"Yeah, gimme say, 10 or 15 minutes, I'll be there." I folded the cell phone shut and turned my concentration back towards driving. I'm making my way down the 405 freeway in the direction of Hermosa Beach, where I'm meeting friends for our semi-regular Tuesday night drill of cheap tacos and mexican beer. I figured I could use the pick-me-up after my dismal meeting over coffee with Shannon. Too bad. I thought there might be something there. I've still got an excellent chance of turning things around tonight, as Samantha has promised to introduce me to a friend in an attempt to successfully match me with a sorority sister of hers. After a number of failed attempts Samantha considers me her project.

I pulled into the lot behind Pier Avenue and immediately noticed familiar cars - silver jetta, triple black Mustang, the Acura CL with the dent on the right corner of the bumper - my friends were here. I found a spot and gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror. Hair, check. Shirt, not too wrinkled. Check. The circles under the eyes were showing but I attributed it to my car's dome light. I'll have to make sure I use more Origins eye syrum than usual the rest of this week.
I found my friends, along with a few others I did not recognize, inside Sharkeez in a corner wolfing down their tacos and nursing beers. Samantha, queen bee that she was, was firmly centered within the group and controlling the conversation. I could only hear bits from where I was standing, something about liqueur. Sam brought her regulars along: Paulette, a former co-worker of Sam's who, despite her beauty and great body, seemed to always repell the guys due to the deep, unsettling tenor of her voice; Jessica, the Alabama debutante who had come west to find her calling and her dream man. To date, she's found neither; and a new face - lightly tanned, fresh, wholesome. Shoulder-length black hair, nice, well-defined legs, especially in the heels she had on, and a decent ass. Not mushy, but not small and flat. Put together well. Could this be Katie who Samantha had planned to introduce?

I put on a big smile and walked up beside them. "Evening folks. How are the fish tacos tonight."

Samantha stopped her liqueur discourse midsentence and turned to me. "Reed, how great of you to show," she said as she overdid the motion of shaking the watch free on her wrist to check the time. "Run out of things to do this evening?"

"Funny." I turned away and tried to get the cook's attention to place my order. I grabbed an empty cup and bummed some beer from their pitcher.

"Hey!" said Allen. "Get your own, bud."

"I'll get next. And when have I ever reneged on buying? I'm a regular fuckin' Rockerfeller when it comes to buying this group beer."

"Yeah, yeah."

I made small talk with Jessica before Samantha came strutting my way, her unnamed friend in tow.

"So, we need to talk," Samantha began.

"Do we?"

"We were beginning to think you weren't going to show. That's bad form."

"I wouldn't have ruined much. You'd still have the whole bar to pick from," I said, as my arm swept across the room for effect.

"We're not interested in them," she began, before a dramatic pause. "This is Katie," she continued, taking a step back so Katie would be closer to me, "and Katie, this is Reed, the one I told you about."

"Told you about?" I mocked. "Like I'm some devilish rogue to be feared?"

The girl laughed apprehensively. She'd just been introduced and was already being forgotten about.

"Hi," Katie said softly. She was nervous, and probably as much against being set up as I. We shook hands and I made a comment about her jacket bringing out the color in her eyes. She giggled.

"That wasn't supposed to sound as much as a come-on line as it did," I laughed. "If I never see you again after tonight, just know the compliment was sincere."

I sized her up as we continued talking: Great smile, could hold down her end of a conversation, pretty easy going. She didn't seem to have a chip on her shoulder like SoCal women often do. There was a genuine sweet innocence that came across.

Sam stole a few gazes from her perch at a table, shooting me a knowing grin as she saw us talking and getting on. She probably thought she had finally solved me, that once again she knew me and had a best notion of what I needed. People like Sam bother me, not because of their intent but because they think they know you. You could do everything to prove the complete opposite but they still are convinced they've got you pegged. And don't bother reasoning with them.

In the middle of telling Katie what I do for work, she cut me off. "I like how this is going and all, and I hate to totally send the wrong message, but I've got to go. Do you think maybe we can continue this later this week, just us?"

