Introducing Mary Beth

Dear readers, please allow me to introduce you to Mary Beth Sales, a young lass with a unique understanding of the intricacies of modern romance. We here at How to Meet Broads Inc. were introduced to her via the magic of the internet, and she was nice enough to agree to an interview. Without a doubt, there is much insight to be gained from her female perspective. Here goes...

Tell us a little about yourself. Who are you? Where are you from? What do you do for a living?

I'm Mary Beth. A true Midwesterner, I am a St. Louis girl at heart, so I love the Cardinals and hate the Cubs. Now I live in the crazy -- yet fabulous -- City of Angels. I'm a law school drop-out -- finally doing something in my life for myself. Since I love fashion, I'm a wardrobe stylist. And an on-camera host. A hustler. In other words, I get paid to shop and put clothes on people, and I get some extra cash by interviewing people on the red carpet. On the weekends (or, Mondays through Thursdays for LA locals, I should say), I play wingwoman for my guy friends.

What are the responsibilities of a good wingwoman?

In a nut shell, a good wingwoman will be her guy friend's teammate on a playing field, whether at a party, bar, club, sports event, wedding, etc. Teammates always work together. When the ball (aka the prospective female for the guy friend) enters the playing field, a good wingwoman will gradually build rapport with the prospective female. The wingwoman will make the prospective female smile, maybe compliment her, and ask what her plans are for the night, or for the weekend. Finally, a good wingwoman will pass the ball to her guy friend and bring the prospective female into communication with the him. It's up to him to score.

Where do you feel most men fail when attempting to talk to women?

Beginning with a really bad pick-up line. Or any pick-up line in general. Sometimes a simple, "Hi, my name is ______ " with a genuine smile just might work.

And don't ask whether I want you to buy me a drink. Just ask me what I'm drinking and duplicate it. If I take it, then lucky you. If I don't, gracefully take it for yourself to drink. Also, drinks should always be ordered and served in front of me. Or else I won't drink it at all. Can't trust a perfect stranger :)

What do you find attractive in a male?

A million dollar smile, confidence, swagger, ambition and a hustler mentality.

How do you define confidence, and how do you recognize that an individual has it?
I can't exactly define confidence, but I definitely know it when I see it.

A confident guy won't compete with me. He won't be so eager to list his entire academic CV after I tell him that I graduated college cum laude in three years and was accepted to an accelerated 2-year law program. He is proud and stands securely next to anyone. A confident guy has no problem making conversation with anyone. He is diplomatic. A truly confident man is humble. And wise.

When it comes to evaluating prospective mates, how important are the following to you: How much money a guy makes. What kind of car he drives. What he does for a living. His age. His height and weight.
Money is important. I don't want to have to worry about someone else's financial well-being -- I already have to worry about mine. What he does for a living is crucial. My prospective mate must be both happy and successful -- if you're making great money with your job, but don't really like it -- huge turn off.

Car -- not anymore. I've always wanted a man who will love me more than his car. Although, a nice car is a bonus. Just make sure it's equivalent to your standard of living -- don't drive a 996 Twin Turbo and live in an apartment that costs $1,300 a month. Like my ex did.

Age -- I once dated a guy 12 years older than myself. I'll never do it again. Well, at least in my mind, "older guys" think they know it all. Actually, age is a state of mind. I swore to myself I would never date someone under 28 (I'm 25) -- but I know 24-year-old guys who act maturely and have business minds like a 38-year-old. And a bomb smile? Total turn on.

Height -- has to be taller than I am when I'm wearing my highest heels. In other words -- at least 5'9". I love it when I look up and a guy kisses me on my forehead. And take care of your body. But eat well too. It shows that you're driven and have respect for yourself.

Do you find there to be a difference between dating in the Midwest and dating in Los Angeles?

