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How I Became a Famous Pickup Artist : Part 2

This is a continuation of the story, How I Became a Famous Pickup Artist Part 1. If you haven't read that already, you should do so before reading this article.

Papa was notorious for being in contact with everyone in the pickup scene. I couldn't blame him, either - he was the business side of "Real Social Dynamics", a company that taught seminars and workshops to aspiring players. Not surprisingly, he was the only person at the seminar that I knew.

In order to extract every last precious second out of my experience, I had gotten on the earliest flight to Chicago that I could book. I called Papa when I arrived at the hotel at 10am. I could hardly make out his voice. He'd been out in the clubs until very late and was still sleeping.

Bus Stop "Something on the Roof"

On Wellington Street

Last night I met a woman at the bus stop that sits on Wellington Street. She was loaded down with bags, to the point where I was unable to find a place to sit. It was raining, and the storm was only getting worse, making me wish I had stayed home. The woman was a terrible mess, and it was clear that she had left in a hurry, her bags being mismatched and without any sort of order. I asked her where she was headed, and she admitted she had no idea. She was unsure when the bus was supposed to arrive, though she seemed anxious to know.

I told her that it would be arriving soon, and it was clear to me that the delay made her nervous. When I asked her if everything was alright, she broke down crying, pointing at a house down the block. This is the story she shared with me.

Three weeks ago my husband and I began hearing noises in the night. At first we though it was just the rain. It had been raining a lot lately. But the night after that long stretch, the sound of pattering on the roof returned, and when we looked out the window we saw nothing but a clear sky.

My husband and I went outside. Our kids hadn't been woken up thankfully. I found myself breathing heavily, the hairs on the back of my neck rising. I tried hard to control the trembling that was going through my body, hoping my husband wouldn't notice. It didn't take very long to tell he was trying to hide his own fear, and that only made it worse. I turned around every couple of feet, but I saw nothing. Soon I was in the middle of the street, looking up at my roof. I could hear faintly the light noise, like a heavy rain, but nothing was there.

We figured it was just some squirrels. There are a lot of them in the neighborhood, and they are hard to see at night. But as we went to go inside, I could feel myself growing more anxious. By the time we reached the front door, I was shaking, my hands coated in sweat. Had my kids not been inside, and had I not convinced myself I was acting crazy, I may have just left the house then and not come back...I did go back inside though an soon after that the sound stopped.

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