I couldn't tell if this was some hard-to-get play. I did arrive two hours later than everyone else, so maybe she did have to run. Getting together any time this week was out of the question, however. I still had dates with Renee and Austin lined up later in the week.

"Sure, sorry to see you go. Here's an idea: See that place across the street" - I pointed out the doors towards Brewskis pub and pizza on the other side of Pier - "if you're not doing anything Sunday what say we meet up at 7 and pick up from there?"

Katie liked the idea, left me her cell number, then grabbed her stuff and left, but not before stopping briefly to say something to Samantha. Whatever it was must have been good, because they both turned towards me and smiled for an instant before exchanging a few more words. Then she was gone.

Allen came over and mentioned something about hooking women like fish. "Yeah, if you think of them as fish in the sea," I responded. Allen was a little down because he hadn't managed to line up anything lately. His last date was with one of the women who was with Monica the night we met at Dodger Stadium. Things had lasted only one date with Monica's friend. Turns out the two had nothing in common.

"The trick is to be on even when you're not on, you know?" I told him.

"What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that you have to be sending out the signals and playing the games at all times. Flirt a little, but act like she's nothing great, like you could be doing this with any girl in the place. Or not at all. Don't tip your hand."

"Oh, standoffish."

"No, more like indifferent. It's cool if she talks to you, it's cool if she doesn't."

"Whatever," Allen muttered. "That's as clear-cut as a murky pond."

"Okay then, let's put it in practice," I suggested. We each spotted a girl we were interested in at the bar, each a good distance away from the other. "Here's what you do: Go up to the bar right next to the girl you've selected and order a drink. Get the bartender's attention and order the drink without acknowleding the girl. While the bartender is doing his thing turn your attention to the girl, give here a short look, then ask her what it's drinking and if it's any good. Then get your drink and come back to this table."

"That's it?" Allen exclaimed. "That's gonna get me her phone number?"

"Dude, you're looking at this all wrong. The act of picking up on a woman has to seem like it's not a pick up. In a best case scenario it looks like it's all her doing. For that to happen it has to take place over a staggered period of time. If you come up with the hard press out of the blue she'll know what's up and will immediately put up the defenses. This way you're bringing her around to your side, slowly." Allen gave me a skeptical look. "Trust me," I said, motioning towards the bar, "just try it."

I watched until he was at the bar and flagging down a bartender before I made my way over to my experiment for the night. She was seated with friend of hers, about my age with short brown hair and a long legs which she crossed tightly under the bar. She was smiling at her friend a lot. I pushed my way in so I was right next to her, but just as I had instructed Allen to do, I acted like I didn't know she existed. The bartender came by and I shouted for a Ketel One and tonic amid the loud din of the place.

As a waited I turned to look at my guinea pig of a girl and she noticed my stare. That's when I launched the experiment. "That drink of yours there," I began, "I don't think I've ever seen that before. What it is, if I may ask."

Her stare turned to a smile once she realized the harmless question. "Oh, it's a 'Flaming Volcano'," she replied, and rattled off what was in it.

"Sounds pretty good, I may have to try one next round." My drink came and I thanked my guinea pig for the info before returning to our table where Allen was already waiting.

"Did you do alright?" I asked.

"Alright? I just asked her what was in the drink, she told me, and that was that. What kind of pick up is that?"

I shook my head at the Doubting Thomas. "You'll see. That was merely laying the foundation. Next time you're going to go up beside her again and order whatever it was she was drinking. Say hi again and mention to her that you're giving her drink a try. Once you get it, stay there, take a sip, and then tell her she was right, it's a great drink. Even if it's the worst thing you've ever tasted. Then come back to the table."

"This is a fucking waste of time," Allen blurted. We slowly finished our drinks, then took a quick inventory of the bar to make sure our girls were still there.

"So you know what to do, yeah?"

"I should make you buy the drink for coming up with this crap, dude."

"Just follow my advice, that's all I ask. If it doesn't work on her, then it might another day with another girl."

