“Excuse me, do you mind helping me with something?”

“Sure. What's up?”

The girl at this cafe table is a looker. Lovely red locks, pale skin that glistens like snow, freckles. Have I ever mentioned that freckles are adorable on a girl? This lady is a rare combination of stunning and cute.

I take a seat across from her at this cafe table. She's by herself but probably waiting on a friend. No biggie if her friend shows up. More girls means more potential numbers.

“I was wondering if you could give me romantic advice. I'm a bit clueless when approaching girls. I don't know what to say. Could you give me some suggestions on what it takes to get a girl's number?”

She seems a bit surprised. Probably thought she was my romantic target, but then I went ahead and revealed that that wasn't the case—or is it the case?

“Um, well, let's see...” She thinks for a minute. “First, you have to say hi. Then you compliment her.”

“Is there a certain way I should compliment her?”

“Just tell her her shirt looks nice or something. After that, you invite her to hang out.”

“And then that's when I get her number?”

“Yeah. You'll need it to set up your date.”

“Okay. That helps a lot. Thank you so much!”

“Uh-huh. Good luck!”

That's kind of you, but I won't be needing luck. I just need for you to give me that same smile when I get your number out of you.

I leave the cafe and give it ten minutes. Once some time has passed, I reenter and spot the girl where I left her. She's got a friend beside her, as I predicted. Her friend's hot, too. Wonder which of them will be more into me.

“Hi.” I greet the girl with a friendly smile.

“Hi.”

“I like your shirt. It looks good on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” She gives her friend a befuddled look, and she looks confused, too. She must've told her about me picking her brain for pick-up advice. Excellent. That'll make my success all the more plausible.

“You wanna hang out?”

She and her friend go hysterical at that. They go red in the face with laughter.

“What's the matter?” I play dumb.

“I—I'm sorry. It's just—a minute ago, I had a guy ask me for dating advice, and what I told him is exactly what you're using on me right now! Pfffft!” She doubles back into laughing.

Things are going spectacularly, exactly as I had hoped. The reception's even a little too good. I feared she might be creeped out by this, but nope. This is the highlight of her day.

It might be a curiosity of yours how it is that I can ask a woman for dating advice, use that same advice against her, and her reaction not be, “Ew. Are you that desperate?” Yes, I am that desperate, but she doesn't need to know that.

Something else she doesn't need to know is that I manipulated how light bounces off of me.

Imagine an apple, and you've got your eyeball right up on it. The reason you can see the apple is because you've got light waves bouncing off of it and diving straight into your pupil. But if that apple was an orange, the light waves would be different. They would reflect orange instead of red and bounce off at different angles, since the orange is shaped differently. This is what I did with that girl. I altered the rays of light bouncing off my face so that I looked like a completely different person. And she's none the wiser for it.

I've got her laughing, I've got her smiling, and I've surely piqued her interest. Now to move in for the final strike!

“Is that a yes to hanging out? If so, I'll need your number so that we can set up our date.”

“I—I'm...” She cuts off her laughter and steadies her breathing before continuing. “I'm sorry, but I already have a boyfriend.”

“............Oh. Is that so?”

Well. She's already got a man. Probably won her heart with this very trick. Guess I have no reason to be here anymore. I'll be taking my leave. Won't ever see me again.

*

“Haaa...”

That was devastating. All that effort put in...Doesn't she realize how hard it is making my face look different? It ain't easy changing each individual ray of light that bounces off my face without looking like a radioactive monstrosity, you know. Takes a buttload of concentration, too.

Failures were expected, but I hope this first instance doesn't set the precedent for things to come.

*

In a city full of people, it isn't long before I spy another beautiful woman as my target. Changing how my face and clothes appear, I make my move.

“Hi there. May I borrow a moment of your time?”

“What do you need?”

“Some advice. See, I'm terrible with women and don't know how to get a phone number from them. Do you think you could teach me how?”

She thinks on this. “Say hello to her and ask her how her day is going.”

“Got it. Thanks so much.”

The knowledge is mine, so now the power to make her mine is mine.

I release my Light Bend and go back up to her a few minutes later.

“Hello. How is your day going?”

“It's going good. Thanks for asking.”

“You're welcome. Mind if I get your number?”

She laughs. “No, that's all right.”

“No? Oh, well. Okay. You have a good day, or keep having a good day.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

So much for her. Onto the next girl.

 

I approach a pair of girls this time. The one isn't much to look at, but her friend's a killer. Obviously, she's the one I'm vying for.

After getting greetings out of the way, I ask for advice, and the killer tells me I should introduce myself and ask the girl for her name.

“You should also give her an apple.”

Is the not-hot friend for real? Give her an apple?

Wait, is she for real? Is that something girls really want but are too shy to ask for?

Looks like I'm buying an apple.

I return a little while later, apple in hand, and make introductions.

“Hi, I'm Grant. What's your name?”

“Eve.”

“That's a really pretty name.” A compliment wasn't part of the script, but might as well throw one in for good luck. Maybe it'll earn me brownie points. “You want this apple, by the way?”

Both girls break down into a fit of tears.

“We just told your buddy that,” the not-hot friend says after collecting herself.

“What buddy? What are you talking about?” I play dumb.

“This is a prank video, isn't it?”

“If it is, you'll be able to point out the camera, yeah?”

She takes up my challenge and screens the area, and her arm goes up several times as she goes to point out this imaginary camera of hers. “I don't know where the camera is, but I know this is a prank!”

Long story short, because they thought I was just messing with them and wasn't serious, I didn't get a number.

 

Back at it. I see a pretty lady, and I ask her how a man like myself should get a number from a woman like herself.

“Talk about how much you love your family and what they mean to you.”

A bit weird, but all right. Chicks love guys who are open and honest about their feelings, so maybe sharing how much I love my relatives turns their hearts to mush.

“Hi there. I just wanted to let you know that I love my family so much. My mom's really important to me. She worked so hard to make sure I had a happy upbringing. My dad was a pretty cool dude. I really miss him.”

“Hahaha! Okay.”

“Can I have your number?”

“No.”

 

“Invite her to a museum.”

Ah, I get it. Dinner's cliché, and you can't get to know a person when you're sitting tight-lipped at the theater. A visit to a museum is fresh, and there's plenty to talk about.

I go back up to the girl as myself.

“Hi there. There's this cool exhibit on turtles at the museum. Wanna see it together with me?”

“No! This is scary!” She runs away.

*

Five numbers at least, I said. Guaranteed to land me a babe, I probably said.

Two hours pass with me at this, and know how many numbers I earned? As many as there are tapioca puddings in my kitchen cabinet. The answer's zero. I don't like tapioca.