I've thrown boys away like purple Jolly Ranchers here in LA. (I hate artificial grape flavors). I feel like there are so many guys to choose from, it doesn't phase me as much when I drop/lose them. I've talked to a Beverly Hills plastic surgeon, a software guru who's been featured in Forbes, the perfect-GPA-NCAA-athlete-of-the-year guy... I can always find something wrong with them. Here in LA, you'd be a fool to think that you're the "only one" whom someone is dating -- that goes for both guys and girls.

In the Midwest, guys hold doors, they never fail to politely introduce you to others, smile... I couldn't treat them like grape candy.

If you could give one piece of advice to guys who have difficulty meeting women, what would it be?

Smile. And be yourself. We can see right through you.

[Ed. note: Read more about the misadventures of Mary Beth Sales at her blog, www.marusedtoloveher.com.]

The Dog Brothers

Without a doubt, one of the greatest MTV moments of all time. In many ways, though, the Dog Brothers were ahead of their time. How is it they they never had their own show?

How to Become a Master Pick-Up Artist

People are always asking me, "Jeff C., how do I become a master pick-up artist like you?"

Obviously, there is no simple answer to this question… and really, let's be honest, the chances of anyone out there becoming even half as skilled as I am at meeting and seducing scores of beautiful women are slim-to-none. I got to where I am today – proudly perched atop the apex of the seduction community – through a long, arduous process of experimentation, analysis and frequent, painful rejection. Everyone in this world is different, and our individual life experiences shape each of us in a unique manner. That said, I do believe there are lessons to be learned by the path I took in my younger years, and if I can help just one lonely, self-conscious teenager gain the confidence he needs to succeed with women later on in life, then perhaps my story is worth telling. So here goes…

I was born in 1979 in the suburbs of Philadelphia. While my childhood was generally happy, marked by sun-drenched memories of Little League games and days spent swimming in the local pool, my teenage years felt more awkward than most. As my elementary school friends expanded their social circles, began going to weekend parties and dating, I retreated into an introverted shell, surrounding myself with comic books, video games and television. My average Friday night consisted of watching The X-Files alone in my bedroom while eating an entire box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

In hindsight, I allowed this to happen. Childhood, generally-speaking, allows us to be free-spirited at all times. The rigors of day-to-day life do not concern us, because we tend to not be conscious of them. However, at a certain point, we cannot help but become conscious. We begin to see the world as it truly is. We begin to form individual thoughts and opinions. We begin to recognize our place in the universe. With this consciousness come self-consciousness. And, in my case, with that self-consciousness came self-doubt. Uncomfortable in my own skin and no longer feeling accepted by my peers, I decided that it was safer and more serene to reside in my lonely, solitary world than to risk rejection or judgment by those who populated the outside world.

Then came college.

I applied and was accepted to a school far from home. As I packed my bags, I could only envision a new town, new friends, and a new beginning.

But, as I spent the first several weekends alone in my dorm room while other freshmen went out and mingled, I realized that a simple change of environment wasn't enough. In order to fully experience life, I needed to change as well.

The television in my dorm room, with its seventy-odd channels and perfectly-adequate reception, worked just fine. But, rather than spend Sunday afternoons by myself, I strolled out to the lobby to watch football, long a passion of mine, with a handful of other students. In doing so, I gradually became friendly with several of them and, before too long, I was chatting with those same individuals during the bus ride to class. I was running into them in the library. I was being invited to their rooms on Friday nights to drink beer with their circle of friends and watch True Romance. I was going with them to keg parties at the homes of strangers. Which brings us to the most important part of my transformation…

Alcohol

I never drank in high school. Mostly because no one ever offered me alcohol. During my first few months of college, though, I learned two things: 1) I didn't particularly like the taste of beer, and 2) I absolutely, positively loved being drunk.

In an editorial from the May 2004 issue of Modern Drunkard Magazine, Frank Kelly Rich compares drinking to the tale of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. If you'd like, go ahead and read that editorial now. It's not very long. I'll wait, I promise. Done already? Okay, let's continue.

