The art of being a good wingman

I met up with Sean on Sunday evening. We've known each other for a few years. Sean's been in Australia for a few months; travelling about, learning to scuba dive, shagging girls. General British tourist behaviour in Australia.

So, we met up in Sydney city centre, mooched about, ate a few burgers, watched a thoroughly uninspiring, unenthuasiastic guy from the West Country perform a "circus trick" where he sat on a bmx on a maypole 10 ft above the ground and juggled a knife, a flaming percussion mallet and an apple (one of my friends, Adam, standing next to me also watching said "hahaha wow, look at that, he's just eating the fucking apple. What a load of shit!". In between my laughter all I could say was "yeah, he's probably hungry"). Bizarrely the performer also suggested to me, out loud, to jump in front of the little passenger train car that was going past, and he then had a go at a little boy for playing with a rope and posited to the crowd that the mum of the little boy was an alcoholic! He also asked for $10 payment, each! I gave 2 dollars and Sean maybe 3 or 5 and we walked away talking about how he could've improved his act. We didn't even waste our constructive criticism on him.
Anyway, the story. Sean and I decided to go on a little pub crawl round Sydney city centre. We played some pool, had some beers and by 10pm, through luck, loud drunken behaviour and our combined "hot girl finding abilities" we had found a bar with 2 Christmas parties, and a ratio of probably 1 guy to 8 women.
Things started off...well. Chatted to two MILFs at the bar about cocktails, ordered some beers, indulged in loud and gratuitous conversations (including offensive and possibly gratuitous arm movements) and Sean got asked to take a photo for two girls. In return I asked them to take a photo of Sean and I, and then for good measure I asked them to pose with Sean. Thinking about it we did probably scared these girls off with our slightly sex pest behaviour. But I did get Sean into a photo with them. My work as a wingman was complete, so I thought.
After the girls left to go over to their Christmas party and join a gaggle of other hot girls, we sat down at a table proclaiming to each other about our suspicions of their questionable, loose morals and about how they probably hate drunk English guys anyway, and surveying the bar area and providing a detailed repraisal and classification of the girls there, and picking out examples to illustrate our points. For instance, we both agreed that girls with brown hair were good looking. We went back to our drinks. A moment later a girl sashayed past our table who had visually aided us. She smiled at us, waved and pushed away from here friends. Sean immediately invited her to sit at our table - she hestiated for 2 seconds, said "umm ok, my Christmas party is a bit boring. You look more interesting!" and jumped on to a spare seat at our table. We talked for a while and then Sean got up and said "i need the toilet" and left the table. This girl, Chloe (20 years old, from Queensland and about to go live there next week), and I kept chatting some more, Sean came back, I asked her to get us some free drinks (she had a "free bar" wrist band). She tried to get the free drinks, but wasn't able to, and then said she had to go back to her Christmas party for a few minutes. She went away and Sean leaned over to me and said "dude , I didn't even NEEEEED to go to the toilet! I was setting you up. Being a good wingman. You look like you're getting on well".
Well, with those magic words, things could only get better. They didn't.
Chloe came back with a friend of hers, a 21 year old girl, also good looking, but quite well travelled (she had been to France, Austria, Switzerland, Fiji, Thailand). This newcomer wasn't that enthusiastic to join in discussions about anything about other people or iPhones (she got her phone out, I looked at her, she looked at me and then said "do you have an iPhone?". My reply of "no, cos the fat guy down the gym that sweats alot, openly talks to strangers about stealing money, wears a vest and works as security guard in some shelter for drunk teenagers has one too" was met with "well I have an iPhone 4". Touché.)
Soon another of Chloe's friends joined us and sensing her abhorrence of the situation, Chloe, Sean and I swapped phones numbers and the girls left.
Sean and I left too, to go to another bar. To break the journey up a bit Sean suggested we go to a children's playground, and while we were playing on the swings and climbing frame, Sean sent Chloe a text just to see what she was up to. A few hours later he had arranged a date with her.
Sometimes the art of being a great wingman lies in the ability to be patient and not realising that you are performing in the role oif a wingman.



Shout out to Mark B too and a picture dedication. A while ago we had a conversation about Australian beers and how our local pub probably sold this certain brand. Little Creatures. It didn't, and so I doubted its existence. It also became a small amusement to ask newcomers to ask for a pint of Little Creatures.

I found this beer on Friday ah. Mark, I'm sorry for doubting you!