Back in the remote past when “getting laid” was a singular goal, the strategies that worked best for me were:
a) trolling sci-fi conventions for differently-adjusted girls who had no idea they were supposed to be completely unattainable and would hop into bed with you if were able to demonstrate a sufficiently obscure sense of humour, even if you were 5’4" and had feet like a hobbit. (Perhaps even because you were 5’4" and had feet like a hobbit.)
b) throwing psychedelic projections for head bands and at warehouse parties and having a ready supply of recreational pharmaceuticals.
These days, what seems to work is observing that (incredibly!) we may just have a narrow window of opportunity in which to manage the deed. My, how times change.