exactly how this works.”. Excited, I agreed. By this time, I was just as drunk as he was, despite drinking about a third of what he did. This dude could put some alcohol back. “Sounds, fuckin, grreaattt man…man I’m tired.”. He laughed, “Ill call you an Uber, rookie. Something tells me you can’t afford a DUI lawyer right now.”. When I woke up in the morning, I realized that very little of what J.P. Had told me last night actually stuck. As I ate the terrible coining y’all biscuits and gravy I pained over what was ahead “Does this mean I’ll actually go home with someone?”, “Will I be The life of the party like JP!?”, “Where the hell is the clitoris anyway”. I hoped all these questions would be answered and (almost) all would be that very weekend…
To be continued…