Was she the woman who was confident in herself or was she was pressured by someone who wasn’t her friend?
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HIGH STAKES FOR HIGH PRICES
Me and my partner sit enjoying a drink. It’s a long day. We’ve travelled quite a bit. We dress to impress because we’re both in entertainment. I’m a best-selling author who recently did his latest book with Shark Tank Kevin Harrington. My partner’s a nominated entrepreneur of the year for his innovative approach to his industry.
We’re in a town both of us know. We’ve stopped by before. It’s not unlikely someone wouldn’t recognize us.
It’s not the who but the how. Both of us try to be keenly aware of our surroundings. Even in a high-end bar where hotel rooms are $1,000 a night a wolf can sneak in sheep’s clothing.
The wolf is not what you think. The wolf doesn’t look like you imagine.
FLATTERY OR DANGER SOLICITATION
Compliments are not a sign in it themselves. Kind words to strangers are not strange. Self-invitations to sit down do not cause alarm. Gavin Becker is a man Oprah Winfrey calls the nation’s leading expert on violent behavior. His book shows you how to spot subtle signs of danger.
There is subtlety to recognizing hidden indicators. Often, the mind has a subconscious which perceives threats (2). Most circumstances which arise to cause us harm can directly correlate to ignoring a bad gut feeling per Becker.
Let’s analyze how an aware group of men didn’t ignore tell-tale signs.
TWO LADY WOLVES
I raise my drink. We toast. My partner and I just heard some amazing updates on a project we work together. Both of us have substantial money invested into the project. We’ve played a high stakes game. The game always has a low odds chance. Seem like we found a way to win this hand.
We like the game of blackjack because it’s an odds game. Count your cards and remember what’s dealt. Repetition, memory and skill. Some luck but mostly skill. We both don’t believe in gambling. We’re calculated risk takers.
A card player isn’t necessarily a gambler even if everyone else is gambling.
Now we’re looking at another hand apparently. We didn’t realize we came to play. None the less a dealer is dealing us cards.
We’re both in a gamble apparently. We’re not chicken. We can play. We decide to count the cards the dealer deals. We didn’t ask for this hand. But we can manage it. The next card could hit us over 21. We’re holding a pair. Despite this truth we know we need a higher number to beat the dealer.
The dealer glances at us. He feeds us a total of four more drinks. Drinks we didn’t ask for. Here comes the count too high. Here comes our lady wolves asking, “Do you mind if we have a seat?”
Funny the drinks come when there is no request. The dealer winks. Apparently, the ladies are part of the deal. My partner and I stand with our hands not ready to fold.
Next time I’ll tell my partner to lose the iced-out Richard Muller before we sit down to play a game of chance.
A WOLF DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A WOLF
Both women did not appear threatening. One held platinum blond hair, a blue dress, and a soft gaze. Her gaze completely devoid of aggression. Despite the lack of aggression determination was contained within her eyes. The other was joyous, playful and full of schoolgirl energy. She laughed and batted her eyes. Shy and coy she anxiously awaited our response. Our determined blond pulled out a vape and casually inhaled.
She let out a breath. The mist surrounded her face. Her eyes pierced into mine through mist of caption.
My thoughts echoed, “So young. She isn’t old enough to realize that makes her age rapidly.”
My partner looked at me. Our eyes met passively.
We’re having a drink. All the seats are taken. We reserved a table which seats five. There’s no reason to have two ladies stand in a crowded bar.
THE WOLVES BEGINS TO PREY
I nod.
“Sure. You can have a seat.” My partner says.
Both sit.
The first thing which comes out of the blond’s playful companion is a compliment.
“Your eyes are so beautiful!”
I smile. I nod.
“I wouldn’t let you out of my sight if I were her.” Our playful mate says.
She acts as if there is ghost ring around her wedding finger. I get it. I know where this is heading.
My response is simply to tip my hat. My shades are on. My hat is titled. Hustler demeanor can have a star-studded reaction. My partner looks over with a grin.
“Where are you from” my partner asks.
Our playful companion blurts out, “I’m Puerto Rican and from Cali.”
Interesting turn of events. I think she’s part me and part something else. Their conversation trails off as my new seat companion leans close to me.
“She’s right. Your eyes are gorgeous. What are they? Blue? No. Grey? Both! Wow.”
I smile because she’s trying to see through my shades. They are brown toned shades so in the proper light you can see through them. It’s evening not night. There’s still enough light to see through them.
