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The Bet

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Years ago – I made a bet with a sales woman – Summer Bankston – who I was dating and on the fritz with at the time.

To say we had a relationship wouldn’t entirely be accurate.

What we had was just weird at times.

For instance. I’d gotten tired of the guilt trips and drama she’d present to me on a regular basis, and on one particular night I called up a friend of mine and said “Do you want to get laid?

Spencer Anglin was a horndog. So he jumped on the opportunity.

I told Summer to quit calling me when she was drunk and horny to which she responded with “But I have no one else to call.” Enter Spencer, she went over to his place that evening – and they hooked up. He was more than glad to fill that literal and figurative void I’d left.

So one night. Not long after that, not long after Summer and Spencer had quit talking, he found her as annoying as I did, I’d fallen victim to my own loneliness one night drinking and was receptive when she called.

I wasn’t interested in hooking up, and had made that clear.

The sex really wasn’t ever that good with her, which I didn’t tell her, her utterly predicable responses typically meant never acknowledging what I said and responding with something along the lines “Oh yeah, if I am so are you”.

So I learned just to never get into those critical discussions with her.

She flat out couldn’t take it.

But for this evening of the bet – I was candid and said I wasn’t interested, and if we went out for a drink and we chatted about anything BUT us, that wouldn’t break my heart.

She agreed.

Now I knew that once we started drinking together, she’s start with the same woe is me drama. The woman was utterly predictable with this and for some reason could never find ‘the bright side’ of things to look at.

So I came up with a plan.

She’s a great sales woman.

IF she started up with the crap again. I’d challenge her sales capabilities and make her a bet.

AS a programmer studying psychology, marketing, and sales, I was curious if my skills were on par with someone who had spent the whole first part of her life in sales.

The bet was simple and appealed to me because I was that disinterested in sleeping with her.

IF she wins. Then we have sex that night.

If I won. Then she admits that I’d be a better sales person than her.

For me it was an ego stroke thing. And Summer’s ego was actually at the same level of mine. And while I readily professed and knew she was a great sales person, to have someone like her actually admit I was better at a profession she thought she’s mastered inspired the competitor in me.

What was the bet?

Who could get the most phone numbers at a club in a night.

This was at a time cell phones weren’t as ubiquitous as they are now, a time where getting a number still mattered.

And there was a caveat: They had to be quality numbers.Meaning – they were for someone we might actually wind up dating.

With Summer, while there was always tension between us and a disability to see eye to eye romantically or relationally, the one thing I always knew about the girl was that I could trust her.

So that night we met up, and rather than wait for the woe is me to start, I said – you know – moods are high right now and we’re enjoying the night – so why not maintain this and make the bet now rather than wait for things to sour where the bet becomes about spite rather than for fun?

So about twenty minutes in, I mentioned the bet to Summer.

She was all for it. “You have yourself a deal”.

I’d been resisting her sexual advances, one of the few women I’ve regularly made it a habit of resisting time and again, and she’d made it clear she wanted to get laid early on so it seemed perfect. For me it was about the challenge of outperforming a sales professional.

For her, I had created the perfect incentive which paralleled my own unwillingness.

Prior to this point, I’d been studying psychology intensely and had been considering returning to school on a full time basis to pursue a Marketing Degree.

And I’ll tell you the outcome – I won.

I had acquired nine numbers that evening – to her seven.

Not only did we not have sex, but at this point that’s when she began telling me she thought I should be in sales.

It was refreshing.

How’d I do it?

I sincerely don’t know.

I dated three of the girls I met that evening after that night.

Summer and I talked for years afterwards, but I finally blocked her on Facebook about four months ago.

It was the same ole drama act and I finally just got tired of listening to it.


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