tools we needed to become fully effective social beings. Now, decades later,it was time to acquire them.Mystery went around the table and looked at each of us. "What kind ofgirls do you want?" he asked Sweater.Sweater pulled a piece of neatly folded notebook paper out of hispocket. "Last night I wrote down a list of goals for myself," he said, unfoldingthe page, which was filled with four columns of numbered items. "Andone of the things I'm looking for is a wife. She needs to be smart enough tohold up her end of any conversation and have enough style and beauty toturn heads when she walks into a room.""Well, look at you," Mystery said. "You look average. People think ifthey look generic, then they can seduce a wide array of women. Not true.You have to specialize. If you look average, you're going to get average girls.Your khaki pants are for the office. They're not for clubs. And yoursweater—burn it. You need to be bigger than life. I'm talking over the top. Ifyou want to get the 10s, you need to learn peacock theory."Mystery loved theories. Peacock theory is the idea that in order to attractthe most desirable female of the species, it's necessary to stand out ina flashy and colorful way. For humans, he told us, the equivalent of thefanned peacock tail is a shiny shirt, a garish hat, and jewelry that lights upin the dark—basically, everything I'd dismissed my whole life as cheesy.When it came time for my personal critique, Mystery had a laundry list
of fixes: get rid of the glasses, shape the overgrown goatee, shave the expensively
trimmed tumbleweeds on my head, dress more outrageously, wear a
conversation piece, get some jewelry, get a life.
I wrote down every word of advice. This was a guy who thought about
seduction nonstop, like a mad scientist working on a formula to turn
peanuts into gasoline. The archive of his Internet messages was 3,000 posts
long—more than 2,500 pages—all dedicated to cracking the code that is
woman.
"I have an opener for you to use," he said to me. An opener is a prepared
script used to start a conversation with a group of strangers; it's the first
thing anyone who wants to meet women must be armed with. "Say this
when you see a group with a girl you like. 'Hey, it looks like the party's over
here.' Then turn to the girl you want and add, 'If I wasn't gay, you'd be so
mine.'"
A flash of crimson burned up my face. "Really?" I asked. "How is that
going to help?
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