"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Peaks and Valleys
This entry is fairly self-reflective but hopefully will cover some inner game issues. Anyway, these past fews day I've been wrapping up Part 3 of my bio (it'll be up soon, promise Khaki!), reflecting on my PUA journey, and moping around work and my apartment due to some disappointing flakes by quality women...and I think I'm hitting (for me) the most difficult sticking point in PUA: End game.
I've worked my game up to the point where I can approach girls I'd deem "dream girls" (HB9+), not get blown out, get enough attraction to either k-close or n-close, not have them flake, run enough phone game to get them on the D2, get them on the D2 and either escalate sexually (i.e. making out) or complete f-close, but then they lose interest somewhere between the D2 and the next time I text/call them...
(Writing out that last paragraph I think I found my answer, but first I want to detail the thoughts going through my head today...)
Okay, I believe this is the hardest part of the game because it's emotionally soul-destroying. I guess a fitting metaphor for how I feel every time one of these girls flakes on me is if someone were to show you a brand new shinny red Corvette with a bow on it. Throw you the keys and say, "It's yours! ...but wait, first I want to teach you a lesson". Then, you step aside as they load in one of those crash test dummies and smash it into a wall. As you sit there in horror and shock, the guy says, "THAT was to teach you about safety. I'll bet you'll think twice next time you don't buckle up!" And, while you may have learned your lesson, you're still like, "wtf dude, that was a beautiful car and you wrecked it for a frivolous educational reason..."
It's not fun.
You see, every other stage of "the game" is just that A GAME. For example: approaching. I got good at approaching once I stopped taking it seriously. It became a fun activity to just walk up to some HB, say whatever might or might not work and get her reaction. There were certain rules I realized I had to follow if I wanted the approach to work (i.e. good BL, voice projection, projecting value/confidence, the 90/10 rule, etc.) and now I can consistently hook about 90% of the sets I open. As for the ones that blow me out still, I can always trace it back to a mistake I made (i.e. bad BL, weak voice projection, etc.)
Even A2/A3 became fun once I disassociated myself with outcome. Even though I may have hooked a HB9 or 10 and blown myself out in A2/A3 because of lack of attraction material, I still didn't feel shitty about it because A2/A3 is still a game with specific rules to follow. If I fucked up, it was because I was violating a rule and could usually pinpoint it and tweak my game.
However, for me, this metaphor of "the game" being "just a game" doesn't hold up during end game. While I taunt grounding/vulnerability stories while actively qualifying as the key to D2s, they're not really tactics. They're actually who I am. While they may be canned and scripted and FT'd, they're still all things that actually happened to me and I really am making myself vulnerable by telling them. I know this post reeks of emotional baggage and "wuss-ness" (and I'll be a little embarrassed next time I see Ga'ash...but he doesn't read long posts anyway haha...) but it's true. When I'm on a D2 with a 9, 10 or (in rare cases) an 11 and I start to quality her, get her to open up to me, start prodding at her insecurities and dreams and fears and passions, I genuinely feel we ARE making a connection...
Like, for me, it's an incredible feeling to sit across from a girl who previously was completely "out of my league", who wouldn't even have had a conversation with me (let alone go on a "date" with me) and watch her chase me and get nervous that I don't like her, laugh at all my jokes..even when they're not that funny. Sometimes I just sit back and watch these girls - who I'd always assumed were just "super hot bitches" - display their human emotions and fears for me. I know when I look into their eyes and see how human these "objects of beauty" really are, it makes me forget about the game, PUA, acting like "The Judge" and I simply see these girls as potential girlfriends, someone I could actually bring into my life as more than just HB10Frenchie or sHB11SuperModel or sHB11MissUSABeautyQueen or HB9Russian or HB9AsianModel. These girls suddenly become real to me and the possibility of them actually falling for me becomes real. (I know that was the sappiest bunch of crap you'd ever expect to read on a PUA blog...but I wrote it to try and describe how I feel...also, keep in mind I am a master of hiding my internal state so while all this is running through my head, my PUA game is unswerving and consistent...most of the time)
When the D2 ends and my state is pumped with possibility, I usually run to this blog and post my success and happiness (notice I almost always post a FR after one of these quality D2s). I usually have a hard time sleeping that night and roll through work the next day hardly able to concrete on anything but how awesome banging a model was or how amazing it was to make out with a girl who's a perfect 10...
Then, the other shoe drops.
For whatever reason, my newest sticking point has been AFTER the D2, and AFTER I've gotten quality IOIs, and AFTER I feel I've put it all the line and succeeded, these girls flake! Since it's a rare situation which most guys who get into PUA never face, there's not a huge demand for products that address this issue, so I'm pretty much in the dark about how to proceed (not that I should be running to PUA literature for every problem I hit). I even tried posting a problem I had with HB10Frenchie on the VA boards and got atrocious advice that definitely DID NOT WORK. (Also, I was FTing another experiment: I wanted to see if guys could actually give good advice based on a "situation" rather than just advice in general...what I found is guys can only give advice in general and specific situations are impossible to give advice on...but more on this later).
Anyway, while I know this is a sticking point I'll eventually figure out and break through, it's not as easy as learning to approach or learning to get attraction. This is literally learning how to make a girl you actually want as a potential life partner fall in love with you. Failing at this point is much harder because I'm not failing as "The Judge", I'm failing as "Bobby" (my real world name lol).
(Also, I don't mean to sound like a little bitch crying because some model pumped and dumped me...I know there are far worse situations to be dealing with and the fact I'm nailing and making out with these girls should plug up my tears, but I've been despondent all day and feel like putting myself out there because I love you guys and feel this is another aspect of the game we all go through.)
Anyway, I'm going to end this post and maybe even delete it when I get home (I hate rereading my non-fiction writing when I'm in a negative state...it's always trash whereas I write my most amazing fiction when I'm miserable.) but if this is helpful to anyone, let me know.
I feel a little better writing this, even if I'm still staring at the smoldering wreckage of a perfectly good Corvette that's supposed to teach me a lesson I still haven't learned....
...yet.
I've worked my game up to the point where I can approach girls I'd deem "dream girls" (HB9+), not get blown out, get enough attraction to either k-close or n-close, not have them flake, run enough phone game to get them on the D2, get them on the D2 and either escalate sexually (i.e. making out) or complete f-close, but then they lose interest somewhere between the D2 and the next time I text/call them...
(Writing out that last paragraph I think I found my answer, but first I want to detail the thoughts going through my head today...)
Okay, I believe this is the hardest part of the game because it's emotionally soul-destroying. I guess a fitting metaphor for how I feel every time one of these girls flakes on me is if someone were to show you a brand new shinny red Corvette with a bow on it. Throw you the keys and say, "It's yours! ...but wait, first I want to teach you a lesson". Then, you step aside as they load in one of those crash test dummies and smash it into a wall. As you sit there in horror and shock, the guy says, "THAT was to teach you about safety. I'll bet you'll think twice next time you don't buckle up!" And, while you may have learned your lesson, you're still like, "wtf dude, that was a beautiful car and you wrecked it for a frivolous educational reason..."
It's not fun.
You see, every other stage of "the game" is just that A GAME. For example: approaching. I got good at approaching once I stopped taking it seriously. It became a fun activity to just walk up to some HB, say whatever might or might not work and get her reaction. There were certain rules I realized I had to follow if I wanted the approach to work (i.e. good BL, voice projection, projecting value/confidence, the 90/10 rule, etc.) and now I can consistently hook about 90% of the sets I open. As for the ones that blow me out still, I can always trace it back to a mistake I made (i.e. bad BL, weak voice projection, etc.)
Even A2/A3 became fun once I disassociated myself with outcome. Even though I may have hooked a HB9 or 10 and blown myself out in A2/A3 because of lack of attraction material, I still didn't feel shitty about it because A2/A3 is still a game with specific rules to follow. If I fucked up, it was because I was violating a rule and could usually pinpoint it and tweak my game.
However, for me, this metaphor of "the game" being "just a game" doesn't hold up during end game. While I taunt grounding/vulnerability stories while actively qualifying as the key to D2s, they're not really tactics. They're actually who I am. While they may be canned and scripted and FT'd, they're still all things that actually happened to me and I really am making myself vulnerable by telling them. I know this post reeks of emotional baggage and "wuss-ness" (and I'll be a little embarrassed next time I see Ga'ash...but he doesn't read long posts anyway haha...) but it's true. When I'm on a D2 with a 9, 10 or (in rare cases) an 11 and I start to quality her, get her to open up to me, start prodding at her insecurities and dreams and fears and passions, I genuinely feel we ARE making a connection...
Like, for me, it's an incredible feeling to sit across from a girl who previously was completely "out of my league", who wouldn't even have had a conversation with me (let alone go on a "date" with me) and watch her chase me and get nervous that I don't like her, laugh at all my jokes..even when they're not that funny. Sometimes I just sit back and watch these girls - who I'd always assumed were just "super hot bitches" - display their human emotions and fears for me. I know when I look into their eyes and see how human these "objects of beauty" really are, it makes me forget about the game, PUA, acting like "The Judge" and I simply see these girls as potential girlfriends, someone I could actually bring into my life as more than just HB10Frenchie or sHB11SuperModel or sHB11MissUSABeautyQueen or HB9Russian or HB9AsianModel. These girls suddenly become real to me and the possibility of them actually falling for me becomes real. (I know that was the sappiest bunch of crap you'd ever expect to read on a PUA blog...but I wrote it to try and describe how I feel...also, keep in mind I am a master of hiding my internal state so while all this is running through my head, my PUA game is unswerving and consistent...most of the time)
When the D2 ends and my state is pumped with possibility, I usually run to this blog and post my success and happiness (notice I almost always post a FR after one of these quality D2s). I usually have a hard time sleeping that night and roll through work the next day hardly able to concrete on anything but how awesome banging a model was or how amazing it was to make out with a girl who's a perfect 10...
Then, the other shoe drops.
For whatever reason, my newest sticking point has been AFTER the D2, and AFTER I've gotten quality IOIs, and AFTER I feel I've put it all the line and succeeded, these girls flake! Since it's a rare situation which most guys who get into PUA never face, there's not a huge demand for products that address this issue, so I'm pretty much in the dark about how to proceed (not that I should be running to PUA literature for every problem I hit). I even tried posting a problem I had with HB10Frenchie on the VA boards and got atrocious advice that definitely DID NOT WORK. (Also, I was FTing another experiment: I wanted to see if guys could actually give good advice based on a "situation" rather than just advice in general...what I found is guys can only give advice in general and specific situations are impossible to give advice on...but more on this later).
Anyway, while I know this is a sticking point I'll eventually figure out and break through, it's not as easy as learning to approach or learning to get attraction. This is literally learning how to make a girl you actually want as a potential life partner fall in love with you. Failing at this point is much harder because I'm not failing as "The Judge", I'm failing as "Bobby" (my real world name lol).
(Also, I don't mean to sound like a little bitch crying because some model pumped and dumped me...I know there are far worse situations to be dealing with and the fact I'm nailing and making out with these girls should plug up my tears, but I've been despondent all day and feel like putting myself out there because I love you guys and feel this is another aspect of the game we all go through.)
Anyway, I'm going to end this post and maybe even delete it when I get home (I hate rereading my non-fiction writing when I'm in a negative state...it's always trash whereas I write my most amazing fiction when I'm miserable.) but if this is helpful to anyone, let me know.
I feel a little better writing this, even if I'm still staring at the smoldering wreckage of a perfectly good Corvette that's supposed to teach me a lesson I still haven't learned....
...yet.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
My honest assessment of my life when I joined the community
When I first joined the community, I had no idea what was going on. I flailed around on the forums a bit, helplessly posting things like "how do I generate attraction?" and asking how game worked in high school. Finally someone - who shall remain anonymous, out of respect to them - sent me a PM offering me help and asking me to reply to them with a "brutally honest" assessment of my life. After I sent him that PM, the guy was incredibly helpful for a long time before disappearing. I am extremely thankful for him.
