Around The World
In 80 Babes!
Nige 54
80-babes-book.com
Dedicated to Woody, Brett, Marco and Rodney. To Hamish and Ian in the U.K. and to Andy and Drew in L.A.
These are my best mates who were the reason, the inspiration and the major factors that made this period of my life so unforgettable.
You guys are the greatest...let’s party again soon.
CONTENTS
1. The Awakening 1
2. Becoming “Nige 54” 5
3. Let’s Start the Insanity – it’s Contiki Time! 27
4. How to Get Laid – All of the Time! 49
5. Greek Island Madness 64
6. Wild Times in Western Europe 78
7. The Unqualified “Qualified Accountant” 88
8. The Beginning of a Love Story? 91
9. The Return of the Contiki King 105
10. Start Spreading the News… 117
11. U.S.A. U.S.A. U.S.A! 131
12. La La Land 90210 146
13. You Can’t Do That in Vancouver! 157
14. When the End is Just the Beginning 167
Acknowledgements 184
CHAPTER 1
The Awakening
Having just brought my girlfriend to her third orgasm during an intense forty minute session, I simply could not be bothered turning her over into every guy’s favourite position and finishing this Saturday night like every one that had preceded it for the last ten months. I had recently turned twenty-three, the year 1998 had a couple of months before its conclusion and even bending over my hot babe of a girlfriend failed to hold my interest. I therefore pretended to collapse from exhaustion and now lying there unable to sleep, I realised that I could not even decide whom I wanted in my dreams. Surely, this could not be good.
Do you remember 1998? It wasn’t really much of “news year” was it? There were no major wars or epidemics nor were there any groundbreaking developments in international policy or world diplomacy. Infact 1998 seemed such a trivial news year that the two biggest stories that emerged were Bill Clinton’s cigar antics with Monica Lewinski and the end of my favourite TV show – ‘Seinfeld’.
Of course, if you were married, gave birth or someone close to you died, perhaps that year brings back a rollercoaster of emotions. For me, 1998 did hold some significance as I graduated from university with two hard-earned degrees and had started my career with the world’s biggest accounting firm. But eight months into this career as a graduate accountant (an auditor in the Financial Services division to be exact), I considered the entire year unemotional and lacking in pace as life just did not seem to be “happening.”
Furthermore, in fourteen months time it would be the Year 2000 and it seemed that everyone was waiting in anticipation for this moment. The party invitations were already stuck to the fridge and the Y2K solutions were in place. However, the anticipation of the new millennium also failed to hold any interest as I wondered exactly what I would be celebrating if my life continued in the same mundane direction.
I wanted a life like Michael Jordan, Tom Cruise or Jon Bon Jovi. These guys lived the ultimate existence because when they were my age Michael would be scorching the Knicks for forty points, Tom had just starred in “Top Gun” and Jon travelled the world with one of the most popular rock ‘n’ roll bands of all time. Approaching the age when these guys had “made it,” I started to wonder where my talent lay. Where were all of the exciting times that were apparently certain to come my way if I worked hard and became employed by a top tier firm? Would working there actually enable me to make any kind of difference in this world and above all else, shouldn’t I be shagging a greater variety of babes?
Lying in bed and now unmotivated to even sleep, I acknowledged the sad fact that life just did not seem all that interesting unless you were a sports hero, movie star or rock ‘n’ roll god. In addition, the current economic boom meant that you could be further categorised as “behind the times” unless you were also the recently self-appointed Chief Executive Officer of a new dot com venture that you had made up overnight, listed the next day, and according to your local stock exchange – already had a net worth of ten million dollars!
Now, I admit that perhaps I was expecting way too much. Maybe I had to accept that this was my life…I clenched my teeth and buried my head in the pillow as I could never accept that argument. After having slaved through four years of accounting and finance exams while sweating through a ridiculous amount of first, second and final round interviews with a variety of top class firms, I deserved more!
Thinking back to my first day at work, I was positive I had walked in with an open mind and “the world is my oyster” mentality. Then with the right attitude, I had chased managers on a daily basis and continued to be amazed at the lack of work coming my way even after I had changed divisions in search of more dynamic assignments. The approaching summer heat meant that our “busy time” loomed, yet my days were still punctuated by filling in fax letterheads, the cover pages for audit files or five-page long appraisal forms so I would be reviewed on assignments I had been involved in for the grand total of two and a half days! Could there be a better definition of the phrase “bored shitless?”
On a personal level, my social life did not excite me that much either. I was two days away from ending a ten month relationship (my longest yet) with the babe sleeping next to me and while I loved pounding her athletic body, she bored me to tears with her desires to spend Saturday AND Sunday mornings going for walks and picnics. Sure, I could handle this on the odd occasion and sometimes even enjoyed being romantic, but I had always been of the belief that after a hard week of filing audit confirmations and planning memos, that Saturday and Sunday mornings were for sleep. I should be either recovering after a huge night out on the town with the boys or rolling over for a morning shag as I basked in the glow of not having to find the motivation to get out of bed and report to my uninspiring managers.
