Nothing new...

You go in prepared...
    with the right mindset;
        its nothing new
            you've done this before
                a few variations
                    here and there;
                first as a wingman,
            sometimes in a group,
        eventually on your own;
    you try to play it cool
try to be disconnected
    unaffected even
        its nothing new
            you psyche yourself
                run mental reps
                    try not to make
    a fool of yourself
        they run you through the intro
            pleasantries exchanged
                handshakes even?
                    smalltalk here and there
    then you realise
        the mark isnt there... yet
            you dribble your play...
                shuffle around
                    til the mark arrives

you get floored...
derailed even...
by sheer appearances?
by the intimidation
offered by the entourage
or just by the sheer rush
of seeing the mark
knowing... who
for the next
succeeding moments
will be intricately
listening
and picking you apart
beneath the casual
detached air;
        your palms sweat
            and your throat rasps
        in a dried out gasp
                you pace yourself
                    you pick your points
                        time it right...
        not too soon;
                else you look too eager...
        not too late;
                for she is fickle;
                        make your pitch
                                you flex
                                based on your reads;
                improvise...
    its nothing new...
        it ends;
            cast the line
                make the pitch
                    sell it soft!
    you get out
        and walk back
            feeling the cold
                hard pavement
                    through the fading
                    soles of your shoes
        a warmth runs
            through your belly;
                the scene lingers-
                    doubt eats
                        into your conscious;
        nothing new...
            it falls flat;
                with the resonance
                    of a thud...
        dead in the water
        without a chance...
        for it ended
        before it started
its nothing new
but its never
ever the same.
each one both better
and worse than the last.
I'm sick of the game.