On a whim, I just read over the PM. Looking at it now, I realized that it's the kind of thing that I enjoy reading as the first part of a transformation post. I'm reposting it here, because you guys might like it and it seems like the kind of thing this blog is set up for (plus, you guys deserve to know a little bit about who I am). I'm also protesting the fact that Judge has yet to write the third part of his life story post!
Here's what I wrote:
I think I spend most of my time at high school with the "loser" crowd. I eat lunch with them and like to play cards with them during my free time. But I also have some friends who are in the "cool" crowd who I talk to at school a lot. So I wouldn't say I'm really at the bottom of the foodchain, but I'm definitely in the lower part. I don't really have any super-close friends like I did at the end of middle school, but I'm getting closer to certain other people who are around the same status as me.
When I was a freshman, I had what I now recognize as horrible inner game. I mean I went from being well-put at my old school (K-8) with some really close friends to never seeing my close friends and being cast into an environment where I didn't really have any friends. What's worse, my high school had a 7th and 8th grade program that some kids, not including me, went to, so it felt like everyone already knew eachother when I got there. We had very limited free time early on, but I sat by myself at lunch at first before taking the easy road out and sitting with the "loser" group I now spend time with. During the few free times I had, I spent most of my time in the library, hunched over, afraid to look up for fear that, well, I don't even know what I was afraid of.
I got really bitter really fast, and started to resent everyone who, well, did anything I envied. Eventually, I started to make really mean comments about the people I hated the most, who were, not surprisingly, widely regarded as awful by the rest of the school. This was my link into the popular group, and I began to exploit how "hilarious" people thought I was. So I really quickly got this reputation for making really mean but really funny comments.
As a sophomore I was also a mess. I had more free time, but at first I spent all of it in the library instead of the place where most of the other kids usually hung out. I would say "come to the library with me" to my friends who I had just eaten lunch, and be really disappointed when they went to the student lounge to play cards - with the exact same people I spent my time with. I was terrified of going in there and I always just sulked off the library to hunch over like a freshman. In a way, being a sophomore was worse because we never really had any hazing at our school and I had more free time to run away from.
Towards the end of the year, I realized that I had a major problem. I had been completely transformed for the worse from the end of middle school. I hadn't had to make friends since I was really little, so I had no experience and I just sort of shrank from the challenge. At this point I decided "fuck this, my life can't get much worse by walking into the student lounge." And this was the beginning of my transformation. I went to play cards with one of my friends one day. My heart was in my mouth as I walked through the room, gazing with contemptuous envy at the people around me who looked so casual.
My friends and some people I didn't really know well were playing some card game I had never heard of before. I had awful body language and my voice was trembling (which is weird for me, because I'm a very boisterous person), but I asked what they were playing and how to play. Finally, the bell rang. I had survived. After that, I made every effort to spend as much time there as possible. I made a special effort to walk through the lounge part of the building (which has two doors on opposite sides) when I was going from one side to the other. This has had a huge impact on me, and I'm now completely comfortable in the student lounge.
Right now, I'm a junior. I have better body language (I still don't know much about body language... I just stand up straight, don't look down, and don't act terrified to look up), and I know I'm much better off than I used to be. But I still have so far to go.
Oh, also, I've never been to a dance or a party at high school. I used to go to the dances at my middle school, but those are obviously hugely different. I never really saw a reason to do it here because I wasn't great friends with anybody and most of my friends, the loser crowd, didn't go. So I have no idea what to wear or really how any of that works at all. I've also never kissed, held hands with, or gone out with a girl before.
I'm both embarrassed and proud to post that. It should be pretty obvious why that's embarrassing... and I'm proud because of how much I've changed. This is a great setup for a part two "transformation to PUA" post...
But there is no Part 2. Right now, my life is good: I like people, and I don't care what they think, although I'm pretty damn sure they like me a lot more than they used to. But I still need a lot of work to become a fully-fledged PUA. A second post on this subject wouldn't say anything, so I'm not going to be writing it. Yet.
On a whim, I just read over the PM. Looking at it now, I realized that it's the kind of thing that I enjoy reading as the first part of a transformation post. I'm reposting it here, because you guys might like it and it seems like the kind of thing this blog is set up for (plus, you guys deserve to know a little bit about who I am). I'm also protesting the fact that Judge has yet to write the third part of his life story post!
Here's what I wrote:
I think I spend most of my time at high school with the "loser" crowd. I eat lunch with them and like to play cards with them during my free time. But I also have some friends who are in the "cool" crowd who I talk to at school a lot. So I wouldn't say I'm really at the bottom of the foodchain, but I'm definitely in the lower part. I don't really have any super-close friends like I did at the end of middle school, but I'm getting closer to certain other people who are around the same status as me.
When I was a freshman, I had what I now recognize as horrible inner game. I mean I went from being well-put at my old school (K-8) with some really close friends to never seeing my close friends and being cast into an environment where I didn't really have any friends. What's worse, my high school had a 7th and 8th grade program that some kids, not including me, went to, so it felt like everyone already knew eachother when I got there. We had very limited free time early on, but I sat by myself at lunch at first before taking the easy road out and sitting with the "loser" group I now spend time with. During the few free times I had, I spent most of my time in the library, hunched over, afraid to look up for fear that, well, I don't even know what I was afraid of.
I got really bitter really fast, and started to resent everyone who, well, did anything I envied. Eventually, I started to make really mean comments about the people I hated the most, who were, not surprisingly, widely regarded as awful by the rest of the school. This was my link into the popular group, and I began to exploit how "hilarious" people thought I was. So I really quickly got this reputation for making really mean but really funny comments.
As a sophomore I was also a mess. I had more free time, but at first I spent all of it in the library instead of the place where most of the other kids usually hung out. I would say "come to the library with me" to my friends who I had just eaten lunch, and be really disappointed when they went to the student lounge to play cards - with the exact same people I spent my time with. I was terrified of going in there and I always just sulked off the library to hunch over like a freshman. In a way, being a sophomore was worse because we never really had any hazing at our school and I had more free time to run away from.
Towards the end of the year, I realized that I had a major problem. I had been completely transformed for the worse from the end of middle school. I hadn't had to make friends since I was really little, so I had no experience and I just sort of shrank from the challenge. At this point I decided "fuck this, my life can't get much worse by walking into the student lounge." And this was the beginning of my transformation. I went to play cards with one of my friends one day. My heart was in my mouth as I walked through the room, gazing with contemptuous envy at the people around me who looked so casual.
My friends and some people I didn't really know well were playing some card game I had never heard of before. I had awful body language and my voice was trembling (which is weird for me, because I'm a very boisterous person), but I asked what they were playing and how to play. Finally, the bell rang. I had survived. After that, I made every effort to spend as much time there as possible. I made a special effort to walk through the lounge part of the building (which has two doors on opposite sides) when I was going from one side to the other. This has had a huge impact on me, and I'm now completely comfortable in the student lounge.
Right now, I'm a junior. I have better body language (I still don't know much about body language... I just stand up straight, don't look down, and don't act terrified to look up), and I know I'm much better off than I used to be. But I still have so far to go.
Oh, also, I've never been to a dance or a party at high school. I used to go to the dances at my middle school, but those are obviously hugely different. I never really saw a reason to do it here because I wasn't great friends with anybody and most of my friends, the loser crowd, didn't go. So I have no idea what to wear or really how any of that works at all. I've also never kissed, held hands with, or gone out with a girl before.
I'm both embarrassed and proud to post that. It should be pretty obvious why that's embarrassing... and I'm proud because of how much I've changed. This is a great setup for a part two "transformation to PUA" post...
But there is no Part 2. Right now, my life is good: I like people, and I don't care what they think, although I'm pretty damn sure they like me a lot more than they used to. But I still need a lot of work to become a fully-fledged PUA. A second post on this subject wouldn't say anything, so I'm not going to be writing it. Yet.
The AFC Ultimatum
Sorry for this post being so long. If you don't want to read it all of this post the next two paragraphs are just basically my background and venting, so you can skip those if you want. Also, i posted this same post on the Judge's courtship and the puafieldguide forum so if you are on both then I will let you know that it is the same post. The point of the post is kind of in response to something judge put in his blog that we should publicly issue challenge to ourselves, so here goes.
Okay, so I am 25 year old AFC KJ. I found this community about six or seven months ago, and have read and watched pretty much every piece of seduction material available. I have tried to go out and make approaches I probably have made somewhere between 15 - 20 during my time here. Now it is not as if I am an introvert or anything, on the contrary I go out quite a bit with my other AFC friends, but I am usually the stereotypical drunk guy stumbling around the in the bar, my friends have actually nicknamed my drunk ricky. Going out has always been more about having fun (i.e. getting drunk) for me then it was to meet girls. If I happened to meet a girl or was approached by girls that was great, but I was never actively seeking them.
With that said I have made pretty much every AFC mistake in the book when it comes to females, and just recently I had got fixed up with a friend of a buddy's girlfriend. Even knowing everything that I read I still did everything wrong, went on two dates with her and developed one-itis. (Even sitting here writing this post that only complete strangers are reading I am getting embarrassed.) How do you develop one-itis on a girl that you went on two dates with is a question you guys are probably asking, and I don't know but I kept telling myself that this is the type of girl that I wanted to marry and putting all this pressure on my self. Needless to say after I started calling her everyday and sending her flowers, yeah I really sent flowers after a date, until she wanted pretty much nothing to do with me. I was a mess for like a week, and kept telling myself that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.
Well that was my breaking point so to say. I decided at that point, which was a little over three weeks ago, that I needed to do this and I am going to do it this time. I have made this same ultimatum to myself twice before, and both times I did not do it. So I have decided that if I don't do it this time that I am just deleting all seduction related material off of my computer and "leaving" the community forever.
With that being said I have been studying for this huge exam that I am taking 1/29 for quite a while which is one of the reason I have not had much time to dedicate to sarging or at least the current excuse that I gave myself. So that is the deadline that I have set for myself. I am going to finish my test come home take a shower and then hit up a local mall and open at least three sets. I have a little mini stack that I have put together (thanks puafieldguide) and memorized, so I should be able to get my approaches to at least A2.
Now if by Wednesday I have not updated this thread that means that I was in fact a pussy and did not do it. If that happens I want you (Decibel and Judge) to delete me from your forum and blog, respectively. And then you will probably never hear from me again. I hope that this doesn't happen because I do enjoy reading all the posts and field reports, but if I am not going to apply any of this I should at least use the time I spend on here doing something productive like working more so I will at least have more money.
I appreciate all of you who took the time to read this post and if you have any advice or words of inspiration I would be great full. Thanks and you will hear from me again Wednesday.
Posey
Okay, so I am 25 year old AFC KJ. I found this community about six or seven months ago, and have read and watched pretty much every piece of seduction material available. I have tried to go out and make approaches I probably have made somewhere between 15 - 20 during my time here. Now it is not as if I am an introvert or anything, on the contrary I go out quite a bit with my other AFC friends, but I am usually the stereotypical drunk guy stumbling around the in the bar, my friends have actually nicknamed my drunk ricky. Going out has always been more about having fun (i.e. getting drunk) for me then it was to meet girls. If I happened to meet a girl or was approached by girls that was great, but I was never actively seeking them.
With that said I have made pretty much every AFC mistake in the book when it comes to females, and just recently I had got fixed up with a friend of a buddy's girlfriend. Even knowing everything that I read I still did everything wrong, went on two dates with her and developed one-itis. (Even sitting here writing this post that only complete strangers are reading I am getting embarrassed.) How do you develop one-itis on a girl that you went on two dates with is a question you guys are probably asking, and I don't know but I kept telling myself that this is the type of girl that I wanted to marry and putting all this pressure on my self. Needless to say after I started calling her everyday and sending her flowers, yeah I really sent flowers after a date, until she wanted pretty much nothing to do with me. I was a mess for like a week, and kept telling myself that I was going to be alone for the rest of my life.