To make matters worse, my two best mates were currently overseas shagging their butts off with anything that pricked its ears up to an Aussie accent. My buddy of twenty-one years, Brett, had struck the jackpot a couple of years ago by scoring a role on a popular Australian soap that gave him more money, fame and sex than he had ever imagined. He recently phoned me from London during the after party of the pantomime he had finished performing and in a drunken hysteria informed me about the ridiculous amounts of money he was earning and the glamorous babes he had shagged. My other mate, Adam (Woody, Ads, Woodmeister - he had a stack of nicknames) was also in London partying with Brett after spending most of the year working around America in his father’s business. So there they were in London, Brett and Woody, celebrating their unrestricted access into the best nightclubs, the free drinks, an endless supply of babes and they were leaving on a ski trip to Austria in three days time! Whereas I remained in Melbourne showing them how two university degrees earned after four years of hard work could make life so enjoyable. I drifted off to sleep dreaming of a lifestyle that was the exact opposite to my current existence.
A few weeks later, when the 98/99 summer officially arrived things did improve. After detaching myself from the picnic lifestyle and knowing that I could now fart freely in bed, I became a happy man. In addition, I had started seeing a lot more of my good friend Danielle as we re-established our role of “shagging pals” first ventured into about fifteen months ago. I just loved going out to various establishments with a quality babe knowing that I could behave any way I wanted and would still be receiving a whole lot of wild action at the end of the night AND as much sleep as I wanted the next morning. Danielle and I often described ourselves as the “Jerry and Elaine” of our friendship group and having recently left a complicated situation with “some guy,” Danielle also loved the guilt free sex. She saw this arrangement as a great release from her flourishing career as a fashion designer that kept her unbelievably busy during the week, while I saw it as the highlight to what had been an otherwise non-eventful week in the world of auditing.
On this particular occasion, a Saturday night in early December, Danielle demanded we see the newly released movie ‘54’ starring Ryan Phillippe, Neve Campbell, Salma Hayek and Mike Myers. Danielle had been looking forward to seeing ‘54’ ever since she saw the previews while I knew nothing about the film apart from it being based on a nightclub in New York back in the 70s. However, I suppose that is why I became immediately interested to see the movie because earlier in the year I had been totally mesmerised by ‘Boogie Nights’, a movie that focussed on the same era. ‘Boogie Nights’ had blown me away with its depiction of people becoming involved in porn with the hope that it would catapult them into a better lifestyle so they could then chase their real life passion. It is a strange comparison but this had been the exact same reason I had started work with a large accounting firm. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life or how to achieve it, so I viewed my position at the firm as some kind of catapult.
When Danielle and I sat down and ‘54’ began, I found myself becoming addicted to a life I wanted as my own. Here was Shane, an average guy from a working class family in New Jersey who became tired of going to the same bars, with the same guys trying to pick up the same girls. His friends were content with their position in life whereas Shane wanted more. For him, the dream was located across the Hudson River in New York City at a place called Studio 54. To gain entry into Studio 54 you had to have the right look for that particular evening and if selected from the hoards of partygoers packing the footpaths outside the velvet ropes, you entered the ultimate nightclub experience. The slogan written across the front doors of Studio 54 read, “In here life is beautiful” and for Shane it was “the place” to be.
Those who have seen ‘54’ will know that it is by no means the best movie ever made but it does highlight how Shane turned his life around and achieved his dream. Once achieved and reality kicked in, his dream would crumble due to an excess of sex, drugs and a disco beat that engulfed those willing to sample the temptations. Nevertheless, during this time Shane experienced heaven and in turn, the memories and the lessons learned would help place his future in a positive direction that never would have been possible unless he had made the initial decision to change.
Now why wasn’t I doing that?
Danielle and I discussed this at great length after the movie because this would be the question that burnt a hole deep inside me. Throughout “54,” I realised that I too needed to turn my life around because I wanted a version of the lifestyle not only experienced by the characters in the film, but the actors that played them. In real life, Ryan Phillippe and Neve Campbell were all my age. They had the ultimate lifestyle involving fame, money and all the sex they wanted and they were my age! Even my mates overseas who had a severely watered down version of this were dominating in every aspect of their lives and they were both MY AGE!
The following Monday, I arrived at work early and searched the internet for Studio 54 websites to discover more about the history of this club and the lifestyle it promoted. Amongst the many links, I came across a website dedicated solely to Studio 54 where people had added various stories and comments about their experiences. Reading about their adventures reminded me of many scenes in the actual movie with one main theme standing out. During the late 70s, being a regular at Studio 54, let alone working there as the head barman like Shane was thrilling yet romantic, engrossing yet intriguing but above all else, that period of approximately eighteen months when Studio 54 was at its height, had been described by many as “absolute heaven.”
I knew immediately what I wanted! Too short to be a basketball star like Mike, I could not act like Tom and I definitely could not sing like Jon, but if I could experience a time in my life that could be defined as “absolute heaven”, even if it was in some way destructive to my long-term goals, I had to find it.
No actually, trying to find it could result in a fruitless search - I had to create it! I had to create my own version of “absolute heaven”.