I remove my glasses.
“You can see for yourself.” I say.
She gazes deeply. I’m not juvenile to this look. I know what this is.
She retorts, “Yes you’re right. Two colors in one eye. That’s really rare.”
I respond, “You think? How do you know?”
She responds, “Well only about 1% of people on this planet have two colors in both eyes. You must be someone really exceptional.”
I smile.
She tilts face her slightly, “What’s the smile about?”
My blond companion softly bats her eyes. She locks eye contact and doesn’t look away. This is pretty forward.
“I try to be exceptional.” I say.
She takes another pull of her vape. As she exhales the mist refracts light from her blond hair to amplify her words. They appear to echo.
“Really? What do you do which is so exceptional? What’s your job?” the blond says.
Here it goes. The income qualifying question. I chuckle. Why not. I’ll play the card the dealer gave me. After all they just invited themselves and brought us free drinks to sit down.
Might as well save the money.
“I am an author. I wrote two books that did pretty well.”
She looks at me in astonishment.
“Really?”
I nod. She pulls out her phone. Unlocks it. She swipes up to Instagram. She passes me her phone.
“What do I do with this?” I say.
“Put your handle in. Let me see.” The blond looks at me antsy.
I know this game. She’s trying to do everything to figure out how happily married I am, to see how many kids I have, and see if I really live that life. Am I full of B/S or am I the cosmetically appeared real deal.
I input my handle. I hand it back to the blond investigator.
She quickly flicks, types and then pauses. She clicks on a reel I have. She enlarges it. She softly reads, “Karen L-o-p-e-z.”
She looks at me.
“Is this your wife?”
I nod.
She stares intently at it. She is clearly going through her profile now.
“I would do her.”
Well. There you go. I guess we know what type I have in front of me. She passes her phone to her Puerto Rican companion. I haven’t had time to pay attention to the substance of her conversation with my partner. I notice she’s just staring at my blond when I finally look at her.
Odd. It’s like she has been patiently waiting for her to recognize her the entire time.
“Baby you can take that shot. It’s okay. Go ahead.”
The Californian Puerto Rican smiles, bats her eyes of the approval and takes the shot. Her blond handler just gave her permission. She must think she’s her mom.
Strange.
“Honey, we have to go the bathroom real quick.” she looks at me. “We’ll be right back…” she trails off but before she exits the bar she looks back at me, “Do you want to come?”
I take it as a joke.
“Sure.” I laugh.
She looks at me unmoved.
“It wasn’t a joke.”
An awkward pause. I signal no. Then she moves on without us. I’ve only been chatting with her for maybe 20 minutes. Is this what it’s come down to? A nice appearance, apparent success and an ego comparison to my wife to decide if she should sleep with me?
Pretty low bar.
THE SHEPHERDS NEED TO TALK
I scoot close to my partner. I look at him. Apparently, we require a discussion.
“Listen brother. Whatever you do you do. But I’m not going to sleep with this chick once and have to wait 4 to 6 weeks to have sex with my wife. That’s a bad deal. Without getting into morals and stuff. These are the types guys get STDs from.”
My partner looks at me, “I’ll be honest. She said she was Puerto Rican and from Cali. Then half way through the conversation she says her parents are from Ecuador and she’s lived in the states her whole life. That doesn’t add up.”
I look at him.
“What do you mean? In about 20 minutes she said she’s both Puerto Rican and her parents are from Ecuador? That’s a contradiction.”
He nods.
My partner says, “I don’t know bro. I get this weird vibe from her. She’s always looking at your blond. I got close to her and before she got close to me remember when your girl asked for the phone?”
I reply, “Yeah.”
My partner continues, “Well she didn’t look at me. She stared at her the entire time when I moved close to her. When your girl finally looked up she looked at me and nodded. After she nodded she got close to me. That shit is weird.”
I ponder his words. She did openly give her permission to take a shot. It’s odd for a friend to give permission. I’ve never seen that. I look at my partner, “You think she’s…”
Our wolves emerge from their den.
THE WOLVES GO IN TO BITE
My blond picks up her chair. She moves it right next to mine. She sits down and drapes her left leg over my right leg.
“Opps. I think I brushed some blush on your shirt.”
She’s really close. I’m not dumb. If my wife is back at my room, she just set me up for a trap. Some women are hilarious. She must think this is my first time handling a woman of her type. As I glance up her Ecuadorian Puerto Rican Friend who grew up in America opens her legs slightly. She’s looking at me now.