"Another day? How long does this take?"

"It's not an exact science. Fishing was what you compared it to earlier. Fishing isn't quick. You troll for bites."

We left the table, taking our separate routes to the bar to enact the next phase of our experiment. Once again I stood beside the bartender and tried to get his attention. Once he came over I delivered my line: "I'm gonna try a Flaming Volcano, it's the same thing she's drinking." I pointed to my girl without looking at her. The bartender said he knew what it was
and went off to gather the necessary bottles.

I turned to my guinea pig and said, dryly, "I'm gonna give your drink a go. I hope it tastes good."

She returned my gaze and with a smile said, "It is. I think you'll like it." The bartender eventually returned with the concoction and I gave her a cheers motion with the arm before taking a gulp. I'm not one for the fruity cocktails but this Flaming Volcano drink wasn't half bad. I could see myself laying on a beach in Tahiti drinking one.

"Good call," I told her. "I like it. Thanks for bringing it to my attention." And with that I took my drink back to the table. Again, Allen was already there waiting.

"How did it go?" I asked.

"Dunno. I did my thing and came back."

"Yeah, but how did she respond? What could you read off her?"

"That she was talking to just another one of the hundreds of guys who wander in and out of here."

"There's your problem. If you think of yourself that way you won't be able to project anything a woman will want to pick up on. You've got to project something women will tap into."

"You sound like a fucking self-help book," Allen responded. He was growing less interested with our experiment with every passing minute.

We continued our drinks in silence until I noticed my experiment girl coming my way. I didn't put too much stock into it; the bathrooms were a few feet behind me. As she passed by she rhetoricaly asked "still liking the drink?" without stopping. After she was inside the bathroom I smiled triumphantly at Allen.

"Yahtzee."

"What. That?"

"Yep, I got a bite. What you didn't realize, my pessimistic friend, is that after laying the foundation you stroke the ego. By trying the drink and thanking her for telling you what it was the last time around you've essentially complimented her. And not just the normal "nice eyes, great smile" stuff that reeks of pick up; you've just told her she's got good taste. My chickie picked up on that and is now initiating the next phase. She's thought 'hmm, maybe I can give him a chance to find out what else I've got good taste in,' so she's come looking to extend the dialogue on her way to the bathroom."

"That little thing just now?"

"Indeed. Allen, one thing you have to realize is that EVERYBODY - you, me, all the people in here - wants the chance to show somebody that they've got good taste, that they've got something to offer. But they aren't going to just come out and say that because it will seem creepy. So they leak it out, little by little. This is just one of the hundreds of ways. She was also doing recon just now. She wanted to see if I was here with anybody. Gotta expose the competition early, you know?"

I saw the door to the ladies' restroom open from a mirror on the wall of the bar, and when I saw it wasn't her, I tried to finish as much of my drink as possible before she emerged.

"What are you doing?" Allen asked.

"Giving her an in to keep talking. Watch." Shortly after finishing, the door opened and she came back out. Getting a full view of her in the mirror, I noticed the all-too-imitated tribal band tatoo around her right ankle and the beachcomber sandals, the one with the high cork heels. She looked like the display you see in every fashion magazine when trying to convey beach apparel. All she missed was spray-on self tanner. She made her way past me and then stopped when she saw my empty glass.

"Wow, I guess it agrees with you, huh?"

"What can I say, it's a damn good drink. Can't thank you enough for being at the bar drinking this. I'll have to get another." I pause and hold out my hand. "I'm Reed."

She shakes my hand and draws in closer. "I'm Marnie. And no problem, not a lot of people know this drink."

"Hey, want to join me in one? My treat - as a thank you for turning me onto this." She nodded and pulled up an empty stool.

I motioned to Allen. "This is my good friend -"

"Allen," he interrupted, and after shaking Marnie's hand continued, "I have to be going. Work comes early tomorrow." He gathered his coat and moved around the table to where I was. "I'll give you a call later. Buddy." He dug his nails into my shoulders a bit when he said 'buddy,' and he said it with an added bite.