CHAPTER 2
Becoming “Nige 54”
Part 1
Eighteen months later, I boarded a plane to begin a ten-month round world trip and the creation of my “absolute heaven.” Starting in London with a twenty-nine day Contiki tour throughout Europe, I would then travel to the Greek Islands, have my birthday at the Oktoberfest before returning to London and working in a first class nightclub similar to Studio 54. Once accomplished, I would then ski in Austria, travel extensively throughout America, parts of Canada and perhaps even visit Hawaii on my way home. From soaking up the sun on babe filled foreign beaches to skiing kilometre after kilometre of knee-deep powder, my goals were clear - I wanted to do it all! No matter the obstacles or the challenges presented before me, this was MY TIME and every day would be more memorable than the one it proceeded because I would possess an attitude identical to the title of the very popular Bon Jovi track, ‘I’ll Sleep When I’m Dead!’
Yet even though I possessed this attitude, I knew that nothing could promise success in my travels and the fear of failure or even worse, just “an ok time,” did concern me. However, what I did know was that I had a fair chunk of my salary saved from the last two and a half years and an unbridled determination that had been the major factor assisting me to turn my life around since my awakening in December 1998.
Back then, when I first realised that I wanted to experience this “absolute heaven,” I knew that it would not happen by immediately quitting my job with the firm, jumping on a plane to New York and finding work in a nightclub that in some way resembled Studio 54. That would be foolish. I needed time to plan how I would create this “absolute heaven” and then, when I had decided the opportunity existed overseas, I wanted the chance to prepare myself physically and mentally. Most people who travel the world use the experience to “come of age” and then move onto bigger and better things upon their return. But to have experiences that are more remarkable than those before me, I needed to be different. I wanted to first “come of age” and then travel.
My parents supported this ideology but continuously reminded me that eventually I would return to reality and would need something to fall back on. My parents had been saying this my entire life, but surprisingly this time, I agreed with them. So like it or not, I had to turn my current career into something substantial. This would take time…but then, so do all good things.
As the year 1998 ended and 1999 arrived, Danielle and I reverted to just being friends. Our priorities had changed so we once again became the non-sexual version of “Jerry and Elaine”. On the workfront, for the first time since I joined the firm, my workload intensified and my spare time began to diminish thanks to more accounting studies. It is common practice that after working for an accounting firm for twelve months, one is required to sit the exams necessary to become a qualified accountant. By qualified I mean accredited by the Australian Institute of Chartered Accountants. It is similar to being CPA qualified and is called the Professional Year or PY. This program consists of five exams, situated three to four months apart and assuming you pass each exam on your first attempt, you will be qualified after approximately eighteen months. Zippadee-do-da-day!
The PY has a reputation of being “absolute hell” because just when you are settled into the corporate lifestyle and have involved yourself in numerous after work activities, you find every aspect of your lifestyle again restricted. You have returned to the confinement of the same desk where you spent the majority of your university years and life really does not seem all that pleasant. I thought that once I had graduated from university I would be finished with all this crap. Sure, I knew that the PY awaited me, but I had underestimated how much it would impede my favourite pastime of getting shitfaced and chasing chicks.
The clear advantage of going through the pain to complete the PY was a decent increase in salary and a promotion. You also become more employable on the open market and your opportunities increase, especially overseas. I doubted that I would use this qualification when I travelled overseas – just show me where the beach, beer and babes are – but I thought I would give this thing a crack as I had nothing to lose. The first exam I became eligible to complete was the tax exam held in March of 1999. Considered the hardest of the five exams, most graduates waited until the next exam to begin their PY. I, on the other hand, saw this as a great opportunity because if I passed this exam on my first attempt, I would be ahead of my year group and everything else should be downhill from there.
I therefore spent the months of January and February studying, rather than at the beach, and I sat the exam in early March. I left the examination feeling quite confident that I had passed and now the time had arrived to make up for the lost party time sacrificed over the last two months. Fortunately, Brett had recently arrived back in the country flush with money and endless tales of mad-capped adventures after completing the pantomime season in London. His stories overwhelmed me with envy because all I could contribute to our initial conversation was an explanation as to why I had spent most of the summer studying. Anyway, that time had now passed as Brett considered himself on holidays (unemployed in actor terms) and I had six weeks until the Institute released my results. The time had come to tear up old Melbourne town.
From our first night out, our performances would have made the highlight reel as we experienced night after night of drinking and debauchery. I informed Brett of the new ‘54’ mentality that demanded we set the standards high which complemented our ability to capitalise on Brett’s fame. Some may laugh or scoff and ask “what fame” but many would be surprised how many sweet and innocent mega babes are just dying to sleep with an ex-soap star. However, with Brett now entrenched in a serious relationship with an English West End star, he beautifully deflected anything coming his way in my direction. To add to the entertainment I would not be declaring myself as an accountant or an auditor. Instead, I portrayed myself as the “new boy” on Australia’s favourite soap opera with my performances hitting the screens in a few weeks time. Now if you think the babes were eager to taste the delights of an ex-soap star, how keen do you think they were towards the apparent “new boy”?
Our game plan worked beautifully and after a few weeks, my confidence became sky high. That high in fact I had no problem propositioning a familiar looking babe I bumped into on the dance floor during a session of some serious boogie. I had actually spent many a heated evening with her older sister a couple of years ago and normally just the thought of being with the younger sister would result in some serious backlash from one or both sisters. But I backed myself and it was only the next morning that I realised what a rare feat I had accomplished with thankfully little, if any fear of backlash. Simply spread each sister a few years apart, explain to the younger sister that the older sister was “so long ago” and provided you have the necessary charm, you are laughing - or screaming with joy, whichever the case.