What’s this? She glances down to signal me to look down. She just lost her panties. It’s a short skirt and you can see more than you could before. She winks.
“Look at me. Don’t look at her.”
My blond is sitting there in the same condition as her friend. She motions her own body downward. I don’t need to look. I know what is down there. Both just decided to reveal a bit more of their cards then we originally thought we would see. I glance at the Dealer.
The dealer smiles, nods and gives me a thumbs up.
What in the world is really going on here?
“I’ve said about 5 words to you. I don’t know you. More important there’s the whole married thing.”
She looks at me. She doesn’t seem fazed by my words.
“So, say some more words to me. I’ll get up.”
She gets off my lap. Finally got that discomfort off. She sits across from me like an interviewer.
“Go ahead. Talk.” My blond says determined.
I look at her. My thoughts come into play ‘Seriously’? She’s really serious. Okay. Here I go. Men should realize sometimes it’s not about you. It’s about a competitive desire for a woman to affirm she’s better than another woman.
For all I know this woman could have just looked at my wife and said “I’m better than her. Let me see if I can get her man.” It’s not about me. It’s selfishly about her. I think to myself I’m above being used. None the less, I’ll indulge. She really doesn’t know who I am.
I tell her about my time in the military. I describe the conditions of my service. The values I uphold and the importance of family, discipline and faith.
Why not lead by example?
I’m a man who sampled his fair share of variety. My nick name was once “C Prestige”. I didn’t get it because I dressed nice. A woman paying attention to me with a size two waist, super model looks, pristine conversation and cosmetically crafted body parts is nothing mysterious. I can look at a woman and for the most part (with about an 80% accuracy) and know what it’s like to be with them. I’m not bragging. This isn’t a gloat. It shames me in all honesty. There was a time where I didn’t reflect the type of man I want my daughter to be with. I can’t name every woman I was ever with. I can remember the face. I just can’t always remember the name.
There was a time in my life where I consumed women like candy.
Children like candy. That time ended with the passage of my childhood (metaphorically). I’m a grown man now — I don’t have time for childhood games.
This woman was asking me to play a game. I live in real life. No more games lady. Sorry.
She interrupts my narration. She tries to command the conversation. I allow it. She tells me of her childhood, her attendance at military school (there it goes), and the value of discipline. I listen to her journeys from Florida to North Carolina. She reveals a bit of character in her discussion. I note it and affirm it where it matters. Then she ends her conversation with,
“You know…we could just go have some fun. You and I.”
So much for discipline. Before I can respond she hands me her phone.
“Look if you change your mind call your number. You can call me.”
Finally, that’s over.
I input my number carefully. I’m thinking about what number to write. My cell? No. My wife doesn’t need this person calling me. I start typing.
“Did you forget your own phone number?” She smirks.
I quickly type a land line number to an office. I’m out of town. She can hear my voice on the voice mail. That’s good enough. She can’t get a hold of me anyways. It’s a land line I never visit its half way across the country.
She takes her phone. She winks.
“Where are you guys staying? Here?”
I shake my head, “No. We’re staying at the W.”
She smiles. “Okay. See you around”
They take off. My partner and I look at each other. We laugh.
My partner looks at me, “Did you actually give her your number?” I smirk. I respond, “The land line in Florida halfway around the country. My assistant checks the office once a week. I won’t hear any message until next month. She’s on vacation. She’ll lose interest by then. If she’s like most women, she won’t make the first move. I have no interest in calling. It will be chocked up to a night forgotten.”
THE WOLVES TRY ONE MORE TIME
We begin to pull up to valet. To both of our astonishment we see them. Two wolves walking towards the front door of the W.
“You have to be shitting me.” My partner blurts out. “Pull up past the entrance. I don’t want them to see us.”
I pull forward. We wait for them to enter. Good. They go in. They’re probably heading to the bar hoping to run into us one more time. We’ll sneak by. I pull up. As I am jumping out the Mercedes and handing the key to valet a glimmer catches my eye.
“Hey blue eyes. Or are they grey?”
I turn around.
You guessed it.
I walk around to the front of the W to allow valet to pull off. I’ve put in the check in to my wife. She knows I have arrived back at our hotel. What she doesn’t know is I’m engaged in a negotiation with two women about not having a proposition.
“Look ladies my partner has a 4am flight tomorrow. It’s about 11 in the evening. You both are beautiful. Maybe some other time.”
There is no relentless pursuit that doesn’t end with its climax.
