She didn’t seem to have any particular aversion to me. In fact, based on her body language, I think she might have been enjoying my company. She touched my arm a lot and laughed at things I said. She held eye contact to let me know she was interested. She was tall.
Eventually the conversation started to stagnate. We ran out of things to say to each other. That happens. Not a big deal. I left her for a while because YouTube videos I have watched on the topic of getting women to like me have said that this is a good idea. Instead of dragging out a point in conversation where things become less interesting, you leave her with a positive impression of yourself that stays on her mind for the rest of the night. And she will wait for you to come back. If you’re some sort of super stud, you can try this out on multiple women and by the end of the night have a whole collection of them longing for your dry wit and masculine musk.
In the meantime one of my friends provided me with a concise list of reasons for which 9/11 was orchestrated by the US government. I tried to keep up and occasionally interjected with my own made up conspiracy theories. Another one of my friends asked me for my opinion of his hair. It had great volume, I told him. And we agreed that modern-day club music is a shit cycle of thirty seconds of a song people recognise followed by a drop followed by a couple of minutes of generic beats for people who lack the confidence to soberly interact with one another.