Catch Me If You Can 

I get approached by mature women pretty frequently, usually at least once per night or two that I'm out, and sometimes during the day. That may not sound like a lot, but for a guy, that's a LOT. I know that if I never hit on another mature girl again, I will still end up with a hot wife, and tonight, this will become even more evident:

RJ and I arrive at Brothers. Tonight I decide to hang low and let him approach and work sets. All I'm going to do is lay back and evaluate. Not going to approach any mature women at all. Inside by the bar, I see two mature girls: a fat mature girl and a hot blonde. I make nothing of it and move on. However, eventually, I notice them walking and they stop to stand right in front of me again on the other side on the bar, hovering. Proximity attraction perhaps? I bet I could easily pull the hot blonde. Nah, I'll pass.

However, what does happen is that two guys approach these mature girls. They do really well. The mature girls are laughing at all of their jokes, but what happens? These guys are too damn nervous to make anything of it. No phone number, no kiss, no nothing. Eventually these guys run out of material, and the mature girls get bored and walk off. Fucking rookie mistakes. They had these mature girls on lock, and screwed it up because of their own fear.

I move on. I see two more guys. Tall, good looking, but standing and talking to each other as if they are afraid to talk to mature women. If only these guys knew how good they had it. I use to be the same way, not quite aware of how easy I had it with mature women up until fairly recently. If these guys simply went after what they wanted, and kept it simple, they'd actually get the mature girl almost every single time. Take care of yourself, put real effort into how you dress, and it'll be just as easy for you.

RJ and I eventually end up at Ugly Tuna. I walk in, and as we're walking towards the small dancing area, I see a 6' blonde dancing. She is EASILY a perfect ten. Tall, skinny, and in absolute perfect physical condition. Not even really conscious of it at first, as I'm walking by, I give her the "you ain't shit" eyes and keep walking, stopping slightly in front of her. She walks up behind me, and starts dancing up against my ass. I look at RJ. Grin. Without turning around to face her, I say to him...

Me: "I guess white mature girls can dance."

She stops dancing, walks past me and gives me a look as she walks over to her friends. Chase? Me? Pfffft. Rookies chase. Instead, I walk away. I end up back over on the other side of the bar, near the bathroom. I lean against the wall. I turn around. There's the tall skinny blonde dancing again. I end up doing something purely instinctual that can't be taught. As soon as she looks in my direction, I give her a "you ain't shit" look, and slowly turn away from her, with my back facing her.

She walks past me. Turns to look at me. I turn my head away, making sure she realizes that I'm not even going to acknowledge her. Like a pussycat drawn to catnip, she walks over towards me. Gets in my face, trying to get my attention...

Miss Purr: "You have a mature girlfriend, don't you?"

In her head, that's the only logical reason why ANY guy would be treating her the way I am. I should probably tell you guys that she is EASILY the hottest mature girl in this bar tonight, EASILY. Every guy has been staring at her, wanting to get a piece of it. Anyhow, I tell her that I don't have a mature girlfriend. She puts her arm around me, gets in really close, and starts whispering into my ear...

Miss Purr: "I don't normally like black guys..."

Continue...

Miss Purr: "...I'm not racist or anything, but..."

OK?

Miss Purr: "...but I don't normally like black guys, and I am very, very, very attracted to you..."

Miss Purr: "...You have to be the most attractive black guy that I have ever met. I'm not racist or anything..."

Please, stop while you're ahead...

Miss Purr: "...One of my best friends is a black person...she's black."

I then try to get in a word, but she keeps talking...

Miss Purr: "How could you be mean to me, telling me that white mature girls can't dance?"

Me: "I didn't say that. I said I guess white mature girls can dance. I was complimenting you, sweetheart."

Miss Purr: "Let's go dance. Come on!"

And she grabs my hand and starts pulling me across the bar with EVERYONE staring. I see two guys looking dead at me trying to figure out exactly what I did to pull this mature girl. I stop halfway to the dancefloor. She just starts dancing on me. I stop dancing and pull away a little. She immediately grabs my hand and pulls me back while everyone is watching...

Miss Purr: "Where are you going!?!"

She just can't believe that a guy is treating her this way. I stare her dead center in her eyes...

Miss Purr: "Why won't you dance with me? Is something wrong?"

Me: "Nothing's wrong. Tell you what. There's not a lot of room to dance in this bar. How about we go to a real dance club some other day? Does that sound like something you're interested in?"

Miss Purr: "Yes."

Me: "Look, I don't call mature girls, so I'll give you my number."

Miss Purr: "What are you, a mature girl?"

I immediately start walking away. She pulls me back into her again...

Miss Purr: "You have a mature girlfriend. I know it. You have to have a mature girlfriend."

I get a good look at her body, and make sure she sees me looking at it. I then look her dead center in her eyes and take my time saying...

Me: "I'm a good boy. I wouldn't be talking to you if I had a mature girlfriend, but what I do have, sweetheart...is options."

You should see the fucking look on her face. Fucking priceless. I swear, I can hear her pussy get wet. She tells me to find her at the end of the night. I smile, give her a friendly pat on her shoulder, and walk away. The only guy to ever treat her this way. One that she will surely never forget.