Why Being Short is an Asset in Pickup, Part 1

After breaking up with the girl I brought to that play from the intro post, I was out at a college bar in West Hollywood. I was working on my game in an environment very uncomfortable to myself. I was 31, though I looked younger (being short helps me maintain youthful looks), hanging around people ten years younger. I am a classical music buff, barely ever drink, and didn’t have any friends below 28. This brightly lit, loud bar playing cheesy 80s rock, with stupid drinking games and stupider kids was exactly not my scene.

There were really, really hot college girls there, though. That helped motivate me.

So I’m approaching. I’m just doing it. Diving in. Working on my skillset. Battling through the discomfort. Hell, battling through the fear. Half the guys are over six feet. Many are twice as broad as me. A jock scene . . . in fact it seems like the crowd is constantly, physically above me. You short readers know the feeling. Guys shorter than average are more rare in nightlife. After about three approaches, I’m in the swing of things and my biological impulses (“The chieftain will surely kill you if you approach these fertile females of the tribe!’) are a murmuring, tiny static in the background. Then I see her.

Huge, luminescent green eyes sparkling against her tan skin under chestnut shoulder-length straight hair. About 5’7″, slender but with noticeable curves in her tight jeans and tight baby T. Her back is against a pillar and she has the look of a queen on her throne, slightly bemused by her fawning courtiers.

The reason for this expression became clear as I looked at the mass of muscle bulk before her. Four enormous jocks formed a semicircle around her. These guys were all above 6’3″ and 220 lbs. I was warmed up, so immediately I saw my window.

What is that window? Let me explain here. Space is not equal. For my best friend growing up, who is now 6’5″, the world is a little place, full of cramped spaces in vehicles and uncomfortable closeness. You’re constantly moving away from people so you just have a bit of room to maneuver and not fall down, because your center of gravity is so high. When you talk to someone, the natural distance to stand away is maybe 3 feet or more.

I’m 5’7”. For me, the world is spacious and easy. A queen bed is a huge space where a girl my size and I can sprawl at will. Car and plane seats are comfortable and relaxing. My personal space is rarely impinged. I can stand six inches away from someone and they don’t feel threatened or weird.

So back to the jocks. If they were closer than about 3 feet to the girl, she would feel these huge monsters looming over her. So naturally they are a comfortable distance away. Meanwhile, it would be kind of gay if they were closer than about two feet from each other.

Two feet is a big space for me. I saw that girl through the window and slid through. There’s a solid chunk of space for me to stand (with my back to the guys) and deliver my high impact opener. Immediately 100% of her attention is on me. Why?

  1. It’s ballsy to interrupt any interaction. It’s ballsier if that interaction is between four guys and a girl. It’s even ballsier if the girl is hot, you’re short, and the guys could lift a mid-size sedan clear off Santa Monica Boulevard.
  2. My material is probably better than anything those dunderheads were saying. This is an advantage all pickup artists have over run-of-the-mill guys.
  3. My clothes and presence were out of the ordinary. My outfit was pretty outlandish at the time (not saying that’s a good thing per se) and my energy level was definitely a notch higher than the jocks’ boring vibe.
  4. I was touching her immediately, while the jocks were too busy trying not to scare her.

After about twenty seconds, I had not been cockblocked, so I took a quick glance around me. The guys had just melted away. I find that happens a lot. My tall friends tend to rouse the ire of guys a lot more. That’s what I’ll be discussing in the next blog post in this series.


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