A NEW GAME TO PLAY
Over the past two weeks, I’ve been cold-approaching women in public. Cold-approaching is a term used in the pickup artist community; it means to go up to a person and begin a conversation. Ever since I started reading Neil Strauss’s The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists, I’ve been fascinated with all the things I never knew about being social (as opposed to the psychological toolkit proffered by pickup artists to optimally seduce women).
I don’t fancy myself as someone who wishes to seduce (or could pull off the sorts of magic tricks, blatant techniques offered in the book).
But the social-skill aspect of approaching people…That has been fascinating to experiment with.
Some background: I wouldn’t call myself socially inept. I’m not clueless with how to speak to others, even women. Like many creative types, I’m predisposed to an introvert’s lifestyle, finding pleasure in time alone with hobbies/projects than seeking the battery refill of social interaction. That being said, when it comes to speaking to others, I have a fairly rote set of skills that aren’t up-to-date. Much of what I learned involves asking open-ended questions and keeping someone else talking. This is fine if my intention was small talk, or a polite conversation with a stranger, but when it comes to a more meaningful connection, asking questions is like a table with only three legs—it can stand upright but, you know, just barely.
The problem with wanting to test new social skills as someone older is there isn’t a steady place to practice. In my situation, I happen to have a burgeoning college campus full of students just waiting to be spoken with. So, setting out to try a few lessons from Neil Strauss’s book, I set out to test my skills this past week.
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THE TOOLKIT
The first step was to apply a few useful tips from Strauss’s book. In no particular order, I sought to do the following:
Have an Opener: Really, just a rehearsed scenario that I could begin a conversation with. Here’s what I used:
“Hi, let me get your opinion on this. My sister’s birthday is coming up and I’m buying her a shirt she’s been wanting. I’m not sure if she’s a small or a medium, which size should I go with?”
It’s a solid opener because it invites a casual response (something that isn’t too difficult to have an opinion about) and appears harmless. It’s disarming and allows me to convey confidence in approaching a perfect stranger about this dilemma.
Set a Time Frame: Don’t just approach someone and gab on about something you’d like their opinion on. Most likely, a stranger is thinking two things when you approach: What does this person want, and how long are they staying around? So, to mitigate one of these concerns, it’s a good idea to disarm the concern that you’re not about to leave with a statement of how long you intend to stick around.
I used this one since I was on campus: “I only have a few minutes and then I have to get to my next class.”
I was skeptical that this would be so impactful, but I could see the tension drop away. A time frame was relieving. Who knew?
Don’t be Results Dependent: A huge problem with my previous social interactions has been expecting a certain result: exchanging phone numbers, assurance of a followup interection, acknowledgment that I was the most perfect man and how could I have not come along sooner…
(You can see some of the psychology for why it’s been a struggle. I haven’t, as Esther Peral famously prescribed, “calibrated expectations”.
With strangers, frankly anyone, I wanted to be the most likeable person who could win their affections. If you’ve tried this before, the results are obvious: If you’re desperate to be liked, not only do you appear disingenuous, but will fail miserably. Desperation is potent like Body Odor or blood in the water—people have a sense for it and it isn’t desired. Not socially, at least.
Letting go of results also takes away the pressure of approaching others—simply saying a few lines, playing with the conversation, and then saying, “Thanks. Nice to meet you,” are all acceptable ways of ending things if it isn’t going well.
And many times, things going poorly is as much about luck and chemistry as it is about social prowess.
Speak in Statements: Statements are the language of intimacy, I’ve come to realize. Statements take a stand. Friends talk to each other in statements. In fact, I’d wager the reason we love and care for our favorite heroes in stories is because they mostly speak in statements. It’s simply the door opening to the soul.
Questions are interrogative, like being on a job interview. I’m a great listener and question asker, which isn’t surprising—the writer in me is a natural investigative journalist. But being a great question-asker also means I don’t participate in conversation. Asking questions, I’ve realized, means I’m not offering anything to the conversation about myself. Essentially, I’m hiding behind the lopsided expectation that others should speak and I can sit back and watch them—like an audience. Is it surprising, then, that I’m the one to fall in love with others instead of their falling in love with me?
Of course: They’ve been making statements and have demonstrated character, while I’ve been most often anonymous and asking questions.
With this toolkit memorized, I set out to talk to women on campus.
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IN THE FIELD
If the pieces of advice I listed above seemed intuitive enough, putting them into practice was a completely different experience. For example, I had not taken into account the entire lifetime of built up social fears and belief systems that made it impossible not to flounder on the first few approaches.
