7-To Get a Man, You Must Think Like a Man

And just as my day was about to end, Nicky’s was about to begin. She never thought she would live to see this day, but life had convinced her this was the best path to finding a husband. She had lowered herself to Charley’s level.

Charley – the serial dater and perennial jokester—was about to give Nicky advice on how to pick up men. They met inside Charley’s gym, which resembled more of a high-end health spa. The women pranced around in tight, fashionable outfits, while the men sported the typical T-Shirt and shorts uniform.

There wasn’t a beer belly in sight. Nicky glanced around the club and thought, these people don’t need a gym; they need a mirror. Nicky was never insecure around beautiful women, but she certainly felt the competition in the air. It reminded her of the girl’s locker room back in high school.

Nicky was waiting outside the men’s locker room when Charlie walked up. He was wearing baggy shorts and a Van Halen tshirt that was already wet on the chest. Nicky pointed to his sweaty shirt, knowing full well, they hadn’t even started working out yet, and he couldn’t have worked up a sweat yet.

Without prompting, Charley answered: “What? It’s water. Sweat doesn’t always come naturally. Sometimes you have to fake it.”

It was obvious pretty quickly that Charley wasn’t familiar with this gym. He walked into doors, then backtracked, unsure of where the different paths led. As he guided Nicky around the gym, he sounded like a frat boy, faking his way as a tour guide in a museum.

He was clearly out of place. He didn’t know which floor led where and how the equipment worked, but Nicky still followed and listened to everything he said.

“Rule number one of the pick-up game, remember all guys are always checking you out,” Charley said.

It was true, and Nicky noticed it. Through the mirrors, in the corner of their eyes, underneath the barbells, men gawked at Nicky as she walked by. Of course, this wasn’t new to her.

“Rule Number two. Guys don’t think,” Charley said.

“But you’re thinking right now,” Nicky said.

“No, I’m strategizing. Thinking involves intellect. Picking up involves strategy. You can’t just walk up to a girl and start talking about deep thoughts, and you can’t do that to a man,” Charley said.

“Are you kidding, have you ever tried that approach? Girls love to talk to guys about things of substance.”

“Stop,” Charley put his hand up like he was stopping a train. “You’re thinking like a girl now. Remember, you need to think like a guy. Be simple-minded. Elevate yourself.”

Nicky hadn’t seen this part of Charley before. He was so studious and sincere. It was like he was using his mind for a purpose, even though he didn’t see it like that.

Just then, Charley spotted a pretty, 20-something-year-old girl, running on a treadmill. She was wearing white and black stripped spandex shorts, a red sports bra and her fake blonde hair was pulled in a pony-tail that bounced with each step.

Charley smiled and looked at her like she was easy prey. Nicky waited for guidance, expecting mystical insight into the male brain as Charley surveyed the scene with precision.

It looked like the master and his apprentice.

“Watch and listen,” he said.

And Nicky did, with the utmost attention to detail.

Charley walked up to the adjacent treadmill, only it wouldn’t start when he got on it. He pressed several buttons and scanned the front panel on the machine. Finally, he looked at the woman running and smiled. She smiled back.

“Do you know where the on button is for this?” Charley asked.

“I’m sorry?” The woman took off her headphones.

“How do you get this thing to move?” Charley was pressing all of the buttons at once.

“Press Quick Start and start walking,” she said, putting back on her headphones. The woman clearly wasn’t interested, and now, neither was Nicky.

Nicky walked to the other side of the gym, and sat down on a weight bench when an attractive, muscular guy approached her. Nicky didn’t see him walk up to her.

“Do you need a spot?” he asked.

Nicky turned around and tapped the weight bench.

“No thank you. I’ve got one right here, but if you could just hold the bar and make sure it doesn’t fall on me, while I try and lift it.”

The man smiled and positioned himself to spot Nicky. He put 10-pound weights on each side of the bar, while Nicky laid on the bench.

“Where do you work?” Nicky asked casually.

“I’m a trainer here.”

“That’s sexy. Do you have any famous clients?” Nicky asked, as she lifted the bar.

“No, primarily everyday people – lawyers, doctors, television executives, finance guys,” he said.

Nicky quit lifting and put the bar back on the bench. She sat up. Her ears perked up.

“And how did you meet them?” She asked.

“I called them at work and offered my services.”

“And you got dates?” Wait, she thought, did I just say that? “I mean, you got appointments? How did you get their numbers and find them?”

“We keep a database of all our members,” the trainer said. “You’re on that list too. I can cold-call you, if you give me some clues on who you are.”

The trainer was clearly comfortable flirting with Nicky in front of other gym members. As he crossed his arms, his biceps stretched his shirt. He stood with his legs stretched a part.

Nicky smiled back, tilted her head, and crossed her legs on the weight bench when she heard Charley yelling her name from across the gym. He was waving for Nicky to meet him at the drinking fountain, unconcerned with the attention he was drawing on himself. Nicky apologized to the trainer for her “friend’s behavior,” emphasizing the word friend. She walked over to Charley at the drinking fountain.

“What are you doing?” Charley asked. “You can’t hit on the workers. That’s like, like hitting on the waitress. This is a classy joint. You can’t do that.”

“You hit on waitresses all the time.”

“Yeah, but never the waitress at my table,” Charley said. “Besides, I found the perfect lesson for you. Follow me.”

Charley walked up to a mat where a pretty woman was doing sit-ups by herself. Nicky watched their interaction in the mirror, wondering how the woman would respond to his advances. After a minute of doing his own push-ups next to her, Charley reached down to tie his shoes.

“I really like your shoes,” he said.

It sounded odd, especially since the woman was wearing regular, white running shoes that were nothing out of the ordinary.
“Thank you. I like your shoes too,” she said, smiling. The woman moved her hair behind her ears.

“I’ve been looking for a new pair of running shoes. These high tops aren’t cutting it anymore. Any suggestions on where I could find a good pair, like yours?”

Charley said it with such earnest. Nicky couldn’t believe her ears. If the girl falls for this, she thought, all hope is lost for smart women like me.

“Actually, my best friend manages a Sports Authority in Union Square. Maybe she can give you a discount on your next pair of shoes. If you want, I can give you her number,” she said. “Tell her we’re friends and she’ll give you the employee discount.” The woman was buying into Charley’s pitch and Nicky was now shaking her head in disbelief.

“I would love her number,” Charley pulled a pen and paper from his shorts. As the woman wrote down the phone number,
Charley winked at Nicky in the mirror.

He might not have gotten this woman’s number, but he got a woman’s number.