Budapest: Day Three 0

Day three and I’m up and out early. My goal of 100 sets is now tangible and possible. There’s a remarkable clarity of purpose that comes when the weasel is vanquished. I scoff my breakfast and don’t dawdle: all the minutiae of nano-weasels that it’s possible to build into a day are voided.

In fact I’ve so anti-weaseled that I’m walking into town ridiculously empty and the streets are deserted. In a non-weasel way I’m sure it’ll take me hours to find a set… then I see a mid 20’s Hungarian girl with a lovely walk padding sensuously across the road. BOOM. No hesitation. I scoot round and inform her that she walks like a panther. She’s a yes girl. Massively so. In hindsight it was a 90% street K-close opportunity. I get her phone number and we provisionally agree to meet up the next day. She has lots of commitments but is mentally wriggling to try and make it work. A great start to the day.

I head into town and begin the day’s grind. I can’t afford to waste sets or time, so I stick to the kill-zone: the main streets with the most traffic. I start grinding. My AA is almost gone. Around 4pm I enter a kind of zen-like state. I feel calm, methodical and workman-like. My vibe is good. The ratio of opens to positive responses and Facebook-closes rapidly increases. I realize that I now have Number Farm Momentum , this quasi-mythical state that Tom and Krauser talk about.I don’t even stop for food. I grab the first of many delicious salmon quiches from one of the many Pauls that dot the Pest side of Budapest and guzzle it down on my feet. I stop a porky pretty girl in lovely retro clothes. She’s a massive-Yes girl and her eyes are like honey-coated embers; she’s almost orgasming from talking to me. Problem is she’s in a massive rush and I stupidly just take a Facebook not a phone number. Stupid. She never even accepts the add. Crazy.

I stop a HB8 girl with sprayed-on leggings, squash-ball ass and a yellow and black scarf. She’s Lithuanian. Can you guess the opener? Buzzzzzz… it goes well. I leave with details and kick myself for not bouncing to an idate.

Late in the day I’m almost at my daily quota. I spot the Lithuanian wandering through the shopping mall. Ah ha! A chance at redemption. I reopen and easily bounce to…. Paul…. for a coffee. I run mastery and mystery and we agree to meet for a quiet glass of wine that evening. Things are happening.. it’s starting to warm up.

I crank out a few more mundane sets then I’m done. I immediately turn heel and head home. A massive dish of roasted animals, sauerkraut, cabbage, three kinds of bread dumpling and several pints of £1 creamy dark beer await me. Job well done.

The Hungarian girl can’t meet that night. The Lithuanian wants to reschedule to the next evening. I check my emails and go to bed.