On the physical side of things, I had started going to gym more often and my work basketball team was dominating its division. We had gone through the season undefeated and had cruised our way through the finals. However, the grand final was a different story as we had underestimated our opposition. We found ourselves looking at an embarrassing defeat as half time saw us twenty points in arrears. But a strong second half led by some huge three pointers from yours truly had us only a point down with a minute to go. We had possession going into the final thirty seconds and I looked for the game winner even though the opposition’s best defender wore me like a second singlet. So instead of taking the high-risk basket, I faked the shot, passed inside to our wide-open centre and the game was ours!
Adding to this jubilation, my parents informed me over dinner that evening they would be travelling overseas later in the year for approximately six weeks. This news could only be categorised as “all good” because my parents’ absence presented the perfect opportunity to organise a porn party under the title of one of my favourite movies – ‘Boogie Nights’. This idea had been brewing since I saw the movie about a year ago and finally the opportunity had presented itself. I became determined to make my ‘Boogie Nights’ party THE party of the year. Later that night, I joined my victorious basketball team at the captain’s house to watch the replay of the game. After watching my M.V.P. performance, I felt invincible and with PY results released in a few days time and even more celebrations planned, 1999 looked like developing into the groundbreaking year I had been yearning for.
Part 2
PY result day is traditionally spent at the pub from lunchtime onwards. The Institute releases results at 4.30pm so everyone drinks until it is time to make the walk from the pub up to the Institute of Chartered Accountants. The amount of alcohol, the anxiousness and the possibility of success ensures that everyone is in good spirits, even those who think they have failed. The studying, the amount of practice exams and finally the real thing is a gruelling process, which can be even more gruelling if your personal life is unsettled or work commitments restrict your study time. So just to be at this point knowing that there is a good chance you have passed is a satisfying feeling. As was the case at university, the guys spent the afternoon convincing each other they had passed while the girls are promoting that they had definitely failed even though most of them know that they were probably in line for a distinction.
Around 4.15pm the time had come to make the walk up to the Institute. Brisk chatter turned to silence and the group began to disperse, as some raced to be the first there while others looked like they were dead men walking. Failing is by no means the end of the world because the firm will not fire you as a result. The firm knows the PY is tough and are happy for you to sit each exam a second or even a third time if need be. However, they will only pay for your first attempt. After that you have to cough up the eight hundred or so dollars that it costs per exam.
Soon I found myself walking alone and when, only minutes away from the result, I had a sickening feeling come over me. If I failed I knew that any kind of overseas adventure would have to be delayed. Success here meant I had four exams to go and would have the PY completed by mid 2000. I would have a good qualification to fall back on if or when I returned to Australia whereas failure would mean that I had proved that this tax exam is the hardest and that I should have waited for the next exam like most of the graduate year. Furthermore, my confidence would be at a low and I would still have all five exams to complete.
It was at this point I realised what an idiot I had been and this realisation stopped me dead in the street.
I could not believe that I had been so stupid to put myself into a position whereby I allowed the outcome of one exam to decide if I would be giving myself the opportunity to create “absolute heaven.” My time overseas should occur according to a schedule that I created and not a schedule administered by the Institute of Chartered Accountants! I arrived at the Institute in a sombre mood. I took the elevator to the tenth floor and stepping out into the corridor, I saw a swarm of people converging around the tutorial room directly opposite. I bustled my way into the room and noticed the results posted along the back wall. I heard screams of joy as those that found their identification number realised they had passed, while I saw others with pale faces - they could not find their number and thus knew they had failed. I waited until the tangled mess of people had cleared the room and walked up to locate my number.
Identification Number 9190023 was nowhere to be found.
Walking back to the office to pick up my jacket, I showed my disgust by consistently scuffing the end of my shoe as I kicked it against each curb I crossed. I had studied for two months, two SUMMER months and I could have spent the entire time at the beach because the result would have been the same. Back at the office, the people there could tell from the blankness in my face not to ask me for my result. My no show at the pub confirmed their instincts as instead of drowning my sorrows, I boarded the train straight home.
I spent the weekend drunk with emotion as now I really had no idea in which direction my future lay. I spoke with Brett and amongst his commiserations, he also informed me of his intention to move up to Sydney for the rest of the year because of greater acting opportunities. Great news for Brett, but there went a huge part of my social life. Even worse, Danielle had recently started seeing “some new guy” so even a casual no guilt shag to regain some self-esteem was also out of the question. On the following Tuesday morning when I received my actual result by mail, I opened the envelope to discover I had failed by one and a half marks. Honestly, I would have preferred to fail by twenty marks rather than a measly one point five. This gave me the absolute one hundred per cent definition of the shits! One and a half marks - you have got to be fucking kidding me?!?!
Now, with a concrete reason to drown my sorrows, I quietly left the office to spend the rest of the day in a pub, at the other end of town.
That night at home, lost for ideas as to my next move, I turned to mum and dad for advice. They suggested I should study hard and sit the next exam before I gave in and started looking for a new career. Once again, my parents had offered logical advice and this time it appeared the sensible advice to take. I had also sobered up by this stage and realised that as I had been so close to passing the hardest exam, theory would suggest that the same effort would see me pass the rest with ease.
