I notice her from across the club
She entered with an entourage of trophies
But she's the prize, my friends
Strobe lights flash, the base beat drops, and I go cold
Say goodnight to casual, I'm a predator now
I'm not the only one either, skulls turn like bobble-heads
Beauty is the instinctual magnet of real men
But these are lesser men than I tonight
I begin my advance, so smooth, so slow
Amused as I watch the pawns strike out one by one
They're unknowing set-up men, necessary accomplices
I'm a lion with blinders, there's nothing I want more
As she mercilessly rejects her third would -be suitor,
She glances up and finds my eyes through the horde
A slight smile briefly breaks across her facade, aware.
She's looking forward to a challenge,
Some entertaining banter followed by anticipated rebuff
She knows so little about my manner, my method.
A talent with words, a power with persuasion
I've mastered the mystique of a man who could care less
She came to play her game, I came to take my prize
I envelop her in pre-designed conversation
Her mask drops quickly and her routine falters
The ambiance is heavy, the drinks are strong
This neutral court has shifted into home field
Her slightly chunky friend knows exactly what I am
But her discreet counsel reeks of jealousy and resent
I learned to bypass chaperones with ease long ago
As we exit the chaos in semi-haste, the irony sets in.
Once again the question persists at this familiar point.
Is the best yet to come, or has it already passed?
In the morning, prize by my side, the query remains
I reflect and admire the parade of events that led us here
In comic fashion I desperately attempt to recall her name
While considering the utter success of my greatest skill.
The Flawless Art of Execution