A buddy is a study in contrasts. He likes to do the opposite of whatever the masses are doing, but without the pretension that often characterizes iconoclasts. The idea, as he puts it, is to transgress social norms in one medium while following them in another, parallel medium, to disorient women and pique their interest.
For instance, he wears a deep red t-shirt on St Patty’s Day to go out in, while everyone else is dressed in a shade of green. Naturally, this draws the attention of hungry poon, particularly the girls who are up for a deep tissue flirtation. A girl walks over and gives him shit about his shirt, he smiles and, rather than smugly going off on not being Irish or how he’s too autistic to celebrate ethnic holidays in post-racial American, he says “eh, green makes me look washed out” or “I’m color blind. Feel better?” Or he might self-incriminatingly reply, “I’m a nonconformist prick.”
Opposite George Game — “I’m unemployed and bald and live with my parents” — can juice your bantz to incredible heights as long as you avoid even a hint of defensiveness, discomfort, or trepidation, and you don’t take yourself, or your marks, too seriously.
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