Part 1: I went on a date with a pick-up artist in Paris
A two-part series of breaking down walls to intimacy between men and women.
It’s the end of August in Paris. The large majority of Parisians have flocked to the coast for the month. The city is much quieter than usual except for the hum of regular tourists. I’m truly loving the pace of the quieter months.
It’s one of those blazing hot days with that dark blue rich sky above that I especially see in Europe. I’m on a solo adventure wandering around Paris. Some of my favourite days and summer days in an empty Paris with no agenda.
What can come to you when you wander around with an open heart?
I unexpectantly find myself in Tullieries gardens laying down behind a bush. There is a patch of shade and I have my giant Bose headphones on. I’m listening to this episode on grief that me and
have recorded a month or so prior.
I’m crying laughing because we’re crying laughing on the podcast (more about the JUICY podcast later) about the concept of a “pig in lipstick” essentially when things aren’t what they say they are.
My eyes are closed. When I open them there is a slightly handsome shadow of a man standing above me. I say slightly because it’s hard to see his face with the sun and I’m laying down and he is standing up.
He is saying something to me in French. I take one ear out and tell him I don’t understand. He starts speaking in English.
“I was really struck by you. You are absolutely beautiful. I hope you don’t mind me being so bold and approaching you.”
I’m caught off guard but I’m enjoying this man’s confidence. It felt playful with a strong hit of arrogance. I wasn’t turned off by it.
We exchange some pleasantries. The usual. How long have you lived here. He was surprised to find I was not a tourist. Which makes sense as Tulleries is a notorious place where a tourist would be. Also, the perfect environment for a male pick up artist to meet women.
He makes the request, “I’d love to take you out for a drink.” I give him my number and text a couple of close girlfriends. I describe him as extremely French, a little arrogant and cute.
There’s something off about him and I can’t put my finger on it. I’m curious and tuned in, and I’m also not a no.
I’m in a very open place when it comes to dating. I feel ready for deep love, available for adventure and surprised and inside me, it felt like I had just arrived in Paris as I lay there on the grass. There had been parts of me missing since moving here nearly three years ago and I was dutiful to my soul in reclaiming them.
Between the strange era of Covid, a super challenging health journey, hard-core business building and spiritual journey, working on different time zones for many years it had been a hard landing for me in Paris.
And this Summer’s day on the grass was the closest I’d felt to myself in a while.
When the text arrives late that night I thought it was odd to text so late. He asks to meet for a drink the next day. I say yes.
“You’re absolutely beautiful” are the first words upon our next meet. He looks me up and down, twirls me around and says “wow”.
I thank him.
As we walk towards the bar he makes another two or three comments about my appearance. I absorb them. Nothing goes in too deep and nothing slides off the surface either.
We sit down.
As I stare at him for a moment there’s a fleeting softness on his face and I think he is handsome. I also feel a subtle unease.
Our conversation is off to a firing start. We seem to have a lot to talk about but I can’t help noticing that it’s taking him about five minutes to begin negging me.
NEGGING
After dating in France for a while, it’s not uncommon for a French man to give a backhanded sarcastic compliment to a woman or gush about her beauty. Textbook negging.
But there’s something about this guy that feels over the top. He’s trying hard.
Every time the conversation seems to be reaching a little bit more depth, he brings the attention back to me.
I’m curious about what this man is looking for. He is showing up with a try-hard dose of romance but he is also giving off hungry teenager. It’s incongruent.
I decide to ask him.
He deflects the question and asks it back to me.
I indulge him and state clearly & directly that I’m dating and looking for a serious partner. I ear on the side of super direct because I’m getting this sense this man likes to play in the inbetween. It’s my first layer of protection.
He remarks that I’m one of those women looking for “the one”. It has an air of mockery to it. I hold my gaze on him and have a small smile on my face.
He’s expecting me to rebut his comment and I say nothing. When I ask him “and what about you?” his response is long and poetic.
Something about how this special school he goes to says that in life you should always be ready for life to unfold and never be trying to “make things happen”. His sermon on life as a surrender experiment felt disingeunine. I thought it was odd that he would have such a rehearsed answer.
I look at him and don’t say anything again. I notice a flash across his face. He dropped the mask for a second.
He’s back to being visibly uncomfortable and immediately brings the attention back to me. He asks me to close my eyes. It feels strange. I say no. He immediately shouts “I knew it. I knew you don’t trust me.”
I said “You’re right. I don’t trust you.”
He asks me why. I tell him, “well you’re clearly going to try and kiss me. Why don’t you just ask to kiss me?”
The whole interaction is like our energy is fighting each other. It’s obvious to me that he’s playing right out of the pick-up artist playbook. I don’t think it’s obvious to him that I have a genuine curiousty about him.
It becomes even more obvious when I feel a hand prematurely on my neck and then on my leg.
What is Pick-Up Artistry?
I’ve met many recovered pick-up-artists in my time and I’m a fan of Neil Strauss, the cultural king of Pick-Up Aristry. For context, Strauss wrote the very famous book The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists that pushed pick up artistry into the mainstream and later, a very personal and humble autobiography about his journey with sex addiction and his struggle in relationships in The Truth: An Uncomfortable Book About Relationships.
I’m not a fan of the movement per say, although it is fascinating and I have done a lot of research trying to reserve my judgement. In my time as a relationship & intimacy researcher, I’ve watched and studied Strauss’s journey, dated men who were former pick up artist’s before they realised that they didn’t actually know how to connect with women and have been interested in why this movement has garnered so much power in the early 2000s.
Without knowing if this was really his intention, The Game ended up becoming a sort of sacred text for men that came with a lot of heavy critiscm. Embedded with manipulation, I personally saw this book and movement change an entire generation of men. As a woman I had been approached by many a pick-up artist in my hometown of London, usually if I ever found myself in Picadilly Circus or Leicester Square, but I had never found myself on a date with one.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes” I say.
It’s an intense first kiss. It feels like he is kissing me and there’s no room for me to kiss him. He leans all the way in, pulls my head towards his and kisses me with a bit of force. I pull back and we’re back in the push and pull.
CONQUER VERSUS CONNECT
It feels like this man is here to conquer and not connect with me and it is pissing me off. I share this with him.
I ask him to slow down and I share that I want to kiss him. The second kiss is better, a little more sensous. More enjoyable for me. I get the sense that this man is uncomfortable with the intimacy that comes with two people being connection.
We get up and make our way to a new spot. His hand makes it way down to my ass and he squeezes tightly and with force. I freeze and stop walking. I adjust his hand and turn to him.
“Connect with me, feel my body. You’re groping me like I’m a toy to play with. I’m a woman.”
He stiffens his hand as I adjust him.
This essay is in three-parts. Make sure you are subscribed to receive part two in the coming weeks. If this touched you inside anywhere, please feel free to comment and write to me below.
This is so so captivating. I couldn’t stop reading..
Brava!! Well done, Liv. I love this piece.