Well that was my breaking point so to say. I decided at that point, which was a little over three weeks ago, that I needed to do this and I am going to do it this time. I have made this same ultimatum to myself twice before, and both times I did not do it. So I have decided that if I don't do it this time that I am just deleting all seduction related material off of my computer and "leaving" the community forever.
With that being said I have been studying for this huge exam that I am taking 1/29 for quite a while which is one of the reason I have not had much time to dedicate to sarging or at least the current excuse that I gave myself. So that is the deadline that I have set for myself. I am going to finish my test come home take a shower and then hit up a local mall and open at least three sets. I have a little mini stack that I have put together (thanks puafieldguide) and memorized, so I should be able to get my approaches to at least A2.
Now if by Wednesday I have not updated this thread that means that I was in fact a pussy and did not do it. If that happens I want you (Decibel and Judge) to delete me from your forum and blog, respectively. And then you will probably never hear from me again. I hope that this doesn't happen because I do enjoy reading all the posts and field reports, but if I am not going to apply any of this I should at least use the time I spend on here doing something productive like working more so I will at least have more money.
I appreciate all of you who took the time to read this post and if you have any advice or words of inspiration I would be great full. Thanks and you will hear from me again Wednesday.
Posey
Friday, January 25, 2008
Albany FR (Part III)/D2 with HB10Frenchie
Alright, just like the re-donk-u-lousness of a girl un-flaking after 2 months, I will now FINALLY finish the Albany FR from two months ago. Okay, so if you guys read Part I and Part II you now know that I'm still in A3 with HB10Frenchie right as PUA Wanna Be rolls into my set and starts kinoing my target. Switching back into 3rd person...
HB10Frenchie: Ew! Who are you???
PUA Wanna Be: I'm friends with him! (points to the Judge)
The Judge: Uh, sure. Yeah, I've known this guy since like the '80s. (Judge realizes he doesn't even know PUA Wanna Be's real name)
PUA Wanna Be: Yeah man, cool! So what's up. How do you all know each other???
The Judge: Dude, they're like age-old bff's. She's the badass and she's the nice one. I'll keep my eye on this one (points to HB10Frenchie) and you get to know Teresa (tries to hand HB8Blondie off to PUA Wanna Be so I could continue sarging HB10Frenchie without any more interrupts)
(Quick Zack Morris time out here: I'm coming to a point in this FR where I want to voice a HUGE problem I have with a lot of PUAs I've sarged with (notice I'm using the verb sarge in the past tense because the minute one of these "PUAs" pulls one of these moves on me, I excommunicate them from my social circle). My problem is a lot of guys suffer from crippling AA, especially with super hot women (HB9+), and figure they can never approach a girl that hot. Then, they see a fairly average looking guy like me roll up on a redic hot girl, start running game and think, "Oh! That looks easy! Man! I can do that!" and then barge into my sets and try this weird variation of AMOGing. I see the same thing happen in all aspects of my life (for example, when I wrote for my school newspaper, I had a popular humor column which every dumbass with a stupid opinion on something tried to copy). HOWEVER, what these people don't realize is I MAKE IT LOOK EASY BECAUSE I'VE DONE IT A BIZILLION TIMES! I mean, I'm glad guys are getting inspired watching me, but since I'm taking the risk by approaching and I'm the one running game, THEY HAVE NO RIGHT TO CUT INTO MY SET!!! I offered this guy a hot, blond 8 but he had to get greedy and try and take my 10 away...anyway, time in)
PUA Wanna Be: Yeah, I'm gonna go take this girl to dance. (Starts trying to pull HB10Frenchie away)
The Judge: Dude, stop being so grabby. I'm sick of grabby people, I just told these girls how I got molested by that fat girl...
PUA Wanna Be: (Stares at The Judge angrily, then turns to HB10Frenchie) Sooooo, if you could be anything you wanted – with no chance of failure what would you be?
HB8Blondie: Wait, he just asked us the SAME THING.
PUA Wanna Be: Ehhhh cool. Yo, we should all go to this pizza place across the street. Come on! Let's go! (Starts trying to pull HB10Frenchie again)
(Both HB's BT are sharply declining and they're girl coding each other with the "creeper vibe"...The Judge picks up on this and tries to salvage this PU by walking away with both numbers and playing the "Flake Lottery")
The Judge: Hey dude, you know, it's getting late. We should all roll out of here. Prada and I are gonna jump in a cab, come with us.
PUA Wanna Be: Uh, yeah sure. I'll meet you guys outside.
(Judge and Prada say goodbyes to girls and leave.)
And get this: That slimmy little fuck PUA Wanna Be stayed inside and continued to try and work HB10Frenchie! Not only that, he lied to her and told her I was "one of his best friends" and a ton of other bullshit he made up to DHV himself. When I woke up the next morning at DTM's, he was there and tried to kiss my ass and I basically laid it out for him that he's a creepy manipulator. I think an exact quote I dropped on him was: "You know, PUA seems extremely Machiavellian, however it's not. You don't understand that. And you also don't understand there are ethics involved in this. If you're ready to violate me by treating me like a means to end, I'd hate to see what you'd do a woman. You seem to know a lot of the lines and routines, but you should go back and reread the ethics of winging people, and, more importantly, how to GIVE value rather than just take it." He was all apologetic and shit (and I felt a little self-righteous preaching like that), but it had to be said.
Anyway, on Monday I sent HB10Frenchie a retarded text I didn't FT (very stupid move). I got no response. On Tuesday, I called her and left a voicemail. No call back. On Thursday, I called again, didn't pick up. On Saturday, I figure: Why not try calling HB8Blondie and get a jealousy plotline going, so I do that. HB8Blondie was more than happy to talk to me (I think she thought I was interested in her). Calling HB8Blondie had obvious benefits: I found out some information on HB10Frenchie (for example, she lied to me and told me she lived in NYC when she was actually just trying to move there...she was trying to DHV herself haha), I found out exactly what PUA Wanna Be said to them after I left and disassociated myself from him (I told them I was drunk when I said I was friends with him and he was actually a friend of a friend who's a "fan" of my relationship column...I used this to explain why he asked the same question as me. I claimed I write a column for men on relationships and these are questions I encourage men to ask women to get to know them better...chick crack fellas!), then I tried a ballsy move:
The Judge: Sooo, I think my friend Prada has a little crush on you...
HB8Blonde: Oh, he was cute. But I didn't really talk to him. I don't know...
The Judge: Here's what we should do. Me, you, Prada, and HB10Frenchie should all get together and do a little double-date action. It'd be like right out of 7th grade. We could all French at the same time like a little makeout party!
HB8Blondie: And wait. You'd be going with HB10Frenchie?
The Judge: Maybe, if she -
HB8Blondie: Yeah, I'll talk to HB10Frenchie about that. I gotta go. Bye! (click)
So, it doesn't take a PUA to read between those lines. And, to be honest, I felt somewhat hypocritical as not a week ago I preached to PUA Wanna Be about "not using people as a means to an end" yet I was simply using HB8Blondie to get HB10Frenchie to un-flake. So, at this point, I realized it doesn't pay to be greedy and I could still get HB8Blondie if I'm willing to forget HB10Frenchie (a choice I'm now regretting haha). So later the next week, I call up HB8Blondie and invite her down to Manhattan to spend the weekend with me. She tells me she wants to, but has finals but she'll "see". In passing, she also mentioned that HB10Frenchie had just found an apartment in Queens and is moving in on January 1st.
Ultimately, HB8Blondie flaked and I sort of just gave up with both of them. I filed them under the flake file and moved on. Then, on NYE, I sent out the typical mass-text to about 20 HBs in my phone. I threw HB10Frenchie and HB8Blondie in there for good measure. HB8Blondie's response didn't surprise me as much as HB10Frenchie's (keep in mind, this is the first time she even acknowledged my existence after the initial PU) . Even though her response was simply "thankx", I wrote back, "I'll call you later in the week" or some shit.
And, as a man of my word, later in the week I left her a voicemail inviting her to the Guggenheim with my pivot, Theory and Affection (read Affection's FR on the VA forum for an overview of what went down that night!). While she didn't call me back, I got a text back from to the effect of, "Thanks for the invite but it's my dad's bday. Goin home for the weekend". While it's flaky, it's still a response (as long as a HB9+ is responding, I'll keep trying). So I sent her a spattering of texts throughout the week. Some she responded to (mostly with shit-tests like, "what are u talking about?") and some she simply ignored. Since it becomes a game at that point and my ego is no longer on the line (if it ever is...), I'll pretty much write anything (I wish I saved some of the idiotic shit I wrote to her). Which brings us all the way up to MLK day in which this hall-of-fame text convo went down (I'm reposting it because I'm so proud):
The Judge: I guess this is it. Im moving out but wtf do we do about the cats? Fluffys mine.
HB10Frenchie: Ok why would u text that to me
The Judge: Cute...You know i like fiesty girls so here you are acting like one.
HB10Frenchie: Haha ok
The Judge: Haha...Are you finally moved into the city?
HB10Frenchie: Yea
The Judge: Welcome! monday is sushi night. i want to show u this amazing place...Are you free at 6?
HB10Frenchie: What is the name of the place? Where is it?
The Judge: (Sushi place) on (Blah street and blah ave.)
HB10Frenchie: Never heard of it
The Judge: Its delicious
HB10Frenchie: Did u just text me back? I deleted it by accident
The Judge: Ya...I said its delicious
(10 minutes pass)
The Judge: Ok i gotta run but tonite @ 6 ill meet u on (blah street and blah ave.)?
HB10Frenchie: Ok ill text u when it gets closer. Hopefully i dont get stuck at work
The Judge: Sounds good...And bring Fluffy
As I wrote in my last FR, I then went to Barnes and Nobles and PU'd a supermodel (who is a super flake as well)...although, we have been talking on the phone. Every night she tells me she's in "casting" until late and she wants to do dinner earlier because she's hungry. Anyway, here's another picture I took of me and her in B&N (I look like such a troll in this pic...also my camera phone make people look like 10X uglier than they really are):
So, keep in mind, it's MLK day, about 6 o'clock (HB10Frenchie texts me saying she'll be 15 minutes late) and I'm sitting across the table from a supermodel in a Barnes and Nobles having coffee. If you're me, do you leave and take a chance that HB10Frenchie is going to flake OR do you flake on HB10Frenchie and stay out with the supermodel?)
And, to give you an idea of the hotness and awesomeness of HB10Frenchie, I decide to roll the dice and leave to meet with HB10Frenchie. Oh, just some quick things I recently learned about gaming supermodels: I was talking with my PUA mentor Johnny Soporno and relating to him this little adventure (hilariously, he sent me a picture of him and a Dutch supermodel represented by the same agency as my sHB11) he told me NOT to use standard game on supermodels. They're impervious to negs (makes sense, it's not like a chick who's been on the cover of Elle is going to care if some schmuck in B&N tells her she's not living up to his standards lol) and the only thing you really have to do is talk to them, get rapport and not react to their beauty - either negatively or positively. It's funny because when I did this, I was getting awesome rapport and IOIs from her, but once my PUA-intuition kicked in and I was like, "Wait, this is too easy. Start running some game" she IOD'd me. (Perfect example, at one point I told her I hated her and she just looked at me angrily and demanded, "Why?" Anyway on that vein, I went about my RTC (real time constant) all wrong:
The Judge: Okay, sHB11, this has been fun but I seriously have to go.
sHB11: You're serious right now? You're really going to leave?
The Judge: I told you, I'm a busy guy. But don't worry, we'll have sushi sometime this week. You can either have Tuesday or Thursday. Those nights are the nights I'm free.
sHB11: What if I want Tuesday and Thursday?
The Judge: Well, that would be greedy but if you email me Tuesday morning like a good girl and you're really cool on Tuesday night. Then we just may have to go out Thursday, too...