The following weekend Brett had his Bon Voyage Bash where he introduced me to a new group of friends. Johnny was a current soap star who I recognised from the show that brought Brett his fame, Elizabeth had recently started on the same show and Kirrily, Elizabeth’s best friend from high school, is someone who we all took a liking to thanks to her amazing breasts. These breasts were completely unexpected considering her slender behind.
Those breasts were all I could think about during the next week when I sat down after work to begin studying for the next PY exam. Only ten minutes into reading about financial consolidations, I already detested it and thankfully, my phone rang to distract me. It was Kirrily. Her and the gang from the weekend were out drinking at my old university bar and asked if I wanted to join them. I could hear the laughter, the familiar music from the band and could smell the alcohol through the phone. I regretfully declined due to my study commitments and promised to catch up with them on the weekend.
Turning off my phone to ensure there were no further distractions I could not help but wonder if I had made the wrong decision.
I could stay at my desk studying because it was a Tuesday and not the night to be drinking or I could say, “What the fuck” and just go out. I shook my head in an attempt to ignore the good times awaiting me and kept on reading. However, I could not get past the next word. I suddenly thought that maybe this could be the sign I had been looking for. If I said, “What the fuck” I knew that this would not be some kind of one night treat but a permanent change. I thought of my favourite line from the movie “Risky Business”….
“You know sometimes you just have to say, “What the fuck,” because saying, “What the fuck” gives you freedom. Freedom brings opportunity and opportunity makes your future.”
I packed up the books not knowing whether I would open them again. I rang Kirrily and told her of my attentions. She told the gang and I had to pull the phone away from my ear to avoid going deaf from the cheers and applause. Driving in my car, I felt as nervous as a virgin driving to a brothel to finally get laid because this move was going against all my principles. Without giving it a second thought, I was done with the PY! Sure, I would have to skate around this issue at work, but I looked upon that as an entertaining challenge. By avoiding certain people and coming up with some classic bullshit if anyone asked as to my progress, I knew I could succeed in this masquerade. Work now took on a complete new meaning as it would become a question of survival. I aimed to hold my place in the workplace for the next twelve months without studying for the PY. Furthermore, I would continue to save as much of my salary as possible as I, Nige 54, would be heading overseas in just over twelve months time. The date flashed before my eyes - June 2000, the beginning of the European summer – was the date “absolute heaven” would be born!
In the meantime, I would continue to re-define my life by “coming of age” and just like George Costanza in my favourite episode of ‘Seinfeld’, I would begin to do the opposite. By agreeing to meet Kirrily and her friends, I had done the opposite of my initial thought and in turn had changed the course of my life. Therefore, from this moment onwards I would apply the opposite to every principle and instinct I ever had until the results in my life were positive instead of negative, outstanding instead of mediocre and the babes were naked instead of clothed. I pumped my fist with joy and turned up the radio in pure adulation as one phone call had not only changed my life, but had brought me the freedom I thought would take five exams and one hell of a lot of bullshit along the way.
The next morning I rocked into work totally refreshed at 11.30am after a huge night out with Kirrily, Elizabeth and Johnny. By turning up at so late, I had done the opposite of struggling in all hung over and skanky at 9am. Also, I ensured that no one noticed my absence and with that accomplished, I already deemed my day a success. How could this be possible in such a large firm?
Well, we had moved into a quieter time of the year so many were on holidays but more importantly, I had learned that with the firm being so extensive, that it became very easy to disappear when required thanks largely to the firm’s introduction of a “hot desking” policy. “Hot desking” meant that each employee below manager no longer had an actual desk because as auditors, we often worked out at our clients for lengthy periods. Therefore, when an employee planned to be in the office, the new policy required that employee to book a desk when they needed it. Most people did view this new policy as nothing more than extra hassle and administration whereas mavericks like me automatically saw the advantage. Without being assigned a desk no superior could say,
“Nigel, you were not at your desk at 9am!” As my obvious response would be, “But I do not have a desk.”
The fact is that I could be anywhere as “hot desks” were located on various floors throughout the building. The firm did expect each employee to book a desk within their division, but how could I be to blame if all of the desks in my division were booked out and I had to re-locate to another floor? Alternatively, I could have accidentally booked the wrong desk and that is why I appeared difficult to find.
Sure, some days did require my full attendance, but I would always be creating more strategies to enable me to capitalise on my free time. For example, if I found myself in the office with nothing to do, in the past I would normally stay until 5pm asking my managers for work. However, in accordance to my new way of living, the opposite applied and instead I would leave early to “visit a client to finalise some issues” when I would really be heading home or over to Kirrily’s to hang out. Kirrily studied arts, rarely went to class and therefore needed a playmate. She was also the daughter of some very wealthy parents who lived in a huge mansion not too far from my place so I was more than happy to be that playmate. Kirrily had a massive variety of videos to watch, all the food and alcohol I could imagine and a swimming pool, tennis court and weight room! Each morning or afternoon spent with Kirrily reminded me of a scene out of “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off” except better because the firm paid me for each lap I swam, beer I drank or blowjob I received.
