Showing posts with label Class. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Class. Show all posts

Monday, September 9, 2013

I Attended a Class Called "How to Kiss a Girl"

"I haven't  had sex since Christopher Columbus sailed the ocean."

"All my female friends see me as a brother. I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"I spend nights in bed, just lying there, terrified of the thought of approaching someone."

Not being able to talk to women is stigmatized in a way that, say, not understanding Middle Eastern politics is not. But when Chris Luna, the founder of Craft of Charisma, which offers workshops such as "How to Kiss a Girl," asks the attendees to introduce themselves, they really open up.

Now, perhaps I hang out with too many Brooklyn hipsters, but when I first read the seminar's title, I thought it would be the sort of thing you "go to ironically." I pictured a room filled with people-watchers and snarky tweeters. Nope.

The guys (about 20 in all) are genuinely interested in learning something. Most are 25 to 35 years old, with a few college- and retirement-age gents mixed in. They hail from Russia, Germany, China, Egypt, New Jersey. At least 80 percent of them say they work as engineers.

Some have bad posture. Others make eye contact way too intensely. A few sport flip-flops and/or unkempt ponytails. Overall, though, these are not un-dateable hell-hounds.

After a bit of observation, I note their shared characteristic: they try too hard. They try to introduce themselves properly, rather than just saying hey. They try to pick out the perfect dating outfit, rather than just wearing clothes that make them feel good about themselves.

Our fearless leader Chris, meanwhile, looks a guy who doesn't need to be charming in order to attract women. My first thought upon seeing him is that he easily could have been a member of 98 Degrees. (But not *NSync, which is an important distinction.) I learn Chris founded the Craft of Charisma five years ago, and has been running it full-time for four and a half years.

He has four full-time employees, all of whom have completed his $4,000 "master class."

As I wonder what qualifies Chris to give dating advice, he tells me that I "look like a socially savvy person." Not gonna lie, I turn to putty a little bit. Touche, Dear Abs-y.

According to Chris, however, Zoolanderian chiseledness has virtually nothing to do with attracting a woman. He even talks of the time he "fell out of shape a few years ago," but still did quite well with the ladies. He scrolls through his phone to find a picture. He never finds the picture. The lesson marches onward.

"Attractiveness is about perceived value," Chris says throughout the class. "It's about putting yourself in a position where she sees you as a valuable commodity."

I later learn the context supporting his chosen verbiage: Chris was an economics major at Columbia. To him, dating shares many traits with a successful financial transaction. If you walk up to a woman confidently, she sees your value. If you then take a step back, you decrease supply. Which only increases demand.

"But," Chris laughs, "You can't take your product off the market entirely."

Exactly. It's why so many women want to date the McRib.

After his opening remarks, Chris shows us a flow chart:

Stranger ? Acquaintance ? Friend ? Intimate ? Sexual

The big question: how do you move from one category to the next?

"It's all about prolonged physical contact," Chris tells us.

This tidbit, like many from the seminar, rings true anecdotally. I recall meeting a buddy's new girlfriend. She blew past my handshake, opting instead for an enveloping hug. I thought, "Wow! I guess we're friends already." Without even saying hello, she had jumped two steps on the chart.

Chris then invites the attendees to stand up and practice the delicate art of entering, and then backing away from, a woman's personal space. A handshake affords you maybe three seconds of closeness before she feels invaded.

But if you find a reason to be close to her – perhaps you want to get a better look at her earrings – you buy yourself a bit of time. The longer your hand lingers on, say, her shoulder, the easier time you'll have the next time you want to touch her more intimately.

Bear in mind, we are practicing these lingering, romantic caresses on each other. My partner is a smiley management consultant we'll call Angus. Through every exercise, he is giggling and commenting on how ridiculous he feels. Spoiler alert: we got to second base.

Once we've mastered the slightly-longer-than-usual handshake, combined with a respectful-yet-firm Shoulder Touch, Chris demonstrates a more advanced move: letting go of the handshake, while simultaneously sliding your left hand from her right shoulder down  her arm ("Which excites her nerve endings!" according to Chris) into a seamless hand-hold.

And you do all of this while taking a nonchalant step backward so you're no longer in her personal space. We're just a couple of buddies now! Look at our hands, swinging carefreely down there!

"But what if she pulls away?" asks a Russian gentleman we'll call Pedro. "What if she's horrified?"

"It's a woman's prerogative to break her own rules," Chris responds, eliciting a few huh's and mmm's from the class.

Chris shares his story of a time when a girl pulled away as he went for a kiss. Undeterred, Chris simply told her, "Look, if you keep hanging out with me, I'm going to try that again." She kept hanging out with him. And eventually he got that kiss.

(It's a compelling tale, sure, but your cynical, still-putty-kneed columnist believes the girl who even fleetingly rejected Chris lives in the same fictional realm as the iPhone that allegedly contains a photo of Fat Chris.)

Chris continues: Navigating the dating world is about accessing an elaborate Decision Tree. Again, he's an Ivy League econ major.

If she's receptive to your first move ("Look for relaxed shoulders"), touch her hair or earrings, while providing a validating compliment.

If she isn't receptive ("Look for tension in the shoulders"), give her space, using a move known as the Roll-Off. Continue chatting from a less imposing position until you sense another opportunity to make physical contact.

The day ends with a former student providing a chillingly honest endorsement of the impact these classes have had on him. Chris also explains why he does this.