Anyway, she didn't like that answer.
Oh well. So, now I run out of B&N, jump in a cab, command the guy to drive like an animal, jump out, and stand in front of the sushi place. After about 10 minutes, I realized it's super cold and I look like a total dueche standing outside (seriously lowering my value) but I don't want to go into the sushi place and wait if she's going to flake (keep in mind, I'm trying to establish social proof at this place). After the cold gets to me, I go inside, order a beer, and call my funniest friend to pump my state.
(Side note: This is a KEY move in a D2 I learned from Carlos Xuma's book. You don't want to be sitting there waiting like a little puppy dog for the HB to show up. You should always seem like you're in your own world and you're having a great time and that can be a part of it. But she's not defining it)
Anyway, as I'm laughing with my friend, I see HB10Frenchie crossing the street. At first, I was overjoyed that she wasn't flaking and looked super hot. But then, I saw the look on her face. It's the classic look I'm always scanning for when girls "girl code" each other: The "I-don't-want-to-be-here" look.
So, she walks in, I hang up with my friend, and give her a big hug. The minute she sits down, I launch right into the "grabby homeless guy" story. Since I've told this story probably 100+ times, I can practically tell it in autopilot; however this retelling was especially inspired. I was able to extend it for about 5 minutes and she kept jumping in and asking questions which I fielded with hilarious responses. I started to see her BL changing and her BT starting to rise so I stacked into my next routine: DLV PUA Wanna Be.
I posted on the VA forum how using AFC's to work for you is a VERY effective tactic (not only do girls find it hilarious but it also subcommunicates you're NOT one of those guys and you "get it"). This gambit was so good, I'm going to switch into scripted form:
The Judge: Okay, now you have to tell me. What happened with that guy after I left the club that night? He was like all slimmy and shit. What a Creepy McCreeperson!
HB10Frenchie: Ahahahaha...omg!! That guy was TERRIBLE! He kept grabbing me and trying to get me to go places with him!! But wait, isn't he like your best friend??
The Judge: (Goes into "Relationship Columnist" spiel and how the Creeper was a fan, not a friend)
This topic busted open a ton of potential threads, which I exploited (i.e. how clueless guys are, a recap of "girls are such sexual predators", a continued debate between "bitch boots" and "hooker boots"). Basically the next 15-25 minutes were all BT spiking and laughing. At this point, I started leaning back (in my "qualifying position) as she started leaning over the table. Her BL was really open at this point and I could tell she was really happy to be there (in stark contrast to when I saw on her on the street).
I knew it was time to start laying my "frame" groundwork. This is probably the most effective tactic I use on D2's (keep in mind, a girl will ONLY accept your frame if she's laughing and her BT is spiked). Here's how it goes down:
HB10Frenchie: (says something that makes The Judge laugh)
The Judge: That was cute. Okay, you're getting 2 points.
HB10Frenchie: Two points?? Huh??
The Judge: Yeah, congrats. Two points is good. I put all the girls I go out with on a points system. Get 15 points, I'll tell you my life story. Get 20 and I just might let you kiss me. But you better be a good kisser because nothing will make you lose more points than a gross kiss...
HB10Frenchie: Omg...I don't kiss guys on the first date.
The Judge: Well, I don't kiss girls on the first date who only have 2 points so you better keep me laughing.
HB10Frenchie: Hahahaha...oh my God! WHO are you?
This is a classic response. The whole points system is so corny and I feel sort of retarded bringing it up, but it's so absurdly effective, I can't resist doing it. Basically, the points system has 3 stages on a D2: 1.) Girl will react like "wtf?!?!?!" and won't buy into it (it's REALLY important you act like this doesn't bother you and that you know she'll eventually succumb..because she will); 2.) as she continues to enjoy herself and tells good qualifying stories, she'll start responding more favorably when you give her "points"...you'll notice she'll happily jump through your hoops to earn points; 3.) she'll start getting obsessed with how she's doing and constantly ask if she's losing/earning points, how many points she has, etc.
However, don't take this too far. I'd say I drop a point comment once every half an hour. Sometimes it's something really subtle, like she'll say something I like/don't like and I'll pretend I'm writing on my palm. When she asks, "What??" I'll say something like, "Just making a note in my points tally..." Then she'll ask, "Wait, did I get a point or lose one??" Where I'll just look at her and smile then stack into a story. This shit is one of the most effective tactics during D2's and will seriously help you calibrate your IOIs. For example, HB10Frenchie started saying things like:
HB10Frenchie: I don't know how to use chopsticks, am I going to lose points for that.
HB10Frenchie: I'm sort of nervous because I can tell you have really high standards. How am I doing?
One thing I want to note in this FR: When BH10Frenchie sat down, I looked at her and actually felt pangs of doubt and nervousness. While I've done this D2 countless times with tons of other girls (from Hb7's to HB9.5's), I looked at her - a girl who not only is a perfect 10 but also has her shit together, has an awesome job, etc. - and thought: "There is NO WAY a girl this hot and put together is going to be attracted to me. I probably just got lucky the night I PU'd her up and she's probably only here because she wants a free dinner." I knew this was my AFC voice talking, but for a few seconds I actually had serious doubts that a HB10 is actually going to believe I have these super high standards and I have an army of women lined up I could potentially be spending my time with (also keep in mind, I started this D2 in serious damage control since I'd texted her relentlessly and she had IOD'd me for 2 months).
HOWEVER, I thought to myself: WHAT IS THAT ATTITUDE GOING TO GET ME?
My AFC voice shutup and I went into game mode. (And really, no one knows what's going on inside my head. Often my wings or even HBs I've sarged have noted I seemed completely calm and confident in a situation when inside I was scared as shit; I simply know how to hide it.)
Okay, other than that this FR is pretty typical: We spent 2+ hours at the sushi place just having an amazing convo. Then we went to the supermarket and she picked me out a batch of stawberries (and, of course, I found her in aisle 1 contemplating the stawberries like it was the most important decision she was ever going to make). Then we went back to my apartment, she responded to all my chick crack. Because I knew I had the IOIs, when she was talking I pulled her into to me and initiated a makeout session, then pushed her away and took her to the white trash bar (which she was super excited to see). When I paraded her around my WT bar, I noticed every guy staring at her so when we sat down I started making out with her again just to keep the Wanna Be PUAs at bay. We had an awesome convo over beer then I walked her to a cab and she left (I could tell she wasn't ready for sex yet and if I suggested going back to my place, it would've just reeked of neediness and low value).
Anyway, one sad thing to note: When I was walking up to get a cab, the sole on my platform shoe snapped off (she surprisingly didn't notice!) so I had to retire my shinny platform shoes I've PU'd so many HBs in (most famously, the only other sHB11 I ever PU'd, the Miss USA girl).
My only problem now is I've been thinking about HB10Frenchie too much and afraid I'm coming down with one-itis. She texted me a few times since and I've been needlessly mean to her.
Aye, it's bad news when gamers get gamed. I need to get out and sarge...
HB10Frenchie: Ew! Who are you???
PUA Wanna Be: I'm friends with him! (points to the Judge)
The Judge: Uh, sure. Yeah, I've known this guy since like the '80s. (Judge realizes he doesn't even know PUA Wanna Be's real name)
PUA Wanna Be: Yeah man, cool! So what's up. How do you all know each other???
The Judge: Dude, they're like age-old bff's. She's the badass and she's the nice one. I'll keep my eye on this one (points to HB10Frenchie) and you get to know Teresa (tries to hand HB8Blondie off to PUA Wanna Be so I could continue sarging HB10Frenchie without any more interrupts)
(Quick Zack Morris time out here: I'm coming to a point in this FR where I want to voice a HUGE problem I have with a lot of PUAs I've sarged with (notice I'm using the verb sarge in the past tense because the minute one of these "PUAs" pulls one of these moves on me, I excommunicate them from my social circle). My problem is a lot of guys suffer from crippling AA, especially with super hot women (HB9+), and figure they can never approach a girl that hot. Then, they see a fairly average looking guy like me roll up on a redic hot girl, start running game and think, "Oh! That looks easy! Man! I can do that!" and then barge into my sets and try this weird variation of AMOGing. I see the same thing happen in all aspects of my life (for example, when I wrote for my school newspaper, I had a popular humor column which every dumbass with a stupid opinion on something tried to copy). HOWEVER, what these people don't realize is I MAKE IT LOOK EASY BECAUSE I'VE DONE IT A BIZILLION TIMES! I mean, I'm glad guys are getting inspired watching me, but since I'm taking the risk by approaching and I'm the one running game, THEY HAVE NO RIGHT TO CUT INTO MY SET!!! I offered this guy a hot, blond 8 but he had to get greedy and try and take my 10 away...anyway, time in)
PUA Wanna Be: Yeah, I'm gonna go take this girl to dance. (Starts trying to pull HB10Frenchie away)
The Judge: Dude, stop being so grabby. I'm sick of grabby people, I just told these girls how I got molested by that fat girl...
PUA Wanna Be: (Stares at The Judge angrily, then turns to HB10Frenchie) Sooooo, if you could be anything you wanted – with no chance of failure what would you be?
HB8Blondie: Wait, he just asked us the SAME THING.
PUA Wanna Be: Ehhhh cool. Yo, we should all go to this pizza place across the street. Come on! Let's go! (Starts trying to pull HB10Frenchie again)
(Both HB's BT are sharply declining and they're girl coding each other with the "creeper vibe"...The Judge picks up on this and tries to salvage this PU by walking away with both numbers and playing the "Flake Lottery")
The Judge: Hey dude, you know, it's getting late. We should all roll out of here. Prada and I are gonna jump in a cab, come with us.
PUA Wanna Be: Uh, yeah sure. I'll meet you guys outside.
(Judge and Prada say goodbyes to girls and leave.)
And get this: That slimmy little fuck PUA Wanna Be stayed inside and continued to try and work HB10Frenchie! Not only that, he lied to her and told her I was "one of his best friends" and a ton of other bullshit he made up to DHV himself. When I woke up the next morning at DTM's, he was there and tried to kiss my ass and I basically laid it out for him that he's a creepy manipulator. I think an exact quote I dropped on him was: "You know, PUA seems extremely Machiavellian, however it's not. You don't understand that. And you also don't understand there are ethics involved in this. If you're ready to violate me by treating me like a means to end, I'd hate to see what you'd do a woman. You seem to know a lot of the lines and routines, but you should go back and reread the ethics of winging people, and, more importantly, how to GIVE value rather than just take it." He was all apologetic and shit (and I felt a little self-righteous preaching like that), but it had to be said.
Anyway, on Monday I sent HB10Frenchie a retarded text I didn't FT (very stupid move). I got no response. On Tuesday, I called her and left a voicemail. No call back. On Thursday, I called again, didn't pick up. On Saturday, I figure: Why not try calling HB8Blondie and get a jealousy plotline going, so I do that. HB8Blondie was more than happy to talk to me (I think she thought I was interested in her). Calling HB8Blondie had obvious benefits: I found out some information on HB10Frenchie (for example, she lied to me and told me she lived in NYC when she was actually just trying to move there...she was trying to DHV herself haha), I found out exactly what PUA Wanna Be said to them after I left and disassociated myself from him (I told them I was drunk when I said I was friends with him and he was actually a friend of a friend who's a "fan" of my relationship column...I used this to explain why he asked the same question as me. I claimed I write a column for men on relationships and these are questions I encourage men to ask women to get to know them better...chick crack fellas!), then I tried a ballsy move:
The Judge: Sooo, I think my friend Prada has a little crush on you...
HB8Blonde: Oh, he was cute. But I didn't really talk to him. I don't know...
The Judge: Here's what we should do. Me, you, Prada, and HB10Frenchie should all get together and do a little double-date action. It'd be like right out of 7th grade. We could all French at the same time like a little makeout party!
HB8Blondie: And wait. You'd be going with HB10Frenchie?