On occasions when I would sleep over at Kirrily’s and arrive into work late, I had obviously “been at a client picking up the latest accounts” or “tied up in a meeting.” Each morning I arrived ready to deliver such an excuse but no one ever bothered to question me. But I suppose this did not surprise me because I am intelligent and did complete all of my work. Yet more importantly, each time I arrived at work, sat at my desk or left in a hurry, I always made sure I looked angry. This is because when you look angry, you look busy! Again, just like Costanza.
In relation to chicks, my life definitely started to resemble “54.” By focussing my efforts sevens day a week, I became amazed as to how many chicks I could add to my schedule. Rather than just dedicating myself to Friday and Saturday nights, I became available for dates every night and as many of the girls I chased were university students, it became essential for me to dedicate myself during the week to guarantee some weekend action.
This, I found, is a hugely important point as the quicker you can get the first date out of the way and the time needed for a girl to feel comfortable with you, the quicker you start getting laid! It started to become common practice for me to meet a girl on Friday night, have a drink on Tuesday or Wednesday before a most excellent bonking session the following Saturday night. This process began to work time and time again and became known as System One.
Part 3
System One made perfect sense. By keeping the excitement of meeting a new babe flowing throughout one particular week, you are ensuring that she does not become distracted by friends or other guys who will surely be chasing her if she is any kind of babe. For that week, you are the focus. However, that does not mean you call her every day and therefore give the impression you are some overly keen loser. Instead, you organise each date in a very casual and relaxed manner but with a firm time and place so she knows that her commitment is to YOU on that night.
I discovered System One purely by accident when I began to wonder why I had started getting so much action. It did have a lot to do with the fact that I had given up the PY and had begun to devote significant amounts of each day to meeting babes, but the theory behind it seemed so simple and straightforward, I wish I had stumbled upon it years ago. During my university years, I had struggled with the fact that while I am an attractive guy, I looked two or more years younger than my actual age – the classic baby face which girls my age were not interested in. Furthermore, I had no idea how to streamline the process of meeting a girl to getting her naked without putting in a ridiculous amount of effort. Sure, I did experience some success over the years, but if I knew how to administer System One, well I never would have found time to go to class!
The major reason for the success of System One is the psychology behind it. After meeting a girl at a bar on a Friday night and having an entertaining time together that should include some serious kissing, why do you think she will now give up her next Saturday night for you? Saturday nights are sacred in anyone’s language and why are you anyone special to deserve that night?
Having a Saturday night date after meeting the week before is the traditional approach to dating, but personally, I think it is absolute bullshit and often a waste of time unless there has been a mid-week meeting. After the alcohol has worn off, what happens if she no longer fancies you, or even worse, you do not fancy her? Better to find this out on a Wednesday night after work (otherwise known as a “nothing night”) than on the Saturday night date as you run the risk of wasting your weekend.
System One states that it is ESSENTIAL to meet for a mid-week drink because for any “player” looking for that Saturday night shag, it is vitally important that you remove the stigma that is attached to the first date.
Mid-week drinks also give you the opportunity to decide with a sober mind if she is worth one of YOUR Saturday nights. If she does not meet your criteria, you can either place her into your “mid-week selection” with an aim to shagging her on another night during the week or you can walk away and promise to stop drinking so heavily before chasing chicks again in the future. Once you have made your decision, you are now able to gauge her interest and in turn plan your strategy. Is she that interested that you can take her home after she has finished her next drink or, do you use this time to outline that getting naked with you this weekend is the best decision she can make?
You will know that System One is working when you are lying in bed with a quality babe after a great session and she remarks, “I can’t believe we met only a few days ago!”
Then later, when you become more skilled, that remark will change to, “I can’t believe we met only a few HOURS ago!”
Girls can deny it as much as they like, but the facts is, all quality babes have a process they will subject a new guy to before they sleep with him. The aim of System One is to break that process. By being direct and focussing on triggering her desires, you can produce an erotic conclusion that would normally be reached by subjecting yourself to a three or four week process, installed by her that carries no guarantee of success. With System One, YOU are in control.
Honestly, why is it that girls will sleep with rock stars or sports personalities in a millisecond, yet feel that you must pass their often inconsistent and childish tests or “three date rule” before they will get naked? Stuff that crap! Apply System One, the system that runs against the predictable norm that will flip their process upside down and ultimately give BOTH parties the desired result without the unnecessary bullshit.
When applying System One, every now and then you will find that a mid-week drink may turn into a bonking session. Sure, this takes skill, but once accomplished there is no better feeling than walking into the office on say, a Wednesday morning, knowing that you have already achieved what most other single guys will fail to accomplish on the weekend. Yet at this point, it is time to lift the bar. Sure, take time to smell the roses boasting to the boys, but now it is essential to adopt the attitude that you still have not received any action for the week and you are therefore still aiming for that weekend bonk. Remember, you are no “true player” and only a “try hard” if you strike it lucky during the week and while basking in the glow of that success, fail to capitalise on the weekend opportunities.
Constantly lifting the bar is THE KEY so the norm becomes what was previously the unthinkable.
Overall, the extent to which you utilise System One is up to you as each person has different goals and objectives, but remember, as long as you keep aiming for the same outcome the same results will always occur and eventually become boring. That is why you hear guys say,
“Yeah I used to get laid all the time but now I can no longer be bothered.” These types of guys simply failed to lift to the next level or what is a more likely explanation, were unsure how too.
