The Apocalypse Opener.

It was called the "Apocalypse Opener".

"Hey," I said.

She was sitting at a small metal bistro table, nursing an orange drink and reading a best seller about bdsm. I figured my chances were good. She looked up.

"Hey," she said.

"How are you?"

"Pretty good. You?"

"Not bad. What are you doing later?"

She lifted an eyebrow at me and cocked her head and smiled almost imperctibly.

"Um, nothing," she said.

"Do you want to come home with me?"

Let's pause. In the Apocalypse Opener, this is the key. The moment, or the series of moments really. You had to stick the landing, so to speak. Drop that line and HOLD. Don't blink. Don't waver. Don't change the subject. At most, you were allowed to minimally react to her moment of pause.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

I held my nonchalant look. I had to show that I didn't care what her answer was. I did and I didn't. If it didn't work, there were plenty of beautiful women around to try again. If it did, well fuck, this woman was gorgeous.

Her questioning look deepend, but she didn't speak.


HOLD MOTHERFUCKER, HOLD.

She put her bookmark in the book.

"Are you asking me if I want to come to your place to fuck you?"

I lifted my eyebrow, as if impatient. My moment of minimal reaction. HOLD!

She set her book down. Arched her back slightly. Looked into my eyes, and her smile remained.

"How do I know you aren't a killer?"

As if that was the only thing holding people back. I kept my gaze and shrugged only slightly. HOLD.

She stood up. Looked me up and down. I wasn't in the best shape, but the Apocalypse opener was about confidence, not so much presentation.

"I don't know," she said.

"Okay. Have a nice afternoon." I turned and began to walk away. Only steps passed before:

"Wait."

I turned. "Yeah?"

"Do you have a condom?"

I smiled. I didn't. I just wanted to see if it would work. "You missed your chance," I said.

"What?"

"Sorry."

I walked toward the beach. It was getting hot.