Reader’s note: This story is satirical in nature and published in a spoof issue.
I should have known something was wrong when Samson stopped in the middle of introducing himself to refer to Neil Strauss’s book, “The Game.”
“Hi, I’m, uh, Samson and I, uh,” he peered down at his apparent cheat sheet as I started to head for the door.
“Wait! I was wondering if I could get your number,” Samson read from his book.
When I realized this kid wasn’t just reading out loud from a pickup guide-that he was actually directing the question towards me-I felt sorry for him. Samson looked like the type of guy who had spent many a night next to his Lonely Man Hand Lotion and a sticky sock.
He continued reading, “I used to be an AFC, but now I’m hitting up the HB’s like yourself.”
I had already decided that there was something a little off about Samson, but these acronyms convinced me that he was speaking an alien language from another planet.
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to translate. What is an AFC? An HB?”
Samson looked up from his book, but only to laugh at my ignorance. “An AFC is an ‘average frumpy chump’ and a HB is a ‘hot babe.’ Gosh, haven’t you hit up the G-dub dating scene? Everyone is using this new lingo that I made up all by myself.”
I know what you’re thinking. I should have been looking for the nearest exit. Yes, that is probably true, but my curiosity got the best of me.
“Are you a dating counselor,” I asked. “Why did you make up these acronyms? Why are people using them?”
“The summer before freshman year, I tirelessly read pages upon pages of seduction material posted on chat forums and written in self-help guidebooks by so-called Pick Up Artists-men who devote their entire lives to understanding and reverse-engineering sexual rapport with our female counterparts. In three months, I transformed myself from a socially retarded child to a confident, charismatic man and now I’m the king of GW dating,” Samson said.
This was like the scene from “Jerry Maguire” where Renee Zellweger tells Tom Cruise “you had me at hello.” Only the exact opposite.
I asked Samson, “If you made up all of these terms, why do you need to be reading them from Neil Strauss’s book?”
“I’m not reading from Neil Strauss’s book,” Samson snapped back, as he held “The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists” in his hand.
“I can see it. You are holding it,” I said, pointing to the book. “You are reading someone else’s dating tips and pretending they are your own. That’s dishonest, not to mention weird.”
Samson looked confused. “No it’s not. The Hatchet let me do it.”