My Dr. Jekyll was painfully quiet and insecure. He was intelligent and had opinions he wanted to share, but far too often, he erred on the side of caution and kept his mouth shut. From afar, he looked at beautiful girls in awe. More than anything else, he wanted to approach them and strike up a conversation, but he was crippled by fear.

On the other hand, my Mr. Hyde was fun and outgoing. He was loud, gregarious and quick with a joke. He liked – nay, he loved – the feeling of making others laugh. He stole an orange cone from a street corner and carried it several blocks back to the dorms because he thought it would look good in his room. He showed his friends how, if you kicked the sprinklers in the park just right, they would break and shoot water straight up into the air. He could talk to anyone about anything. He was omnipotent.

Gradually, like Frank Kelly Rich, my Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde began to merge as well. My sober self became less insecure and more comfortable in social situations. In addition, during those numerous nights spent standing near a keg in someone's backyard, he learned a valuable lesson: That everyone likes meeting new people and, as long as you're kind and respectful, even the most stunningly gorgeous girl will happily have a conversation with you. Which brings us to the next aspect of my transition into a master pick-up artist…

Have Something to Talk About

As a teenager, I was passionate about the following things, in no particular order: Sports. Comic books. Video games. Masturbating.

Try having a conversation about any of those subjects with the blonde girl from your Intro to Psychology class. See how that works out.

Around the age of nineteen, though, I began reading voraciously. It started with a handful of music biographies, specifically those about Jim Morrison, who fascinated me at the time. Upon learning that he was a fan of On The Road, I ventured back into the writings of Kerouac and the Beat Generation. Then the Lost Generation of Hemingway and Fitzgerald. Then Existentialism. Then I jumped forward to the novels of Bret Easton Ellis and various other contemporary writers.

And you know what I realized in the process? That girls love talking about books. They love talking passionately about their favorite authors, about books they've read and about books they're planning to read. And now that I had painstakingly developed a passion for books as well, we had a common ground.

From then on, rather than trying to explain to girls how the New Jersey Devils ruined hockey with their defensive style in the mid-90's as they nodded vacantly and their attention wandered, I could always fall back upon books and carry on an intelligent, stimulating conversation.

But there is still one more piece of the puzzle that I need to discuss…

Don't be a Miserable Douche

You could be the smartest, most insightful man on the planet, but that means nothing if you don't understand how to talk to others. Simply put, it doesn't matter what you say if the manner in which you say it is a turn-off.

Even after I successfully emerged from my teenage seclusion, I still carried with me the attitude that I'd used as a self-defense mechanism during my lonelier years. With a few cups of negativity and a dash of unearned pomposity, it would need to be shed before anyone truly wanted to talk to or be around me on a regular basis.

And, on one balmy summer afternoon, I decided that it was time for a change. No longer would I be negative. No longer would I have an artificial ego. I began to say "please" and "thank you" at every opportunity, sometimes in excess. Every now and then, if the situation seemed appropriate, I'd throw in a "sir" or "ma'am." I held open doors for everyone. I even made a conscious effort to limit the number of negative words and phrases I used in conversation, such as "no" or "never" or "I hate [insert name of crappy band, movie or television show here]."

You know what? It worked. From girls in bars to customer service reps at the bank, people were immediately nicer and more receptive when I went out of my way to be nice to them.

After speaking to you, others should walk away feeling good about themselves. Don't make them feel less important to you. If need be, go out of your way to make them feel more important than you. Don't let them see your ego. Instead, do everything you can to boost their ego. Don't belittle anyone. Their opinions are just as valid as yours. And don't be miserable and mopey. No one's life is perfect, and they don't want to hear about your problems.