"The biggest problem that most people have is that they let their fears control them," Chris says. "It keeps them from going after what they really want."

Maybe a by-the-numbers technical approach to dating is exactly what these engineers need. Or perhaps these classes are less about the syllabus, and more about simply providing a training ground for guys to build up their confidence.

Either way, the next time you're approached at a bar, remember that this guy might be going through every insecurity you have and then some. He might be summoning every ounce of courage he can muster, while rejecting every terrifying doubt in his mind, just for the chance to buy you a drink.

And if you're the one doing the approaching, keep fighting the good fight. "Never was anything great achieved without danger," Macchiavelli has said. That dude knew his economics.

Photo: Sony


From Cosmopolitan.com. Visit Handbags reviews and advice for best reference here

Monday, May 20, 2013

Getting Your Vagina on the Ball: Inside My First Sexual Fitness Class

It’s Sunday afternoon and I’m at the gym grinding my crotch and anus into a medicine ball. I can explain. Today, I am taking a private exercise class called Women’s Sexual Fitness taught by 57-year-old chiropractor and personal trainer Edythe Heus. For the next 50 minutes, I am going to do things to a bouncy ball that would have me arrested in most states (definitely Texas). The point of the class is to use your lower abdominals to awaken sexual energy and strengthen orgasms. It's Pilates Gone Wild.

It all started back in 1997, when Edyth was living in Dana Point, Calif. working as a private chiropractor for Major League Baseball players. After a few months of training something strange happened. “One of the players came into my office and asked, ‘Am I supposed to feel really horny after doing these ab exercises?”

Edythe was secretly relieved that she wasn’t the only person who had a mean case of the tingles after training. “Then another client asked me the same thing, and another, and finally after ten people came to me with the same question, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I was like, ‘The universe is telling me something!’ So I decided to start my own program.”

Although she knew she was onto something good, she didn't unveil the program right away. Afraid that teaching a class with an erotic slant might discredit her as an athletic trainer, she kept her sexual fitness program under wraps. Now that she owns three gyms, has over 100 trainers working for her and a dedicated client base, she's ready to share her expertise. "I want people to perceive this class, not as anything pornographic, but as a natural, essential part of health, wellness and personal fulfillment."

On the gym's website the class is described as, "a 50 minute class for all women wishing to awaken or expand their sexual fitness and energy to give rise to improved pelvic floor tone, sexual pleasure, enhanced athleticism, abdominal tone and feminine empowerment."

I'm sold. I enroll in the class and head to Revolution in Motion gym in New York City. Before I leave the house, though, I call to ask about the dress code. What exactly does one wear to a sexual fitness class? "Just bring nipple tassles and a hula hoop," the receptionist said. No, she didn’t say that, she just told me to wear comfortable yoga clothes.

When I arrive at the gym, Edythe is there to greet me. Standing under five feet tall, with miniature hands and feet and a pixie haircut, she looks like Tinker Bell in Sporty Spice drag. In a form-fitting tank-top, I notice her sculpted arms, toned back and flat abs, there's not a wrinkle in sight. If I look that good at 57, I'm throwing myself a party.

"There is another class going on at the same time as ours," she explains. "So we have to share the room." That means that while Edythe shows me how to work my bone-zone another trainer five feet away is teaching students how to blast their quads. Awkward.

The first exercise Edythe has me do is bounce up-and-down on a ball. It's kind of weird at first because we are both silently bouncing in unison and staring at each other. It feels like we're in some surreal performance art piece. I'm not sure if I should smile or say something. Thankfully, Edythe rescues me with some instructions. “I want you to feel your entire vagina on the ball, really press it on there.” Then she stares at my privates and asks, “Are you feeling anything?”

I make eye contact with one of the men doing calf-lifts on the other side of the gym and get red.

“Well...are you?”

“Yes,” I shame-mumble to the floor. “It feels kinda tingly.”

“Great! That’s just what we want!” She beams. “We are trying to move energy from your vagina to the top of your head. Tell me when you’re head is buzzing.”

After a couple more minutes, I start to relax and have some fun. “What’s so weird about two adult women doing synchronized erotic bouncing, anyway?” I ask myself.

After we both get mildly light-headed, we switch to another move. Straddling the ball we slowly move our hips from side-to-side. Within five seconds I realize something new about myself: I LOVE WORKING OUT! I am totally turned on and I even feel my abs getting stronger. By this point both Edythe and I are feeling way more relaxed and silly. We start cracking dirty jokes and acting like old drinking buddies.

The next exercise is on the floor. With our backs on the ground we lift up our hips and place our feet on the ball. Our legs are open wide in a diamond shape, stretching out the groin.

“This is a good exercise to prepare you for missionary-style sex and cunnilingus because it helps you to relax with your legs open.” “Oh, don’t worry Edythe, I know how to relax in this position.” We high-five.

After a couple more floor exercises and squats we are ready for the final cool down. The last exercise of class is maybe the best thing I've ever done. You just drape yourself onto the ball and rock back and forth until you're in a deep trance.

By the time class is over I feel like I've had a full body massage— just completely relaxed and totally horny. As I gather my things to leave Edythe calls out to me, "Good luck, Rose! I hope you have sex tonight!" Me, too Edythe, me too.

I turned to look around the studio one more time before leaving. I am sort of sad to part ways with the medicine ball after everything we've been through. “I’ll never forget you," I whisper to the used piece of gym equipment and then turn and walk away.

Want more musings from Rose? Follow her on Twitter.


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