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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.

City Girl Goes Country

On City Goes Country

My intentions with this blog is to record and share my adventures of me, a city girl, living in a country world. But before I do that maybe I should explain how on earth I met a man 2,500 miles away that made me decide to move from Southern California to little 'ol South Carolina. And no the answer is not the internet. Let me start with a short back story to help all this make sense.

I grew up doing ballet in California. I had grown very attached to one of my long time ballet teachers. Her and her husband decided to take a drive up the east coast one summer for vacation and just happened to find a tiny town in South Carolina to stay the night. They instantly fell in love with the charm of the town and decided that it was where they would retire. I was devastated to hear that one of my favorite teachers was going to be moving all the way across the country. So since then, I've tried to go visit her in her new, quite large, old southern home at least once a year. And here is where my story truly begins.

It was supposed to just be another visit to see my dance teacher, I never thought I would meet a guy. My friend had come with me this time. Driving through the small town, my friend and I saw a small bar that looked more like a dive. It was old and from the looks of the outside, run down. Just weird enough to pique our curiosity. We googled the bar and found its Facebook page. It happened to be shag night. No I don't mean shag the way the British use it, it is a type of dance they do in the Carolinas. Both of us being dancers, we were hooked and had to go check it out.

It was July and it was as hot and humid as hell. My legs were so sticky from sweat that I had to take a shower before my jeans would even think about sliding on. After getting dolled up, my friend and I jumped in the car and headed to the tiny tavern.

We walked into the bar to find that we were the youngest by about 20 years. No matter, we sat down and ordered a drink and watched the shag club get their groove on. After a couple of drinks we were ready to dance, but we wanted to do our own dancing. We requested a country song and performed a line dance that we both knew. The shag club went wild! When we were done one of the ladies came over and asked where we were from because she knew we couldn't be from around there. And when we told her California, she said, "what the hell are you doing here?" We laughed, explained, and got another drink.

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