If I was in Brazil at Club Help and saw these two on the dance floor I’d give him a wink and a nod for scoring a sexy prostitute at what I imagine would be a reasonable price, but this was taken in Washington DC.
The guy does not possess any obvious player qualities. In fact, he would be a good example of the anti-player: he’s way out of shape, he has the sleeves of his stale stripped shirt rolled up to reveal what appears to be a calculator watch, and he makes zero attempt to enhance his look with something like creative facial hair. But there is something relaxing about his Chris Farley-like smirk.
The girl is obviously having fun. Judging by the way she is dressed and the care she put into her hair, she wants to continue that fun in the bedroom by engaging in sex. The question is with who. Does she seem like the type of girl that would let any overweight white guy put his meaty paw on her waist and his crotch on her ass? Ultimately, the answer lies with body language.
They’re out on their third date. This man is a player.