Seduction is like a really good song. A great intro that tells you everything you need to know about the entire song, a well written verse that sets the scene, a bridge that builds up to the expansion that is the chorus, the heart of the song, but it’s not the climax, not yet. You go back to the second verse, rising up to another bridge, sweeping you into the chorus yet again, but this time it takes you higher. But it’s still not the climax, not yet. Another bridge, this time the build up is fierce, the climax is near, it’s taking you home. Last chorus, climax at last, the final eruption that wipes everything out in its wake…
Before I go any further, kindly press play on the Estelle track. Stop dithering, just press play, trust me. Now listen to the intro, just listen. Are you listening? Can you hear the organ? Stop the track now. That, my friend, is the most kick-ass intro, ever. Listen to it again. Drums, then keyboard, then drums again…13 seconds of pure musical genius. From that point on she could have sang ‘baa baa black sheep’ and no one would have noticed, or cared. I can see you frowning at the screen, ‘Now what is this stupid cow on about today?’ you ask, irritated. You’re probably hoping this is about my dysfunctional love life, or lack thereof. No such luck folks, this one’s about intros, as in introductions.
I once read that we form impressions of someone within the first 7 seconds of meeting, everything after that only serves to reinforce whatever assumptions we’ve just made. Scary thought isn’t it? Now seven seconds is roughly the time it took you to read those two sentences, that’s how long it took for him to write you off as a crazy lunatic with hygiene issues. It doesn’t matter how low-cut your top is or how brilliant a mind you possess, you’ve been written off, just like that. In those first seven seconds, your brain will process a thousand little bits of information, everything from the colour of a shirt to the hint of an accent in a voice, and all this while you’re still shaking hands. Are you scared yet? Now I can go on and expound on this theory in an attempt to convince you, but I wont, that’s what google is for. I’m more interested in the practical applications of this information i.e. how to get a man.
Of course this is about my dysfunctional love life. Oh ye of little faith… This is a follow up to the John Wayne
Ladies, how many times have you been introduced to a lovely man and all you did was giggle awkwardly and look away? Or did you bat your (false) eyelashes and coo seductively? The question you need to ask yourself is what you’re saying in those first 7 seconds you meet a potential Mr Right
I had a drink last week with a couple of lovely gentlemen who, despite their fondness for beer, football and scratching their balls, are rather perceptive chaps and are not afraid to tell me what they really think (although that’s probably because neither wants to shag me). While the topic of discussion that evening was originally business stuff and such like serious nonsense, eventually we ended up discussing their favourite topic, women. The women they’re shagging, want to shag, want to shag again, never want to shag again, will never shag, and on and on and on… At one point, a heated discussion was being had over whether or not a certain girl they both lust after, and likely will never have, is ‘wifey with good lay’ or ‘good lay with wifey’. ‘What’s the difference?’ I asked, knowing full well that the answer I’d get in reply would be both idiotic and completely unhelpful. It was. I believe the response was ‘Eh? Si you know…’ Said gentlemen are not rocket scientists.
Turns out men define women as one of two things, ‘wifey’ i.e. potential mother of my children, or ‘lay’ i.e. I must stick my dick into her as soon as possible. Problem is, this distinction is made immediately. The more of one you are, the less of the other you can be, it’s basically a sliding scale with his mother on one end (ultimate wifey) and his favourite stripper on the opposite end (sex and nothing but…). Please note that there are no exceptions to this rule, men don’t understand the concept of exceptions, they understand percentages. One look at a woman and he will decide that she is 80% wifey, so instead of trying to funga her ass, he’ll funga her pal who looks kendo 60% lay. It’s in this same vein that he will approach the same 80% he ignored, the following morning in church. Sounds insane no? While you’re sitting there sipping on your café latte and generally trying to look all ‘come hither’, that bugger has already sized you up and concluded that you’re just the refreshment he needs, or not.
Ladies, this is the harsh reality, first impressions are made based primarily on the visual, how you look and how you carry yourself, those 7 seconds will determine if he sees you as a potential missus or miss-hap. Frankly, its time for us women to stop worrying about the ‘happily ever after’ ending and start focusing on the ‘first glance across the crowded room’ moment, because it’s the latter that will determine whether or not the former will come to pass. Simply put, if you want to be seduced, then make yourself seduceable, and unfortunately that means less sexy and more sensual, think flowery frock instead of leopard print hot pants. I know, its sounds boring, but you’re the genius looking for tea and flowers, this is the price you must pay. Of course, not all women are looking to be seduced, some are simply looking to get laid no? Problem is, said woman will rock up in the club in the frock and then wonder why no man is interested. Babes, ditch the frock and take your leopard out to hunt.
For all their bullshit talk, men are disturbingly simple when it comes to women, even better, they’re easily distracted by shiny objects and such like, so they can be fooled into thinking whatever you want them to. So keep this one thing in mind: If you act like a schoolteacher, he’ll take you for a horse ride, and if you act like a whore, then he’ll ride you like a horse. All you have to do is figure out which one you want to be and then play the part. For 7 seconds. That’s all it takes. Really.
Remember that Estelle track you played at the beginning? I’m guessing most of you have heard the song before, hell at one point you couldn’t cross a street in this town without hearing it streaming out of every other passing car, every other club, it was everywhere. But I’m willing to bet that you’d never heard that intro, right? Thing is, odds are you have, many times, you just never paid it too much attention, until now that is. Why not? Well, when you heard the song you quickly got captivated by the brilliant climax at the end, forgot all about the innocent beginning with its pretty little drums and sexy organ…