The Judge: Maybe, if she -
HB8Blondie: Yeah, I'll talk to HB10Frenchie about that. I gotta go. Bye! (click)
So, it doesn't take a PUA to read between those lines. And, to be honest, I felt somewhat hypocritical as not a week ago I preached to PUA Wanna Be about "not using people as a means to an end" yet I was simply using HB8Blondie to get HB10Frenchie to un-flake. So, at this point, I realized it doesn't pay to be greedy and I could still get HB8Blondie if I'm willing to forget HB10Frenchie (a choice I'm now regretting haha). So later the next week, I call up HB8Blondie and invite her down to Manhattan to spend the weekend with me. She tells me she wants to, but has finals but she'll "see". In passing, she also mentioned that HB10Frenchie had just found an apartment in Queens and is moving in on January 1st.
Ultimately, HB8Blondie flaked and I sort of just gave up with both of them. I filed them under the flake file and moved on. Then, on NYE, I sent out the typical mass-text to about 20 HBs in my phone. I threw HB10Frenchie and HB8Blondie in there for good measure. HB8Blondie's response didn't surprise me as much as HB10Frenchie's (keep in mind, this is the first time she even acknowledged my existence after the initial PU) . Even though her response was simply "thankx", I wrote back, "I'll call you later in the week" or some shit.
And, as a man of my word, later in the week I left her a voicemail inviting her to the Guggenheim with my pivot, Theory and Affection (read Affection's FR on the VA forum for an overview of what went down that night!). While she didn't call me back, I got a text back from to the effect of, "Thanks for the invite but it's my dad's bday. Goin home for the weekend". While it's flaky, it's still a response (as long as a HB9+ is responding, I'll keep trying). So I sent her a spattering of texts throughout the week. Some she responded to (mostly with shit-tests like, "what are u talking about?") and some she simply ignored. Since it becomes a game at that point and my ego is no longer on the line (if it ever is...), I'll pretty much write anything (I wish I saved some of the idiotic shit I wrote to her). Which brings us all the way up to MLK day in which this hall-of-fame text convo went down (I'm reposting it because I'm so proud):
The Judge: I guess this is it. Im moving out but wtf do we do about the cats? Fluffys mine.
HB10Frenchie: Ok why would u text that to me
The Judge: Cute...You know i like fiesty girls so here you are acting like one.
HB10Frenchie: Haha ok
The Judge: Haha...Are you finally moved into the city?
HB10Frenchie: Yea
The Judge: Welcome! monday is sushi night. i want to show u this amazing place...Are you free at 6?
HB10Frenchie: What is the name of the place? Where is it?
The Judge: (Sushi place) on (Blah street and blah ave.)
HB10Frenchie: Never heard of it
The Judge: Its delicious
HB10Frenchie: Did u just text me back? I deleted it by accident
The Judge: Ya...I said its delicious
(10 minutes pass)
The Judge: Ok i gotta run but tonite @ 6 ill meet u on (blah street and blah ave.)?
HB10Frenchie: Ok ill text u when it gets closer. Hopefully i dont get stuck at work
The Judge: Sounds good...And bring Fluffy
As I wrote in my last FR, I then went to Barnes and Nobles and PU'd a supermodel (who is a super flake as well)...although, we have been talking on the phone. Every night she tells me she's in "casting" until late and she wants to do dinner earlier because she's hungry. Anyway, here's another picture I took of me and her in B&N (I look like such a troll in this pic...also my camera phone make people look like 10X uglier than they really are):
So, keep in mind, it's MLK day, about 6 o'clock (HB10Frenchie texts me saying she'll be 15 minutes late) and I'm sitting across the table from a supermodel in a Barnes and Nobles having coffee. If you're me, do you leave and take a chance that HB10Frenchie is going to flake OR do you flake on HB10Frenchie and stay out with the supermodel?)
And, to give you an idea of the hotness and awesomeness of HB10Frenchie, I decide to roll the dice and leave to meet with HB10Frenchie. Oh, just some quick things I recently learned about gaming supermodels: I was talking with my PUA mentor Johnny Soporno and relating to him this little adventure (hilariously, he sent me a picture of him and a Dutch supermodel represented by the same agency as my sHB11) he told me NOT to use standard game on supermodels. They're impervious to negs (makes sense, it's not like a chick who's been on the cover of Elle is going to care if some schmuck in B&N tells her she's not living up to his standards lol) and the only thing you really have to do is talk to them, get rapport and not react to their beauty - either negatively or positively. It's funny because when I did this, I was getting awesome rapport and IOIs from her, but once my PUA-intuition kicked in and I was like, "Wait, this is too easy. Start running some game" she IOD'd me. (Perfect example, at one point I told her I hated her and she just looked at me angrily and demanded, "Why?" Anyway on that vein, I went about my RTC (real time constant) all wrong:
The Judge: Okay, sHB11, this has been fun but I seriously have to go.
sHB11: You're serious right now? You're really going to leave?
The Judge: I told you, I'm a busy guy. But don't worry, we'll have sushi sometime this week. You can either have Tuesday or Thursday. Those nights are the nights I'm free.
sHB11: What if I want Tuesday and Thursday?
The Judge: Well, that would be greedy but if you email me Tuesday morning like a good girl and you're really cool on Tuesday night. Then we just may have to go out Thursday, too...
Anyway, she didn't like that answer.
Oh well. So, now I run out of B&N, jump in a cab, command the guy to drive like an animal, jump out, and stand in front of the sushi place. After about 10 minutes, I realized it's super cold and I look like a total dueche standing outside (seriously lowering my value) but I don't want to go into the sushi place and wait if she's going to flake (keep in mind, I'm trying to establish social proof at this place). After the cold gets to me, I go inside, order a beer, and call my funniest friend to pump my state.
(Side note: This is a KEY move in a D2 I learned from Carlos Xuma's book. You don't want to be sitting there waiting like a little puppy dog for the HB to show up. You should always seem like you're in your own world and you're having a great time and that can be a part of it. But she's not defining it)
Anyway, as I'm laughing with my friend, I see HB10Frenchie crossing the street. At first, I was overjoyed that she wasn't flaking and looked super hot. But then, I saw the look on her face. It's the classic look I'm always scanning for when girls "girl code" each other: The "I-don't-want-to-be-here" look.
So, she walks in, I hang up with my friend, and give her a big hug. The minute she sits down, I launch right into the "grabby homeless guy" story. Since I've told this story probably 100+ times, I can practically tell it in autopilot; however this retelling was especially inspired. I was able to extend it for about 5 minutes and she kept jumping in and asking questions which I fielded with hilarious responses. I started to see her BL changing and her BT starting to rise so I stacked into my next routine: DLV PUA Wanna Be.
I posted on the VA forum how using AFC's to work for you is a VERY effective tactic (not only do girls find it hilarious but it also subcommunicates you're NOT one of those guys and you "get it"). This gambit was so good, I'm going to switch into scripted form:
The Judge: Okay, now you have to tell me. What happened with that guy after I left the club that night? He was like all slimmy and shit. What a Creepy McCreeperson!
HB10Frenchie: Ahahahaha...omg!! That guy was TERRIBLE! He kept grabbing me and trying to get me to go places with him!! But wait, isn't he like your best friend??
The Judge: (Goes into "Relationship Columnist" spiel and how the Creeper was a fan, not a friend)
This topic busted open a ton of potential threads, which I exploited (i.e. how clueless guys are, a recap of "girls are such sexual predators", a continued debate between "bitch boots" and "hooker boots"). Basically the next 15-25 minutes were all BT spiking and laughing. At this point, I started leaning back (in my "qualifying position) as she started leaning over the table. Her BL was really open at this point and I could tell she was really happy to be there (in stark contrast to when I saw on her on the street).
I knew it was time to start laying my "frame" groundwork. This is probably the most effective tactic I use on D2's (keep in mind, a girl will ONLY accept your frame if she's laughing and her BT is spiked). Here's how it goes down:
HB10Frenchie: (says something that makes The Judge laugh)
The Judge: That was cute. Okay, you're getting 2 points.
HB10Frenchie: Two points?? Huh??
The Judge: Yeah, congrats. Two points is good. I put all the girls I go out with on a points system. Get 15 points, I'll tell you my life story. Get 20 and I just might let you kiss me. But you better be a good kisser because nothing will make you lose more points than a gross kiss...
HB10Frenchie: Omg...I don't kiss guys on the first date.
The Judge: Well, I don't kiss girls on the first date who only have 2 points so you better keep me laughing.
HB10Frenchie: Hahahaha...oh my God! WHO are you?
This is a classic response. The whole points system is so corny and I feel sort of retarded bringing it up, but it's so absurdly effective, I can't resist doing it. Basically, the points system has 3 stages on a D2: 1.) Girl will react like "wtf?!?!?!" and won't buy into it (it's REALLY important you act like this doesn't bother you and that you know she'll eventually succumb..because she will); 2.) as she continues to enjoy herself and tells good qualifying stories, she'll start responding more favorably when you give her "points"...you'll notice she'll happily jump through your hoops to earn points; 3.) she'll start getting obsessed with how she's doing and constantly ask if she's losing/earning points, how many points she has, etc.
However, don't take this too far. I'd say I drop a point comment once every half an hour. Sometimes it's something really subtle, like she'll say something I like/don't like and I'll pretend I'm writing on my palm. When she asks, "What??" I'll say something like, "Just making a note in my points tally..." Then she'll ask, "Wait, did I get a point or lose one??" Where I'll just look at her and smile then stack into a story. This shit is one of the most effective tactics during D2's and will seriously help you calibrate your IOIs. For example, HB10Frenchie started saying things like:
HB10Frenchie: I don't know how to use chopsticks, am I going to lose points for that.
HB10Frenchie: I'm sort of nervous because I can tell you have really high standards. How am I doing?
One thing I want to note in this FR: When BH10Frenchie sat down, I looked at her and actually felt pangs of doubt and nervousness. While I've done this D2 countless times with tons of other girls (from Hb7's to HB9.5's), I looked at her - a girl who not only is a perfect 10 but also has her shit together, has an awesome job, etc. - and thought: "There is NO WAY a girl this hot and put together is going to be attracted to me. I probably just got lucky the night I PU'd her up and she's probably only here because she wants a free dinner." I knew this was my AFC voice talking, but for a few seconds I actually had serious doubts that a HB10 is actually going to believe I have these super high standards and I have an army of women lined up I could potentially be spending my time with (also keep in mind, I started this D2 in serious damage control since I'd texted her relentlessly and she had IOD'd me for 2 months).
HOWEVER, I thought to myself: WHAT IS THAT ATTITUDE GOING TO GET ME?
My AFC voice shutup and I went into game mode. (And really, no one knows what's going on inside my head. Often my wings or even HBs I've sarged have noted I seemed completely calm and confident in a situation when inside I was scared as shit; I simply know how to hide it.)
Okay, other than that this FR is pretty typical: We spent 2+ hours at the sushi place just having an amazing convo. Then we went to the supermarket and she picked me out a batch of stawberries (and, of course, I found her in aisle 1 contemplating the stawberries like it was the most important decision she was ever going to make). Then we went back to my apartment, she responded to all my chick crack. Because I knew I had the IOIs, when she was talking I pulled her into to me and initiated a makeout session, then pushed her away and took her to the white trash bar (which she was super excited to see). When I paraded her around my WT bar, I noticed every guy staring at her so when we sat down I started making out with her again just to keep the Wanna Be PUAs at bay. We had an awesome convo over beer then I walked her to a cab and she left (I could tell she wasn't ready for sex yet and if I suggested going back to my place, it would've just reeked of neediness and low value).
Anyway, one sad thing to note: When I was walking up to get a cab, the sole on my platform shoe snapped off (she surprisingly didn't notice!) so I had to retire my shinny platform shoes I've PU'd so many HBs in (most famously, the only other sHB11 I ever PU'd, the Miss USA girl).