Having said that, let me just add something else at this point. If you have met and kissed a girl on say a Friday, had a drink and engaged in some more kissing during the week and then failed to get laid on the weekend date, examine the situation carefully. If you think she is worth it, definitely have one more “shagable date.” By this, I mean that you have knowledge of her movements and are aware of the nights when she can party. Plan a date for one of these nights. If you then again fail to get laid on this date please, please, please have a brain and walk away!
The majority of guys will not walk away and just keep on trying, which, as a result, gives girls the impression they are princesses and this makes it harder for ALL of us in the long run. If you keep on trying and bow to each of the princess’s demands, she will know that she has full control of you and therefore System One’s advantages will disappear. Your efforts will only lead to more time wasting and even if you do eventually get laid, from the “player” status you were so proud of, you will suddenly find yourself in a relationship. Good players do not get themselves into these situations because if you still want to be a player, you will then have to hurt her by breaking up a relationship you originally only intended as good, fun shag.
Sure, it does take time to master this process, especially when you meet hot babes who are relationship focussed, but remember that the BEST players never lie to or emotionally hurt women to achieve the desired objectives.
With System One in its early stages of success, Friday nights at 5pm would be the starting point, as I would race from my desk to meet up with my new mate, Charlie. He and I had met upon joining the firm at the beginning of 1998, but at that time he had a fiancé and I, a girlfriend. However, looking back to when we first met, we both noticed the glint in each other’s eyes and knew we would be a formidable team if given the opportunity.
That opportunity had presented itself earlier in 1999 when Charlie had broken off his engagement. He worked as a tax lawyer and therefore was not required to complete the PY, so once he became available Charlie was literally bursting at the seams to hit the bars and start chasing chicks every night. Our constant communication with each other meant that he knew I would be the perfect partner in crime, yet in early 1999, I could not oblige due to my PY commitments. Now, with these commitments extinguished and Brett’s departure to Sydney a few weeks old, our time had arrived.
On our first night out together, Charlie and I met in the foyer of our building and jiggled with excitement as this night had been months in the making. Charlie’s dark suit, dark blue shirt and matching tie oozed style and class while I dressed very similar except that I sported an eye catching silver tie that added a ‘54’ feel. Flinders Lane, the street behind our building would be our selected playing field because it stretched from one end of Melbourne’s Central Business District to the other and advertised a variety of bars and clubs converged on by unsuspecting secretaries and university babes. Charlie and I began at a popular starting point, De Biers, to catch up on the week’s events while intentionally ignoring those around us because at 5pm there is little point talking to chicks so early in the evening. After a solid couple of hours, we would then grab some dinner before moving onto the Purple Emerald, a much classier Friday night venue. Here, at around 8pm, is where the debauchery would begin.
Charlie and I never had any problem meeting girls. We would often turn around from the bar where we had been talking and start chatting to a group of babes standing behind us. Why were they standing behind us? Well, Charlie and I were always at the bar focussing on each other’s jokes and laughing about the dickheads from work. Now if you were a girl looking to approach guys, would you stand near the two guys with their backs to the bar, not talking to each other and staring around the room OR would you stand behind the two sexy guys at the bar having an awesome time knocking back tequila shots?
If you are looking relaxed, feeling good but most importantly, look like you are having a great time - then the girls will come to you. This theory began to work only ten minutes after we arrived at the Purple Emerald because Charlie and I sank a tequila shot, turned around and started chatting to a blonde babe called Sarah and her sexy Asian friend. As a side issue, the key in this situation is not to fight over the better-looking girl as they should BOTH be babes otherwise one of you is wasting your time. Therefore, as they are both good looking, it does not matter which one you end up with and any unnecessary arguing or attempts at “one-upmanship,” which is an instant turn off, is avoided.
After the usual pleasantries, Sarah’s body language indicated she had taken a liking to me, so I moved in for the score. We had only been chatting for about ten minutes, but I saw no point in wasting any more time. I picked the moment, locked eyes and we were away. Sarah had me so aroused with her sensational DSLs (Dick Sucking Lips), that my mind immediately wondered how amazing she must be at giving blowjobs. Charlie and Miss Asia witnessed our exchange and started their own tongue war while out of the corner of my eye I gave a glance to the guys next to us at the bar. We called guys like this “donuts” because they stood there, looking like the accountants that they were, gritting their teeth clearly envious of our success.
“Hey donuts! Knock back a tequila shot and at least act like you are worth spending time with!” I felt like saying.
With the kissing accomplished and some strong attractions present, it became time to think about possible sleeping plans. By asking where these girls lived and with who, Charlie and I established that DSL and Miss Asia were unlikely to shag us that night so in accordance with System One, mid-week dates were immediately planned. In the meantime, we agreed a “tour” of our offices would be more than appropriate. The firm had recently given all employees twenty-four hour access passes which we would now be using to our advantage. The girls loved the idea of a night-time view of Melbourne twenty-five floors up so we left the bar and made the short walk back to the office. Upon arrival at the firm, we told the girls that while our offices (which we were still five years away from receiving) were on the same floor, they were on different sides. Therefore, when we arrived on the twenty-fifth floor, Charlie and I went our separate ways with our respective girls in toe and led them to find a dimly lit, but more importantly, vacant office.