So, to sum up, here are a few basic things you need to do to become an internationally-acclaimed master pick-up artist like me…

1. Leave your comfort zone and meet people.

2. Drink heavily.

3. Read a few books, dumbass.

4. Be someone whom others want to be around.

Nice Guys vs. Jerks

While I was checking the Twitter (as the kids call it) earlier this evening, feverishly awaiting the next post from Ashton Kutcher, I happened to notice a link to the eHarmony.com blog, where they dissect many age-old relationship issues. In a post dated August 21, 2008, they ask the question, "Do Nice Guys Really Finish Last?" and I feel as though it is my duty as a certified relationship expert to offer my take.

While I lost interest in the article in question halfway through the first paragraph because of a lot of big words, so I'm not entirely sure what their point was, here's my opinion, and it is one of the main ideas of the How to Meet Broads system: Nice guys don't finish last. But little pansies who don't stand up for themselves do.

Once upon a time, men were cowboys and soldiers, dockworkers and bare-knuckle boxers. They drank and smoked and ate steaks dripping with the blood of a freshly-slaughtered cow. They conquered opposing tribes. They harnessed the power of fire. They build pyramids, then castles, then skyscrapers, all as monuments to their own greatness. And they never once stood in a fucking department store trying to pick out a goddamn bathmat.

These days, the male race, by and large, has been figuratively castrated. Blame psychology for encouraging men to not only have feelings, but to openly discuss them. Did John Wayne have unresolved mother issues? Hell no. Blame the combination of capitalism and technology for putting most men in a cubicle for nine hours a day, where they waste away typing up expense reports. Did John Dillinger spend his time emailing expense reports to his post-menopausal regional manager? Absolutely not. Blame American affluence and the health food movement of the Eighties for turning a large number of normally-heterosexual men into non-smoking, tofu-eating, Diet Fanta-drinking wusses. Did Ulysses S. Grant ever look out over a battlefield while sipping a glass of toxin-clearing pomegranate green tea? No fucking way.

Society has, in its genuinely noble effort to advance and prolong life, created a race of men who are, in truth, men by name only.

But humans remain animals and, as animals, our sole reason for being alive is to reproduce. Certainly, we have evolved as a species and will continue to do so, but as much as we've attempted – and, for the most part, succeeded – in the art of repression, we are still ultimately driven by our simple, reptilian brains and its animalistic impulses. Thus, what we are attracted to is a part of the genetic code that keeps humanity alive. This is why men will always naturally be drawn to the female with the ideal breast-to-waist ratio, indicating that she might be good for breeding. And what do women want, regardless of whether or not they consciously realize it?

Dudes.

Strong-willed, decisive and proud, dudes are the modern-day equivalent of the protectors of the tribe. Once upon a time, dudes killed wooly mammoths to provide food. They built thatch huts to provide shelter from the elements. 

These days, dudes drink beer and watch football with their male friends. They can fix cars, grill steaks and connect stereos. They don't fight, but if push came to shove, they would stand up for what's right. They would protect those to whom they are loyal at all time. They're smart enough to get by and strong enough to pick up a woman, carry her across a room and toss her onto the bed. 

In addition, dudes don't wax their chest. Or any other parts of their body. They don't cry a bit at the end of The Notebook. They don't talk about how much their shoes cost. Dudes don't go antiquing, and they don't own dogs that weigh less than thirty pounds.

Like the cowboys from whom they are descended, dudes are independent by nature and won't take shit from anyone, male or female.

The wussification of male culture is gradually killing the dude, but women, whether they choose to accept it or not, are naturally drawn to them. 

Nice guys don't finish last. 

Weak, sensitive pansies do.

Women at a Glance

Most men will readily admit that they don't understand women. But there are a handful of behavioral traits that are common throughout the female species, and being able to recognize and understand these traits will give you an advantage over your competition. Here a few universal facts about women that you may not know...

• Women like to talk about themselves.

• Women like chocolate.

• Women are not good at arm-wrestling.

• Women are secretly in love with their fathers.

• Women instinctively know how much bleach to use in a load of laundry.

• A woman's brain is thirty-percent smaller than the average male's, thus they can be outsmarted.

• Women pee from some indeterminate area in or around the vagina.