A slightly late summary of my Easter Weekend exploits.

Thursday night
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Head to a bar in the City to meet some friends. Many attractive women, and the bar is lively. All but one of my friends is either married or in a relationship; the one who isn't has just come out of a long-term relationship. It's all good, lots of banter, drink flowing, everyone having a good time.

A few of them sit down in the restaurant bit to have a meal, I go to join but it's too late to order food. I get a bit bored and notice 3 girls to the left of me have just finished, one has a massive salad bowl so the opener...'did you enjoy that big bowl of salad?'

End up bantering with all of them, one is trying to bust my balls but I keep throwing the tests back in her face. After a while though, my friends start trying to fuck it up by being obnoxious, even though I was trying to bring them into the conversation!

After a while we move to another part of the bar, I'm in a nice flow now and just opening. Sometimes the stuff that girls come out with is so utterly retarded; one tells me she has a boyfriend, but likes to go out and 'flirt with another men' - upon hearing this I laugh in her face.

The bar closes and we head to Shoreditch, but at this point the alcohol is starting to take over. In the bar we end up in I still manage to open and conversate, but the aim is slightly off. Eventually it's time to make the long journey back to South London; overall, a decent night out.

Saturday
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All day drinking eventually leads to Infernos in the evening. This venue is tough; the classic meat market, with pretentious girls and douchebag guys. It is all about volume in this place; even the photographer tells me that in order to pull you must open at least 90% of the women. The night here finishes with a fat girl telling me to 'run along to my friends'.

Sunday night
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Out in my local area with a couple of friends, and we head to a old skool garage night. Again I am the only single member of the group; we are all having a great time, later on in the night I feel the urge to chat some of the ladies walking around the venue.

I do what has been my worst pickup for a long time, and it needs some analysis:
1) She is taller than me; normally I don't have a problem with this, but
2) I 'hover' for a long time on the dancefloor near her - hesistancy puts you in your head;
3) Finally I decide to open with probably the worst opening line I have delivered for a while - 'You may not want to talk to me, but I'm gonna introduce myself anyway'

The funny thing is, as soon as the words left my mouth I knew I had put the proverbial gun to my head. And fired. A slight positive was that I didn't get 100% airtime - she did humour the little man for about a minute or so before the heat got too much.

Could I have turned it around? Maybe. But I left the club pretty annoyed...hesistancy is fatal.

The whole weekend got me thinking about the idea of regularly going to a 'tough' venue. In London, there are several of these to be found. It is almost like going to the gym, except you are building the emotional muscles, building indifference, letting go of outcome, building momentum. It is another road that can be travelled in the quest for higher-quality women.

In summary - failure highlights what still needs to be learnt.