I took the twenty-year old DSL to the Head Partner’s office and she became instantly captivated by the view. All the lights were out, the floor seemed deserted except for Charlie and Miss Asia on the opposite side and with the city nightlife below us, we began some serious kissing as I planted DSL up against the full-length window. Eroticised by her moans I then opened her blouse to reveal two beautifully formed coconuts. I sucked on each with my wet tongue before attempting to hitch up her skirt. Here is where she stopped me – she had her period. But before I had time to curse, her hands began undoing the zip of my pants. She then began stroking me elegantly before I backed off to make myself comfortable in the Head Partner’s chair. DSL knew exactly what I wanted. She slowly dropped to her knees and even though she was only twenty years old, began to give me the type of blowjob only performed by porn queens. She moaned and she sucked in a variety of rhythms while looking at me with her big blue eyes that said, “Blow when you’re ready.” Grasping the arms of my boss’s chair tighter, I leaned back and I thought that THIS is exactly what Friday nights are about! I enjoyed the moment for as long as possible until DSL’s technique overcame me and she swallowed the lot before performing a first class polishing. DSL had literally blown me away and with the glorious view over the city combined with her amazing technique, I automatically ranked DSL amongst my all time top three blowjob queens.
Basking in the afterglow of the moment, reality hit and I knew that if security walked by I would be in some serious shit! We quickly dressed and made our way back downstairs where Charlie and Miss Asia were waiting. The girls decided to go home so we escorted the girls out of the building and into a waiting taxi. As the car drove off into the distance Charlie and I looked at each other and raised our hands in triumph. We hugged, we slapped each other on the back and then realised that it was not even 11pm. Therefore, we walked back to the Purple Emerald for some celebratory drinks where the “donuts” were still thinking about making their first move.
On Monday morning, I could not retain my laughter when I walked past the Head Partner’s office and saw him working diligently in his chair. Thankfully, DSL had ensured there was no spillage.
In accordance with System One, DSL and I came together for a drink on the following Wednesday. We enjoyed about one and a half drinks before leaving the bar and driving straight back to her place for a hard bonking session. At the conclusion of this and another outstanding DSL blowjob, I knew I had to be careful to avoid any kind of relationship building as she had already started to become quite clingy even though I had explained that I just wanted to party. Therefore, I outlined to DSL that on Monday I had to leave for Sydney on a two-week business trip and she could call me when I returned. By saying this, I covered myself both ways because if I wanted, I had a guaranteed shag in two weeks time or I could just fade away into the distance accommodating the new babes System One would have attracted by that time.
Charlie stopped by my workarea the next morning and as he had also spent the previous evening banging Miss Asia, we threw a high-five in celebration of our mid-week achievements.
Armed with direct evidence of System One’s success, Friday nights in Flinders Lane became our Mecca for babes. Saturday nights were equally as enjoyable because Charlie and I spent them with my new soap star friends whose connections brought us free entry to clubs, free drinks and introductions to a variety of entertaining people. Within a few weeks, we had packed our diaries full of babes who wanted action and compared to his social life of a month ago, Charlie found himself flabbergasted as to how quickly it had changed since the introduction of System One. It became his bible.
However, on the work front, we were both now entering our busy seasons and therefore needed to become super organised in all areas. Being super organised is another talent necessary throughout the administration of System One to ensure full capitalisation of each babe met because a good player is NEVER too busy to plan his weekly date schedule. If you think that you are too busy, then you need a reality check because you are actually not busy, but rather, disorganised. This is even more the case with the girls who are apparently “too busy” to arrive on time, return a phone call, write an email or even take the time to be polite. These girls, like the try-hard players out there, need to stop over exaggerating the importance of every little detail in their lives so instead of saying, “Sorry, I was too busy,” they must learn to say, “I apologise. I am disorganised and I need to learn how to plan my life better.”
Part 4
The busy time at work officially arrived and amongst my many duties, I prepared for my yearly appraisal where I would deliver to senior management one of my all time favourite comments that highlighted exactly why I detested the big firm corporate bullshit.
Throughout the year, my quarterly appraisals were more than satisfactory because my work is of a high standard. Sure, the perception existed that I partied too hard, but I never allowed my after work activities to delay me in meeting deadlines, so I was expecting a good overall rating for the past year. My manager, on the other hand, had other ideas and wanted to explain why I had been ranked in the bottom third of graduates in my division.
“Nigel, the problem is that there is a perception out there that you are more interested in your social activities than your work commitments. For example, if you look around the office, people like Joanne and Tim work well past 5pm every night while you consistently leave as soon as the clock hits 5pm. Why is that?”
“Probably because I am more efficient,” I replied.
My manager sat there in a stunned silence as if I had just informed him that I had been having an affair with his wife. My comment had upended his entire thought process and as he tried to think of a response I continued with, “So while I would love to spend time discussing my efficiency levels to perhaps highlight how I can assist your top performers like Joanne and Tim to improve theirs, I unfortunately must go because I am late for basketball training.”
On that note, I left. Trying to hide my laughter on the way to the elevator, I could never understand that after comments like that, why the firm did not challenge me more. They knew I was a very confident person so why not put me to the test, give me the hardest assignment and find out if I was in fact as good as my confidence levels suggested. The mind boggles…