I’m going to be honest with you so you don’t feel that bad about yourself tomorrow. The truth is you never had a chance, when you think about it. That’s not to say you didn’t have a choice. You did, you could have walked away whenever you wanted, and you could have ended it with a polite, “nice to meet you”. You could have just given me your phone number. But I presented myself in such a way that you didn’t want our interaction to end. It all seemed pretty harmless, a chance encounter of two people who just happened to hit it off on a night like this in a bar like this. What you didn’t know and what I didn’t tell you is I’ve done this before. More precisely I’ve had this same conversation before. Not with you but with girls like you. For the past ten years of my life I’ve been practicing this skill, I’ve honed it, I know it frontwards and backwards. It doesn’t matter the answers you give me, they’re all variations of the same thing. This is like one of those choose your own adventure books but it doesn’t matter because all the endings are you in my bed and feeling slightly slutty in the morning.