The other night I had a sleepover. It was one of the best sleepovers I ever had. It was so much fun.

We all got together around 3:00 in the afternoon.

We had some peanut butter on crackers, a great little late afternoon snack.

We got some money and went to Dave and Buster’s and won a couple of remote control cars and some other fun little toys, yo-yos and “whoopie cushions.”

We went back to the house. We cuddled up on the sofa and we watched “Ice Age.”

By the time we went to bed, the three of us read books. Two of us read while the other one listened intently because she still doesn’t know how to read, but that didn’t matter. By the time we all fell asleep it was late, almost 10:00pm — way past the little one’s bedtime.

It was one of the best sleepovers I have ever had. I had to take care of a friend’s child as well as my own. It was my ex’s birthday.

They all went out. They went to a place called “The Bungalow.”

The Bungalow is where everybody goes to be really

You know the type of place.

You’ve got to pay money to sit down at a table and drink for an ungodly amount of money.

Most people in there are on their cell phones texting, taking selfies with each other, and generally being narcissistic.

Guys will walk around these places hitting on women with absolutely no game. Literally asking women if they would like to take a walk on the beach after talking to her for five minutes. That approach works absolutely never.

It’s a place where you are meant to be cool, spend lots of money, and dress well. The average person probably walks out on a Saturday night spending a couple hundred dollars.

The average guy walks out after spending those couple hundred dollars and ends up going home and masturbating to Internet porn. Why? Because he didn’t get lucky. That was a very expensive load. Actually it was an alcohol-induced load that ended up either on his stomach or over his sink, or hopefully, God forbid, not on his iPad or his keyboard.

Being cool is expensive and so not worth it. It’s not that I’m old. It’s not that I don’t have fun. It’s not that I’m not fucking cool.

It’s just that standing in a place and handing my money over so I can listen to loud music and not communicate with anybody isn’t fun. In most of these places, most people are just posers. The majority of people have no game. They don’t know how to interact with women. The women don’t know how to interact with men. They just go there and look hot, and hopefully some guy will wow them over and get their attention away from their Facebook obsession – likes, posts, selfies.

Go out and take a look.

I want you to go out to the cool place. You usually go out to the cool place and spend lots of money. I want you to do “an opposite” this time. Doing an opposite is doing a Constanza, for those of you who are Seinfeld fans. I want you to do the opposite. I want you to go out and I want you to just look.

I want you to watch people being cool. I want you to take a look at what the groups of women do and what the groups of men do.

I want you to do this like you’re filming a movie.  I want you to look at the characters. I want you to be able to predict the characters that don’t get laid. I want you to be able to predict the guys that are going home and jerking off. I want you to predict the women that are impossible to connect with.

I want you to do this because I want you to see that being cool is not worth it. I’m not saying going out at night is bad. But there are better places to do it than to go to the place where everybody is cool and everybody wants to be in.

Usually the best place in town is the worst place to go to because everybody’s there being cool, taking pictures, snapping shots, looking at each other, taking selfies. Women in packs. Men in wolf-packs. Nobody is connecting and everybody is trying to get laid.

Around midnight, you get the desperation hour. People are desperately trying to hit on each other. Usually it’s the men. The women are never, no matter how drunk they may be, walking up to guys and asking them to take a walk on the beach. It’s 12:30am, 1:00am, and that’s just a dude thing to do.

It’s amazing how a guy would actually think that would work. “Let’s go take a walk on the beach. We’ve known each other for a minute.” Imagine what a woman thinks.

Sure, that sounds like a safe thing to do.

I mean it’s amazing how many men don’t even realize that. She doesn’t know you. She has no idea who you are. There’s no way in the world she’s going to take a walk on the beach with you. You could be a crazy, psycho Dexter Morgan serial killer.

I want you to do that. I want you to go out and look at what cool people do. I want you to tell me what you want to be.

Because I’m cool as hell.

You know why I’m cool?

Because I don’t go to those places. They’re a waste of time, they’re a waste of money, they’re a waste of energy. Cool people don’t go there. Do you want to know what cool people do? We’ll talk about it in two blogs. Stay tuned!