My only problem now is I've been thinking about HB10Frenchie too much and afraid I'm coming down with one-itis. She texted me a few times since and I've been needlessly mean to her.
Aye, it's bad news when gamers get gamed. I need to get out and sarge...
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Palms and body language
On Judge's recommendation, I downloaded Mehow's ebook. I've been reading Tyler's book, which has a lot of great info. But Tyler really isn't a very good writer, so Mehow's book, which reads very easily and quickly, is a nice break. Anyhow, early on he talks about how his default body language is his palms facing forward. I've heard plenty of people talk about "palms forward" before, but I've always just taken that to mean keeping my hands generally facing up and gesticulating with my palms facing forward.
Apparently Mehow actually walks around with his palms facing forward. This feels incredibly awkward when I do it, and looks like I'm trying to get someone to hug me. When he does it in an image for the book, though, it actually looks really good:
I'm totally shocked by this. Do you guys do this? I presume I can make this look good if I practice it in front of a mirror for a while, but I'm really surprised that doing that can look good at all.
Apparently Mehow actually walks around with his palms facing forward. This feels incredibly awkward when I do it, and looks like I'm trying to get someone to hug me. When he does it in an image for the book, though, it actually looks really good:
I'm totally shocked by this. Do you guys do this? I presume I can make this look good if I practice it in front of a mirror for a while, but I'm really surprised that doing that can look good at all.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Day Game Success and the Ultimate Anti-Flake!
Guys. Today might've been the greatest day ever for me in the field. And you guys are responsible. I broke through two monster sticking points and I have you guys to thank for it (as you'll see).
But first, wake up with me (not next to me, you're sleeping on my pullout couch).
I wake up at 9am which is late in Judge time. It's late because I usually get up at 6:15 on a Monday. But today's MLK day and MLK helped me score some major HBs today.
So, I stumble out of bed, flip my laptop open, and pull up Mehow's Get the Girl eBook. (http://www.scribd.com/doc/563178/mehow-get-the-girl). While I've never been a huge fan of Mehow, his book was the only piece of popular PUA literature I hadn't read yet, so I bit the bullet and read it.
And, I hate to admit it, but it's golden.
There's so much good stuff in there it's sickening. So, as I'm reading, I see a "text message" section where he claims there's 2 texts that will get even the most unresponsive girls to text you back. These texts are so outrageous I figure "why not try"? So I text HB9 Russian (from an unpublished FR) and HB10Frenchie (from the Albany FR), to FT them.
Okay, I'm going to contradict the fiction writer in me and ruin the suspense to ensure you guys cull all the goodness from this FR. To ruin the suspense, I got a response from HB10Frenchie. Not only did I get a response, but I just went on a D2 with her. Not only did I go on a D2 with her, I had a hardcore makeout session with her (no f-close though, breaking my recent 4 for 4 streak). Anyway, to give you some background: I met HB10Frenchie back in November! (Check out the Albany FR) and she gave me her number. The initial PU was good, but I did no comfort, no rapport. Nothing. I knew when I #-closed her it was probably gonna be a flake, but hoped for the best. After two unanswered and unreturned phone calls, I turned my game to texting. She didn't respond to the first 3 or 4 texts I sent until I sent her a generic "Happy New Year's" text (see my NYE FR) with simply a "thankx!". And, for the Judge, that's an IOI. So I texted her 3 times after NYE, which she shot down I think 2 and just didn't respond to 1. Hence, if you can't already connect the dots, suffice to say I had NO VALUE whatsoever from HB10Frenchie. No only did I have 0 value, I was in damage control for looking for totally needy. And then I read the Mehow text message. Here's the verbatim convo (minus the address of the sushi place) from my text marathon with her this morning at 11:19am
The Judge: I guess this is it. Im moving out but wtf do we do about the cats? Fluffys mine.
HB10Frenchie: Ok why would u text that to me
The Judge: Cute...You know i like fiesty girls so here you are acting like one.
HB10Frenchie: Haha ok
The Judge: Haha...Are you finally moved into the city?
HB10Frenchie: Yea
The Judge: Welcome! monday is sushi night. i want to show u this amazing place...Are you free at 6?
HB10Frenchie: What is the name of the place? Where is it?
The Judge: (Sushi place) on (Blah street and blah ave.)
HB10Frenchie: Never heard of it
The Judge: Its delicious
HB10Frenchie: Did u just text me back? I deleted it by accident
The Judge: Ya...I said its delicious
(10 minutes pass)
The Judge: Ok i gotta run but tonite @ 6 ill meet u on (blah street and blah ave.)?
HB10Frenchie: Ok ill text u when it gets closer. Hopefully i dont get stuck at work
The Judge: Sounds good...And bring Fluffy
Okay, that's the text convo VERBATIM. So, now, if you're me and you just had this text convo, what would you be thinking? FLAKE! Exactly. I don't take this too seriously and call up HB Jazz Singer to chill. She wants me to come to the West side and chill with her and her brother. While I'm assuming HB10Frenchie is going to flake, I'd prefer to stay on the East Side so I can at least SHOW UP at 6, even if I get flaked on (keep in mind the sushi place is a block from my apartment). HB Jazz Singer won't come to the East Side. I say cool and go to Barnes and Nobles to do some writing. While I pretended I was trying to get some writing done, we all know what I was really hoping for. If you don't, you haven't been reading this blog.
And then magic happened.
I swear to God, the events that unfolded could not have been more predictable than what I wrote about last time. Okay, so I roll into the huge B&N, try to get a seat in the coffee area so I can "write". Every seat is occupied, so I roll upstairs to the fiction section. For whatever reason, I end up in the humor section (???) reading an absurd book called, "God is a Woman" (????) and again berating myself for having AA during Day Game (there were decent HBs walking around). Suddenly I see a HB10 (perhaps even the fabled sHB11 I had hoped for) sit not 10 feet from me and peel open a sculpture book! Seeing this, I realize it's EXACTLY what I'd hoped for when I wrote that "Judge's Courtship" test.
She's everything you'd expect from a HB10/sHB11: Tall, thin, blond (runway model looking), dressed in a hip, New York fashionable way. She's got a face you'd expect to see on the cover of magazine.
So I sweat. I peer. I plan an attack. I realize I'm a pussy and can't approach (people were all around! WORST EXCUSE EVER!). So, I walk around a bit. I now see the HB10/sHB11 put the sculpture book back and looking over the "classics" section. I figure this is THE BEST TIME TO APPROACH. I've read more classics than anyone! I see she's picked up "Dracula"! I could just walk over and say, "Put that book down! It's EVIL!" but I don't.
I get so upset with myself, I run downstairs, push through the revolving door and plan on going home. I'm disgusted with myself. How can I call myself "The Judge" run this blog and retreat from a sHB11 when she's SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. That doesn't stop me. I start walking toward the Upper East Side. But, suddenly, when I'm about 2 blocks away from B&N I start thinking of emails I'd exchanged with Decibel. I think of the sets that I've seen Ga'ash effortlessly open. I think of Khaki and the way he's applied my advice to working out. I think of Posey and the solid comments he's made on this blog. I think of everyone who reads this blog and realize I'm a fucking failure if I don't stop, turn around, and open this sHB11.
So I stop. Hesitate. And turn.
Now I'm walking back to B&N and, man, I wish I could've seen a picture of my face at this point. Because I felt like John fucking Rambo. I had a mission and was ready to go down, guns blazing. So, I slam through the revolving doors and start walking in Terminator mode back to the upstairs section. I walk all over the fiction aisles, scanning for sHB11. No where.
I walk up and down the aisles and see nothing. Just fatties. Just dudes. No sHB11.
I think, "SEE ASSHOLE THIS IS WHY THEY HAVE THE 3 SECOND RULE!!!"
I give up and start to leave. Then I see her.
She's sitting in the "Bargain books" section (???) reading something. I stutter step and move. "JUST SAY ANYTHING" I repeat to myself, "ANYTHING!"
I walk past her and...
The Judge: Soooooo what's new in the b-b-b-b-bargain book section???
sHB11: Ah, I'm just writing a text message...I don't know.
The Judge: O-o-oh. Cool. You have an accent, don't you?
sHB11: Yes, I'm from Holland.
The Judge: (thinking she said she's from Poland starts speaking Polish)
sHB11: (Looks at Judge like he's crazy)
The Judge: (Sit down next to her, picks up random book with Fabio on the cover) Look at this guy (points to book), what's his story?
Then, the wierdest thing ever happened. I made really strong eye contact with her. (I heard this is KEY in day game). Like, literally, I started staring at her like she was my girlfriend right before I was going to make sweet love to her. And she returned my gaze. Then we just started talking totally normal. I don't even remember the threads of our convos, but I know I told her I was a writer and she told me she in the US for "work". At this point, it came out she was only 19 (!!!) and I finally realized she was from Holland, not Poland. We talked for about 10 minutes (the whole time some old granny was grilling me as if she'd seen ever episode of the Pick Up Artist and knew exactly what I was up to!) And, finally, noticing it was 5 o'clock said:
The Judge: Hey, I have a half hour before I have to go. But let's go now, I want to have a cup of coffee with you.
sHB11: (Considering) You only have a half hour?
The Judge: Half hour. I'm a busy guy. But I want to hear your story. Maybe I'll put you in my novel. And, plus, I might go to Amsterdam in the Spring. You can be my guide...
The sHB11 looked really troubled at that point. She starts telling me she has to go to "the FedEx before it closes". I'm like, "Dude, that shit is closed today. MLK day baby..." She says it's not and asks if I'll go with her. Because she looked really frantic and upset about it (she had to send keys to her apartment in Paris to her parents or some shit), I agreed. (Also, keep in mind, I was still sort of in shock this whole PU with sHB11 was so easy...I hadn't really run any form of game, just talked to her). So, we leave the B&N together and go to the FedEx place. While I really don't like to let girls lead me, I made sure to take control in the FedEx place (not in a dick-sort-of-way, but I spoke to the guy at the counter and made sure she'd be able to send her keys that day). The guys tells us two pieces of bad news: 1.) she has 10 minutes to fill out all the paperwork before FedEx closes, and 2.) It's going to cost $50 (she only had $5 on her). While the old AFC me wanted to offer to pay (she never asked or even hinted she wanted me to), I kept telling myself "NO!" and, before I could even put much more thought into it, she was on the phone with her roommates to come down the FedEx place.
Now, picture this situation: sHB11 is frantically filling out paperwork while I'm sitting off to the side like a d-bag. She kept turning to me and saying, "I'm so sorry about this!!" and she looked so frantic when she said it, I knew she meant it (IOI). I kept laughing and telling her not to worry. But I was worried. And you know why I was worried? I was worried because the minute 2 gorgeous sHB11s walked through the door (obviously her roommates), I realized I know NOTHING about this girl. I didn't know her name. I didn't know what she did. I was merely some "guy from Barnes and Nobles" (!!!). Awful!
The friends start giving her money and trying to calm her down. Once she shoes them away to hurriedly fillout the paperwork, I decided to just take the plunge:
The Judge: Hey, I'm The Judge. Who're you guys?
sHBs: Hi. We're sHB11's roommates... (both have accents...one English, one I don't know)
The Judge: Cool, what are you guys in the US for?
sHB: Same as sHB11. We're all Revlon models.
Honestly, how do I always end up picking up models? I was almost pissed at that point and felt like saying something like, "No, you're not. You're all a bunch of stockbrokers and you're just shitting me". Anyway, I think I won over the friends. And, surprisingly, they both complained to me that they haven't been out too much in Manhattan because they haven't met anyone (come on guys! Start approaching these sHB11s, they're waiting!!!)
So, finally my sHB11 gets everything done just in time and we roll out of the FedEx place. While I was waiting for her, I texted HB10Frenchie to 1.) figure out if she was going to flake, 2.) Figure out how much time I had to run a solid PU on sHB11. HB10Frenchie writes back she'll be at the sushi place (which is a 2 minute cab ride from B&N) at 6:15ish. It's now 5:45. That gives me 20-25 minutes to make my sHB11 PU solid.