“Look. We do private events. Private shows. You know. You could have us both. Either of you. We’re strippers by trade. We know how to do a lot.”
The hit for 21 finally came. The words which say,
“You can sleep with me and it doesn’t matter if your married. My values are already questionable and grey to some. Let’s make it a transactional thing. No one will ever know.”
THIS SHEPHERD IS LED BY ABOVE NOT BELOW
Ladies, let me be candid with you.
The only thing I have personally witnessed to consistently cause a man to make a choice to say “No” in this scenario is his absolute faith in monotheistic God who prohibits this behavior. Before deciding to be a Christ follower my reverence to scripture was not strong enough to allow me to say no to this scenario. Only looking for God’s example of piety, through scriptural teaching, did I understand there was a spiritual need to cure the condition of a worldly impulse.
If a man has conviction in his accountability for his soul many things are possible. A man who believes his moral values are being placed before his God has a good chance to reject this offer.
Ultimately what we call “Sin” is a higher standard than “Wrong”.
Right and wrong are debated.
Sin is not.
A man who is transparent about his life can be up front with his wife about him consenting to these situations. He is right for setting the standard, giving her an option to say yes or no and ultimately allowing her the choice to decide what type of relationship she wants. The same applies for a woman.
In a transparent up front circumstance the only issue is if the person has a creed which ascribes to prohibiting this. For a person may be “right” and at the same time “sinful”.
This is what we call a hypocrite. If there is no creed there is no hyporcrisy. There is only a difference of values.
My wife has nothing to worry about. I am both transparent and have a certain value system. How I go about it may be debated. None the less my results are the same.
Although, my professional hustle may look more hustle than profession — it’s an image. What we see can deceive us.
Perception and observation are not the same. For you to judge properly you must quantify what you see to critically assess what you are perceiving. Many see me doing something which appears questionable; only later to realize what they were actually observing was a man of integrity being tested by his God.
Typically, I do not fail tests with God. I have failed tests with People.
Don’t devalue an observation when its perception is misleading. Find high self-worth inside. Your worth exists. Unfortunately, not all my secrets will not be discovered in this free article. You must pick up a copy of my international best-selling book “I Made It Then I Didn’t” or order “Many Paths To Profit” for that.
The concept I teach in this article is free. My personal stories are not. Don’t let pennies get in the way of showing you something much more valuable than a dollar. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. To find in depth strategies on understanding how to separate false perceptions from observations is why I still do business despite the rumors of perception.
To Your Knowledge Success!
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Sources
1) The life of Christopher Knight Lopez a Professional Hustler turned International Best Seller and Published Author of “I Made It Then I Didn’t” & Co-Author of “Many Paths To Profit” with the original shark from Shark Tank Kevin Harrington.
2) The Gift of Fear: And Other Survival Signals That Protect Us from Violence. Becker, De Gavin. 1998.
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Certain elements in this story may have been fictionalized to illustrate a creative story. This is a form of artistic expression not narration of fact. Not a form of investment advice. Please consult a professional registered to give you advice about your individual circumstance. This article is for educational purposes and entertainment purposes only. Please do not email the author about advice on investing or strategies on making investments.
About Christopher: Christopher Knight Lopez is a Professional Hustler turned International Best Seller and Published Author of “I Made It Then I Didn’t” and Co-Author with Kevin “The Shark” Harrington “Many Paths To Profit”. Christopher has opened over 7 businesses in his 15-year career. Christopher’s purpose is to take advantage of various market-driven opportunities. Christopher is a certified Master Project Manager (MPM), and Accredited Financial Analyst (AFA). Christopher previously held his Series 65 securities license examination and was a Master Financial Planner (MFP). Christopher also held his General Lines — Life, Accident, Health & HMO. Christopher has managed a combined 286mm USD in reported Assets Under Management & Assets Under Advisement. Christopher has work experience in 33 countries, raised over 50mm USD for various businesses, and grossed over 13.0mm in his personal career. Christopher worked in the highly technical industries of: biotechnology, finance, securities, manufacturing, real estate, and residential mortgages. Christopher is a United States Air Force Veteran. Christopher has a passion for family, competitive sports, fishing, martial arts and advocacy for entrepreneurs. Christopher provides self-help classes for up-and-coming entrepreneurs. Christopher’s passion to mentor comes from belief that entrepreneurs need guidance. The world is full of conflicting information about entrepreneur identity. See more at www.christopherklopez.com.
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