Instruction

Eric was an honest man. He had no intention of holding anything back, so he taught as he spoke, starting from the very beginning.

"Assume you've picked out a target. You walk straight up to her, cut right to the chase, and don't pay much attention to the people around her."

"What if she's snuggled up in her boyfriend's arms?" Song Ya was deeply impressed by this boast Joe had made earlier.

Eric laughed. "You aren't planning on walking up and saying you want a one-night stand, are you? That's way too direct. You have to do it like this: pretend you're just there to find her. For example: 'You are... uh...'" He acted out the expression of someone trying to recognize a girl but struggling to recall her name. "At this point, the other person will usually introduce themselves, like, 'I'm so-and-so, right?'"

"Hmm." Song Ya simulated the scene in his mind. It checked out.

"Exactly! 'Oh, right! I know you! I heard Carl mention you.'" Eric slipped into character. "Al works too. Just throw out any name. If her boyfriend is around, use a common girl's name, like Jenny or Mary..."

"Uh-huh, and then?"

"Then you say: 'Carl said you have a real talent for art or that you sing pretty well.'" Eric pulled out a stack of business cards. "That's when you introduce yourself, point at the Joe Music sign, and say: 'I'm from the music company across the street. Want to come up and try a recording?' If they don't believe you, just hand them a card."

"It's that simple?"

"It's that simple. Just wait. About a third of the chicks will come with me on the spot, a third will think about it for a few minutes to half an hour before coming, and the last third will call me within a few days."

"That's a hundred percent success rate!"

"Pretty much. The ones who call might not show up, so maybe eighty or ninety percent."

"Won't their boyfriends and other friends try to stop them?"

"Idiot, most girls can't resist that kind of temptation. It's just a recording session, right? It's not like anything will happen. What if it's a real opportunity? Shouldn't they seize it? If her female friends try to talk her out of it, she'll think it's out of jealousy. If her boyfriend tries, she'll think it's just a man's possessiveness. So, even if they don't come with me right then, they'll find a way to sneak away from their boyfriends and friends to contact me later."

"That actually makes sense!" Song Ya was learning. "But what if her friends and boyfriend insist on coming to the studio with her?"

"That's where Carl comes in. He'll keep the 'unwanted guests' outside. So, you should build a relationship with Carl; he's actually a pretty easy guy to talk to."

"Hmm..." Song Ya recalled his first impression of Carl. Those tattoos covering his face were indeed quite intimidating. "And then what?"

"Heh heh." Eric gave a sly laugh. "Once you've got them upstairs, it's even easier." He sat on the desk opposite Song Ya. "Step one: get her to sit down and chat. For instance, if she's sitting where you are now, I'd sit on the desk, make some small talk, and make sure this..." He pointed to his own thigh, "...is positioned right in her line of sight."

"Hmm..." Song Ya realized that was indeed directly in his line of sight.

"This trick is the most common form of suggestion. White guys have been using it for hundreds of years. Simple and effective." Eric shifted the blame. "At the same time, you have to brag about yourself as much as possible. Tell her you can package her, make her a star, or that you can record a single or an album for her... Just keep painting a picture for her, targeting her dream of stardom."

"Will they fall for it?"

"Some will. They'll start touching my leg on their own, heh heh heh... For all we know, their boyfriends might still be waiting downstairs." Eric stroked his own leg, smiling even more wickedly. "But the ones who are that proactive are usually no good. The ones who are left—the ones who really don't understand the suggestion or pretend not to—are a bit harder to deal with."

"Continue, what about the difficult ones?"

"Next is recording the song. You have to give them a little sweetness. Let them into the booth and have them sing a song they're good at." Eric walked over to the mixing console. "After they finish, you compare their raw vocals to the tuned version. It's like plastic surgery for a girl. You show her that you have the power to make her voice beautiful. That feeling is probably the same as having her appearance improved by you. Trust me, many girls will be * on the spot."

The effect is that good? Looks like I need to learn more about mixing... Song Ya thought.

"At this point, I'll have the girl stand at the mixing console to try it herself, teaching her on the spot..." Eric wrapped his arms around the air, performing with great seriousness.

"What if she still refuses?"

"Then I use my standard weapon!" Eric took a bottle of the Chivas that Old Morgan loved from the liquor cabinet. "Don't you want a drink after singing? Don't you want to celebrate with a drink after the recording? This is a mix of cheap brandy and vodka I made. It hits you fast! Of course, I'm a man with a bottom line; I don't drug people."

Standard weapon? I feel bad for Old Morgan!

"Of course, you can't pour too much. Just enough to get them dizzy makes things easier." Eric put the bottle back.

"What if that still doesn't work?"

"Then there's nothing to be done. If it's a half-hearted refusal, okay. If it's a clear 'no,' then you have to let them go. After all, I am a..."

"Man with a bottom line."

"Right, exactly. You have to stick to your bottom line, otherwise, things get messy."

"But..." Song Ya still felt something was off. "If you don't take responsibility afterward, won't you have trouble? Many girls won't just let it go, right? Especially since you promised them singles and stardom."

"Sigh, I'm just a small-time sound engineer. What can they do?" Eric's mood suddenly turned listless, and he lay back on the sofa. "Don't worry, most girls are very practical. When they realize I'm actually a small fry, they won't waste too much time on me."

"So they won't pester a small fry, but what about a big shot? Like Little Lowry?" Song Ya pressed.

"That's completely different. If it were Little Lowry, the girls wouldn't let go. After a while, when Little Lowry's new album comes out, he'll even have to start guarding against girls who are overly enthusiastic with ulterior motives. Actually, it's the same for you. The song you wrote, Thrift Shop, is really good. If those chicks realize you're a talented guy who can write lyrics and music, trust me, you'll have a hard time shaking them off too."

"You've been talking for ages, so this whole romantic routine is useless on me, right!?" Song Ya was furious and shoved his paper and pen back into his briefcase.

This time, Eric didn't provide an answer. A few seconds later, a loud, high-pitched snoring sound filled the room.