So we get a cup of coffee (she actually insisted on paying!!) and she talked, I qualified. When I IOI'd her, her eyes literally lit up. I ran qualifying game for 20 minutes, thought we made a decent connection then n-closed her. Unbelievably this girl wanted ALL my contact info (i.e. my first and last name, email address, phone number, work number, a picture of me!). It was actually sort of creepy haha. Anyway, we made plans for tomorrow (tentatively). Wow, this FR is so long again. So I'll have to get into my awesome D2 with HB10Frenchie tomorrow. But, as you guys can guess, when she asked for my picture, I figured I'd take one with my cell phone. Let this motivate everyone in day game: IT'S EASIER THAN NIGHT GAME! GIRLS WANT TO MEET GUYS DURING THE DAY! You can approach a sHB11 Revlon Model during the day and stutter, run 0 game, and still have her jumping all over you BECAUSE YOU HAVE BALLS TO APPROACH! I learned this lesson the (almost) hard way today. Here's sHB11 (in the B&N cafe overlooking the NYC traffic!):
But first, wake up with me (not next to me, you're sleeping on my pullout couch).
I wake up at 9am which is late in Judge time. It's late because I usually get up at 6:15 on a Monday. But today's MLK day and MLK helped me score some major HBs today.
So, I stumble out of bed, flip my laptop open, and pull up Mehow's Get the Girl eBook. (http://www.scribd.com/doc/563178/mehow-get-the-girl). While I've never been a huge fan of Mehow, his book was the only piece of popular PUA literature I hadn't read yet, so I bit the bullet and read it.
And, I hate to admit it, but it's golden.
There's so much good stuff in there it's sickening. So, as I'm reading, I see a "text message" section where he claims there's 2 texts that will get even the most unresponsive girls to text you back. These texts are so outrageous I figure "why not try"? So I text HB9 Russian (from an unpublished FR) and HB10Frenchie (from the Albany FR), to FT them.
Okay, I'm going to contradict the fiction writer in me and ruin the suspense to ensure you guys cull all the goodness from this FR. To ruin the suspense, I got a response from HB10Frenchie. Not only did I get a response, but I just went on a D2 with her. Not only did I go on a D2 with her, I had a hardcore makeout session with her (no f-close though, breaking my recent 4 for 4 streak). Anyway, to give you some background: I met HB10Frenchie back in November! (Check out the Albany FR) and she gave me her number. The initial PU was good, but I did no comfort, no rapport. Nothing. I knew when I #-closed her it was probably gonna be a flake, but hoped for the best. After two unanswered and unreturned phone calls, I turned my game to texting. She didn't respond to the first 3 or 4 texts I sent until I sent her a generic "Happy New Year's" text (see my NYE FR) with simply a "thankx!". And, for the Judge, that's an IOI. So I texted her 3 times after NYE, which she shot down I think 2 and just didn't respond to 1. Hence, if you can't already connect the dots, suffice to say I had NO VALUE whatsoever from HB10Frenchie. No only did I have 0 value, I was in damage control for looking for totally needy. And then I read the Mehow text message. Here's the verbatim convo (minus the address of the sushi place) from my text marathon with her this morning at 11:19am
The Judge: I guess this is it. Im moving out but wtf do we do about the cats? Fluffys mine.
HB10Frenchie: Ok why would u text that to me
The Judge: Cute...You know i like fiesty girls so here you are acting like one.
HB10Frenchie: Haha ok
The Judge: Haha...Are you finally moved into the city?
HB10Frenchie: Yea
The Judge: Welcome! monday is sushi night. i want to show u this amazing place...Are you free at 6?
HB10Frenchie: What is the name of the place? Where is it?
The Judge: (Sushi place) on (Blah street and blah ave.)
HB10Frenchie: Never heard of it
The Judge: Its delicious
HB10Frenchie: Did u just text me back? I deleted it by accident
The Judge: Ya...I said its delicious
(10 minutes pass)
The Judge: Ok i gotta run but tonite @ 6 ill meet u on (blah street and blah ave.)?
HB10Frenchie: Ok ill text u when it gets closer. Hopefully i dont get stuck at work
The Judge: Sounds good...And bring Fluffy
Okay, that's the text convo VERBATIM. So, now, if you're me and you just had this text convo, what would you be thinking? FLAKE! Exactly. I don't take this too seriously and call up HB Jazz Singer to chill. She wants me to come to the West side and chill with her and her brother. While I'm assuming HB10Frenchie is going to flake, I'd prefer to stay on the East Side so I can at least SHOW UP at 6, even if I get flaked on (keep in mind the sushi place is a block from my apartment). HB Jazz Singer won't come to the East Side. I say cool and go to Barnes and Nobles to do some writing. While I pretended I was trying to get some writing done, we all know what I was really hoping for. If you don't, you haven't been reading this blog.
And then magic happened.
I swear to God, the events that unfolded could not have been more predictable than what I wrote about last time. Okay, so I roll into the huge B&N, try to get a seat in the coffee area so I can "write". Every seat is occupied, so I roll upstairs to the fiction section. For whatever reason, I end up in the humor section (???) reading an absurd book called, "God is a Woman" (????) and again berating myself for having AA during Day Game (there were decent HBs walking around). Suddenly I see a HB10 (perhaps even the fabled sHB11 I had hoped for) sit not 10 feet from me and peel open a sculpture book! Seeing this, I realize it's EXACTLY what I'd hoped for when I wrote that "Judge's Courtship" test.
She's everything you'd expect from a HB10/sHB11: Tall, thin, blond (runway model looking), dressed in a hip, New York fashionable way. She's got a face you'd expect to see on the cover of magazine.
So I sweat. I peer. I plan an attack. I realize I'm a pussy and can't approach (people were all around! WORST EXCUSE EVER!). So, I walk around a bit. I now see the HB10/sHB11 put the sculpture book back and looking over the "classics" section. I figure this is THE BEST TIME TO APPROACH. I've read more classics than anyone! I see she's picked up "Dracula"! I could just walk over and say, "Put that book down! It's EVIL!" but I don't.
I get so upset with myself, I run downstairs, push through the revolving door and plan on going home. I'm disgusted with myself. How can I call myself "The Judge" run this blog and retreat from a sHB11 when she's SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. That doesn't stop me. I start walking toward the Upper East Side. But, suddenly, when I'm about 2 blocks away from B&N I start thinking of emails I'd exchanged with Decibel. I think of the sets that I've seen Ga'ash effortlessly open. I think of Khaki and the way he's applied my advice to working out. I think of Posey and the solid comments he's made on this blog. I think of everyone who reads this blog and realize I'm a fucking failure if I don't stop, turn around, and open this sHB11.
So I stop. Hesitate. And turn.
Now I'm walking back to B&N and, man, I wish I could've seen a picture of my face at this point. Because I felt like John fucking Rambo. I had a mission and was ready to go down, guns blazing. So, I slam through the revolving doors and start walking in Terminator mode back to the upstairs section. I walk all over the fiction aisles, scanning for sHB11. No where.
I walk up and down the aisles and see nothing. Just fatties. Just dudes. No sHB11.
I think, "SEE ASSHOLE THIS IS WHY THEY HAVE THE 3 SECOND RULE!!!"
I give up and start to leave. Then I see her.
She's sitting in the "Bargain books" section (???) reading something. I stutter step and move. "JUST SAY ANYTHING" I repeat to myself, "ANYTHING!"
I walk past her and...
The Judge: Soooooo what's new in the b-b-b-b-bargain book section???
sHB11: Ah, I'm just writing a text message...I don't know.
The Judge: O-o-oh. Cool. You have an accent, don't you?
sHB11: Yes, I'm from Holland.
The Judge: (thinking she said she's from Poland starts speaking Polish)
sHB11: (Looks at Judge like he's crazy)
The Judge: (Sit down next to her, picks up random book with Fabio on the cover) Look at this guy (points to book), what's his story?
Then, the wierdest thing ever happened. I made really strong eye contact with her. (I heard this is KEY in day game). Like, literally, I started staring at her like she was my girlfriend right before I was going to make sweet love to her. And she returned my gaze. Then we just started talking totally normal. I don't even remember the threads of our convos, but I know I told her I was a writer and she told me she in the US for "work". At this point, it came out she was only 19 (!!!) and I finally realized she was from Holland, not Poland. We talked for about 10 minutes (the whole time some old granny was grilling me as if she'd seen ever episode of the Pick Up Artist and knew exactly what I was up to!) And, finally, noticing it was 5 o'clock said:
The Judge: Hey, I have a half hour before I have to go. But let's go now, I want to have a cup of coffee with you.
sHB11: (Considering) You only have a half hour?
The Judge: Half hour. I'm a busy guy. But I want to hear your story. Maybe I'll put you in my novel. And, plus, I might go to Amsterdam in the Spring. You can be my guide...
The sHB11 looked really troubled at that point. She starts telling me she has to go to "the FedEx before it closes". I'm like, "Dude, that shit is closed today. MLK day baby..." She says it's not and asks if I'll go with her. Because she looked really frantic and upset about it (she had to send keys to her apartment in Paris to her parents or some shit), I agreed. (Also, keep in mind, I was still sort of in shock this whole PU with sHB11 was so easy...I hadn't really run any form of game, just talked to her). So, we leave the B&N together and go to the FedEx place. While I really don't like to let girls lead me, I made sure to take control in the FedEx place (not in a dick-sort-of-way, but I spoke to the guy at the counter and made sure she'd be able to send her keys that day). The guys tells us two pieces of bad news: 1.) she has 10 minutes to fill out all the paperwork before FedEx closes, and 2.) It's going to cost $50 (she only had $5 on her). While the old AFC me wanted to offer to pay (she never asked or even hinted she wanted me to), I kept telling myself "NO!" and, before I could even put much more thought into it, she was on the phone with her roommates to come down the FedEx place.
Now, picture this situation: sHB11 is frantically filling out paperwork while I'm sitting off to the side like a d-bag. She kept turning to me and saying, "I'm so sorry about this!!" and she looked so frantic when she said it, I knew she meant it (IOI). I kept laughing and telling her not to worry. But I was worried. And you know why I was worried? I was worried because the minute 2 gorgeous sHB11s walked through the door (obviously her roommates), I realized I know NOTHING about this girl. I didn't know her name. I didn't know what she did. I was merely some "guy from Barnes and Nobles" (!!!). Awful!
The friends start giving her money and trying to calm her down. Once she shoes them away to hurriedly fillout the paperwork, I decided to just take the plunge:
The Judge: Hey, I'm The Judge. Who're you guys?
sHBs: Hi. We're sHB11's roommates... (both have accents...one English, one I don't know)
The Judge: Cool, what are you guys in the US for?
sHB: Same as sHB11. We're all Revlon models.
Honestly, how do I always end up picking up models? I was almost pissed at that point and felt like saying something like, "No, you're not. You're all a bunch of stockbrokers and you're just shitting me". Anyway, I think I won over the friends. And, surprisingly, they both complained to me that they haven't been out too much in Manhattan because they haven't met anyone (come on guys! Start approaching these sHB11s, they're waiting!!!)
So, finally my sHB11 gets everything done just in time and we roll out of the FedEx place. While I was waiting for her, I texted HB10Frenchie to 1.) figure out if she was going to flake, 2.) Figure out how much time I had to run a solid PU on sHB11. HB10Frenchie writes back she'll be at the sushi place (which is a 2 minute cab ride from B&N) at 6:15ish. It's now 5:45. That gives me 20-25 minutes to make my sHB11 PU solid.
