I was stuck in the mire that is the last five minutes of a bad date.
Practically clawing at the car door, I couldn’t help but hear the tragedy that came out of my date’s mouth: “I think of myself as a PUA.”
I had heard the term once before while channel surfing, landing on VH1 as I invariably do. On a series known as The Pick-Up Artist, host and PUA, Mystery, attempts to teach his contestants how to pickup women.
His fuzzy pimp hat, hoop earrings and aviator goggles make him an enchanter of women everywhere.
I urge you to Google this creature.
Pickup artistry has, for decades, crept under the radar as a little-known subculture of men known collectively as the “seduction community.”
According to Wikipedia, the most reliable of discredited Internet sources, this community “exists largely through Internet forums and groups, as well as over a hundred local clubs, called ‘lairs.’
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Is it just me, or does that seem more than a little bit creepy?
It is reasonable to use some techniques, like “the compliment opener,” (the technique of starting up a conversation by giving the other person a sincere compliment) as a confidence booster, but when PUA becomes a lifestyle there is a more serious issue at hand.
Besides the fact the PUA perspective objectifies women in every sense of the word, it completely devalues the process of interaction. It has gone beyond an interesting analysis of human psychology to become simply a means to an end.
Consider the definition of a “canned routine,” according to Pualingo.com: “A set routine of things to say and do in a pickup that are rehearsed and memorized.”
How utterly depressing and unoriginal.
Or, take “chick crack”: “Conversation material for girls that sticks like crack. Astrology, palm reading, Cosmo quizzes, celebrities or new age spirituality.”
I can assure you we females are not that transparent.
It was at this point in my research I realized that, beyond being incredibly turned off, this new social phenomenon made me something else: really, truly sad.
I’m not one to knock on technology. I use it every day and would be absolutely devastated if I couldn’t text my friends during physics class or Facebook-stalk the delicious yumster who bagged my groceries at Safeway.
But honestly, is this where the future is headed?
Has the process of forming lasting human relationships become so overwhelming that we feel the need to resort to cheesy acronyms and silly rules? Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think finding love should be that easy. What about spontaneity? Taking a chance? Good old icebreakers? An unrehearsed compliment is always preferable to one that feels like it was ripped off the VH1 Web site.
Come find me at a party, tell me a joke, ask me a question, show me confidence, intelligence and kindness and I’ll be incredibly receptive.
But the second I feel like I’m trapped inside your Halo 3 game, I’m out.
You can pick up Kristen at kckelle2@asu.edu.