My first approach was with a fashion designer at a coffee shop. She had been reading a book about entrepreneurship and I started with a question, “What are you reading?”
She answered. I couldn’t recall what she said because I was petrified. Up close, she was prettier than I had anticipated. Everything I had coached myself to try had gone out the window. So, I reverted to my default social ability: I asked interview questions.
“Are you looking to start a business?”
“What other things have you designed?”
“Is this for college?”
On and on and on about her fashion dreams. And me? Nothing to report—I didn’t say anything about myself. I could have been an undercover IRS agent for all she knew, which is about how she looked at me after the fifth or sixth question. To my credit, though, I recognized the conversation wasn’t going well—certainly not organically—so I thanked her for her time and said it was nice to meet her.
A class crash and burn, but also a start of something. Where I might have just walked past this person’s table, I stopped and attempted a conversation. So, at least a passing grade with a first attempt.
Partial credit is better than none.
The second interaction this past week was on campus. Spotting a girl sitting in the warm sunlight outside of the library, I approached with an opener I had been turning over in my head. I mustered up the courage and then approached to say:
“Hi, I could really use your opinion on this. My friend was dumped by his girlfriend a few weeks ago, and he keeps texting me that he needs closure in order to move on. Should he text her about what happened?”
Ok, maybe a little too autobiographical for complete comfort, but it worked. She told me that it was never a good idea to try to get back or ask for closure with an ex (a sensible and correct answer). I asked if she’s ever had guys try to contact her after a breakup. She said no and that her mother always steered her right on these matters.
“Help my friend out,” I said, feeling more confident after sensing things were going well. “If you’re being approached by a guy, how should he come up to you?”
She thought for a moment and said, “Not like this. If I’m at a library, I’m working on something. At a coffee house, I’m just trying to get away and have a cup of coffee, maybe read.. If I want to meet a guy, I’ll go to a bar or to a club and go dancing. It makes sense to come up to me there. Anywhere else and it isn’t organic.”
I was surprised by her answer, organic. “You wouldn’t want to be approached at the library? Even if it was Downey Jr. coming up to you?”
She smiled. “Well, that’s different.”
I laughed. “Ok. So, at a bar or a club. Is that where you meet guys?”
She dropped her smile. “Oh, I’m not 21. But, yeah, that’s how I would want to meet guys.”
Ouch, that age difference between her and I. Yes, it was time for me to leave. “Well, I have to run to class, but thank you—I’ll tell my friend what you said.”
“Hey, what class are you going to?”
I smiled. Yes, the hook; the point where she’s interested and asks a question about me. I hadn’t expected this moment, but was flattered that it had come. Too bad the age gap between us was about 13-14 years—something I’m not willing to pursue. I said a class, the lie was white and innocent, and I took my leave.
And gave myself full credit as I walked on.
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DRUNK TESTING
Whether cold-approaching does anything for my social life, the jury is still out. It’s true that I have more confidence since trying some of the approaches from Neil Strauss’s book, but this could also be an uptick in confidence due to experience. I’m not convinced that any of these prescribed techniques works for me specifically, but I am also at a crossroads in life and trying something new is entirely worthwhile.
The process of cold-approaching, like anything that’s been worth doing in my life, has been the most fun anyways.
Over the weekend, I travelled to Detroit to visit a few friends. I talked about cold-approaching at an Irish pub, and after a few Guinness’s each, we each took turns pretending to cold-approach the table as though we were striking up a conversation with a bunch of strangers. Each attempt was more ridiculous than the last, and we never were convincing to one another. It didn’t matter—after every try, we all sat down to laugh at how ridiculous we looked and sounded. It was great fun.
I realized on the drive back to my friends’ apartment that the fun rested entirely in the aftermath of any of this cold-approaching business. It was never about being successful with women or being considered a social darling—it was all about the fun of having an experience and sharing it with some close friends. We were all drunk, having a great time, and there wasn’t much else that mattered (besides getting home safe).
I’ll have to test some more in the coming weeks, but I did discover a new technique for mitigating the anxiety of approaching others: When one is hungover with blistering headache, there isn’t much energy left to care about how socially graceful you are.
So cheers to me and you, my friend: To more adventures, wherever they may be.
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Justin Timberlake’s new album “Everything I Ever Thought It Was” album released over the past week. It’s wonderful. Everyone should have a listen. I’ll listen the three tracks I’ve had on repeat, but the album is truly a work of renown.
In a sweeping series of promotions, Justin Timberlake also featured on NPR’s Tiny Desk Concert series, reprising some golden favorites. It’s a fantastic use of 25-minutes of your life to give it a watch. I’ll include a link.
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Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,