So we get a cup of coffee (she actually insisted on paying!!) and she talked, I qualified. When I IOI'd her, her eyes literally lit up. I ran qualifying game for 20 minutes, thought we made a decent connection then n-closed her. Unbelievably this girl wanted ALL my contact info (i.e. my first and last name, email address, phone number, work number, a picture of me!). It was actually sort of creepy haha. Anyway, we made plans for tomorrow (tentatively). Wow, this FR is so long again. So I'll have to get into my awesome D2 with HB10Frenchie tomorrow. But, as you guys can guess, when she asked for my picture, I figured I'd take one with my cell phone. Let this motivate everyone in day game: IT'S EASIER THAN NIGHT GAME! GIRLS WANT TO MEET GUYS DURING THE DAY! You can approach a sHB11 Revlon Model during the day and stutter, run 0 game, and still have her jumping all over you BECAUSE YOU HAVE BALLS TO APPROACH! I learned this lesson the (almost) hard way today. Here's sHB11 (in the B&N cafe overlooking the NYC traffic!):
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Live my life
Hey guys, I have to apologize for two things. Really just one since one is responsible for the other, but I'll say 2 things.
The first is, sorry I didn't write a FR of my self-proclaimed challenge. To be honest, I went to the B&N, scoped out for babes and didn't see any worth approaching (the second thing I need to apologize for). I know that's the most awful self-delusion in the world and there were HBs there (hot enough to warrant at least approaching), but I had envisioned this awesome situation where I'd run into a sHB11, approach, attract her, bounce her directly to my D2 routine then f-close her. I figured that'd motivate everyone to take the Judge's challenge and start making similar posts.
And, unfortunately, after a few minutes at B&N, I just sipped a cup of coffee and berated myself for getting AA in day game.
Also, it brought another matter to my attention: I'm becoming a PUA snob. I only seriously approach chicks I'm really interested in (HB8+) and no longer practice game on ugs or less attractive women. This is partly related to another trend I've noticed in the field, which I want to develop more in a longer post. However, for now, I'll say the trend I've observed (which tonight confirmed) is that hotter girls are much easier to game than uglier ones. It seems once you approach confidently and congruently, these girls' brains haywire and they act like complete AFCs.
Anyway, it's 2:51 NYC time and I'm about to go to bed. But I had a decent night sarging back at the classy lounge where I pulled HB Asian Model. I rolled with my friend Eddie (known more appropriately as the Man Whore) who is one of the best naturals I've ever met (he was the king of the Crusaders). He understands MM and is interested in it, but relies primarily on natural game (I also want to write a post on MW because a lot of his techniques are unorthodox but effective). Anyway, he got us into some quality sets (notably one HB who was a film actress and singer...her videos are really big in Europe)...she insisted I take her email address and number even though I didn't even ask! But, all night, I kept looking at this HB10 sitting in a huge female 10-set. I told MW early on I thought she was the hottest chick in the place (and there were LOTS of amazingly gorgeous women there) and I was waiting for a good chance to approach. I kept reminding myself of the two most important things when gaming HB10s: 1.) If you don't exude and project complete confidence from the open, you're going to get blown out. 2.) These girls are so used to shooting guys down, their only game is rejecting dudes...they're AFCs once you get past their defenses. Seeing a guy making a fool of himself dancing in front of the 10-set I made my move.
The Judge: (Squats down to HB10) Sooo who's this guy? Dude's got moves, huh?
HB10: Haha, I don't know. Just some random guy dancing I guess.
The Judge: You guess?? Yeah right, you know this guy. He's like your husband or something, don't lie to me.
HB10: Ahahaha...noooooo, he's not I swear.
And it was on from there. If you notice I'm simply referring to her as HB10 and not anything in particular, it's because I didn't do enough comfort to find out anything especially interesting about her (huge mistake). I simply ran game. One very solid move I made, which I highly recommend is I walked away from her then reopened about an hour later. Here's how it went down:
The Judge: Yeah, so this chick totally molested me the other night. Like, if you can picture what Tony the Tiger looks like and make that into a woman, you'd totally be able to get an image of this chick...
HB10: AHAHAHAHHA Oh my God! Tell me this story!!!
The Judge: Shit, I don't know. I gotta get back to my friend. He misses me when I'm gone too long.
HB10: Nooooo, wait! You owe me this story!!
The Judge: Ohhhhh...so high maintenance and we just met. Well, your friends are being rude and ignoring my friend. So here's the deal. Set your watch because I'm coming back in one hour. I'm gonna go grab another drink with my friend then come find you because you're interesting to talk to. When I come back, if you're a good girl, I'll tell you about Tony the Tiger...Oh, but one more thing: Talk to your friends and make sure they know how cool Man Whore is, because if they continue to ignore my friend, it's never gonna work between us. Okay, HB10?
HB10: Judge, you're quite interesting, too. Okay, I'll talk to my friend and I'm setting my watch. You better come back!!
So I walked away, gamed a 2-set for about an hour with Ed then reopened HB10. When I rolled back up to her, she in the same place but now incredibly drunk (in fact, twice during our round 2 convo she took a shot!) but when I rolled back up to her, she gave me a huge IOI:
The Judge: Okay, I'm back. I hope you didn't miss me too much.
HB10: Ahahaha...you took more than an hour! Didn't you miss me??
The Judge: (smiles) Maybe. So, Tony the Tiger...
I saw another subtle IOI when her friend moved over on the couch and motioned for MW to sit with her (she actually told her to talk to MW!). However, HB10 was wrecked at this point so gaming her was like talking to a kid with ADD. She kept on trying to get me to pump her state by telling her stories. She said shit like, "You're a writer! Tell me more stories." Which I said no to. This isn't the first time a PU with a HB10 has quickly gone down the tubes for me, so I acted fast the minute I saw some cracks in my game forming.
The Judge: Alright HB10, it's decided. You're officially fun, pound. It's too bad we're meeting our friends in Murray Hill so I gotta roll out.
HB10: Nooooo, stay with us!! You're fun, too!!!
The Judge: Yo, look at you. You're here, being all cool with your big girl crew. I need to go chill with my guy crew. You know...I feel like a animal put in a zoo here. But, I've enjoyed our convo, we should continue it another time. Now...how could we do that??
HB10: You could stay with us!!
The Judge: Nahh, I already told you I can't do that. Here (pulls out phone), put your number in. I'll call you and we'll meet up and talk when you're not all drunk and shit, you little alcoholic...
From there, I number closed then took her camera and took a sexy picture of us. Hopefully the picture will jog her memory if she was really wasted. I know I might end up regretting writing this blog entry, since there's a good chance this number will flake. But isn't so funny how the HB10s get us so excited....
Goodnight from New York.
The first is, sorry I didn't write a FR of my self-proclaimed challenge. To be honest, I went to the B&N, scoped out for babes and didn't see any worth approaching (the second thing I need to apologize for). I know that's the most awful self-delusion in the world and there were HBs there (hot enough to warrant at least approaching), but I had envisioned this awesome situation where I'd run into a sHB11, approach, attract her, bounce her directly to my D2 routine then f-close her. I figured that'd motivate everyone to take the Judge's challenge and start making similar posts.
And, unfortunately, after a few minutes at B&N, I just sipped a cup of coffee and berated myself for getting AA in day game.
Also, it brought another matter to my attention: I'm becoming a PUA snob. I only seriously approach chicks I'm really interested in (HB8+) and no longer practice game on ugs or less attractive women. This is partly related to another trend I've noticed in the field, which I want to develop more in a longer post. However, for now, I'll say the trend I've observed (which tonight confirmed) is that hotter girls are much easier to game than uglier ones. It seems once you approach confidently and congruently, these girls' brains haywire and they act like complete AFCs.
Anyway, it's 2:51 NYC time and I'm about to go to bed. But I had a decent night sarging back at the classy lounge where I pulled HB Asian Model. I rolled with my friend Eddie (known more appropriately as the Man Whore) who is one of the best naturals I've ever met (he was the king of the Crusaders). He understands MM and is interested in it, but relies primarily on natural game (I also want to write a post on MW because a lot of his techniques are unorthodox but effective). Anyway, he got us into some quality sets (notably one HB who was a film actress and singer...her videos are really big in Europe)...she insisted I take her email address and number even though I didn't even ask! But, all night, I kept looking at this HB10 sitting in a huge female 10-set. I told MW early on I thought she was the hottest chick in the place (and there were LOTS of amazingly gorgeous women there) and I was waiting for a good chance to approach. I kept reminding myself of the two most important things when gaming HB10s: 1.) If you don't exude and project complete confidence from the open, you're going to get blown out. 2.) These girls are so used to shooting guys down, their only game is rejecting dudes...they're AFCs once you get past their defenses. Seeing a guy making a fool of himself dancing in front of the 10-set I made my move.
The Judge: (Squats down to HB10) Sooo who's this guy? Dude's got moves, huh?
HB10: Haha, I don't know. Just some random guy dancing I guess.
The Judge: You guess?? Yeah right, you know this guy. He's like your husband or something, don't lie to me.
HB10: Ahahaha...noooooo, he's not I swear.
And it was on from there. If you notice I'm simply referring to her as HB10 and not anything in particular, it's because I didn't do enough comfort to find out anything especially interesting about her (huge mistake). I simply ran game. One very solid move I made, which I highly recommend is I walked away from her then reopened about an hour later. Here's how it went down:
The Judge: Yeah, so this chick totally molested me the other night. Like, if you can picture what Tony the Tiger looks like and make that into a woman, you'd totally be able to get an image of this chick...
HB10: AHAHAHAHHA Oh my God! Tell me this story!!!
The Judge: Shit, I don't know. I gotta get back to my friend. He misses me when I'm gone too long.
HB10: Nooooo, wait! You owe me this story!!
The Judge: Ohhhhh...so high maintenance and we just met. Well, your friends are being rude and ignoring my friend. So here's the deal. Set your watch because I'm coming back in one hour. I'm gonna go grab another drink with my friend then come find you because you're interesting to talk to. When I come back, if you're a good girl, I'll tell you about Tony the Tiger...Oh, but one more thing: Talk to your friends and make sure they know how cool Man Whore is, because if they continue to ignore my friend, it's never gonna work between us. Okay, HB10?
HB10: Judge, you're quite interesting, too. Okay, I'll talk to my friend and I'm setting my watch. You better come back!!
So I walked away, gamed a 2-set for about an hour with Ed then reopened HB10. When I rolled back up to her, she in the same place but now incredibly drunk (in fact, twice during our round 2 convo she took a shot!) but when I rolled back up to her, she gave me a huge IOI:
The Judge: Okay, I'm back. I hope you didn't miss me too much.
HB10: Ahahaha...you took more than an hour! Didn't you miss me??
The Judge: (smiles) Maybe. So, Tony the Tiger...
I saw another subtle IOI when her friend moved over on the couch and motioned for MW to sit with her (she actually told her to talk to MW!). However, HB10 was wrecked at this point so gaming her was like talking to a kid with ADD. She kept on trying to get me to pump her state by telling her stories. She said shit like, "You're a writer! Tell me more stories." Which I said no to. This isn't the first time a PU with a HB10 has quickly gone down the tubes for me, so I acted fast the minute I saw some cracks in my game forming.
The Judge: Alright HB10, it's decided. You're officially fun, pound. It's too bad we're meeting our friends in Murray Hill so I gotta roll out.
HB10: Nooooo, stay with us!! You're fun, too!!!
The Judge: Yo, look at you. You're here, being all cool with your big girl crew. I need to go chill with my guy crew. You know...I feel like a animal put in a zoo here. But, I've enjoyed our convo, we should continue it another time. Now...how could we do that??
HB10: You could stay with us!!
The Judge: Nahh, I already told you I can't do that. Here (pulls out phone), put your number in. I'll call you and we'll meet up and talk when you're not all drunk and shit, you little alcoholic...
From there, I number closed then took her camera and took a sexy picture of us. Hopefully the picture will jog her memory if she was really wasted. I know I might end up regretting writing this blog entry, since there's a good chance this number will flake. But isn't so funny how the HB10s get us so excited....
Goodnight from New York.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Juggler
I've been reading Juggler's ebook lately (don't kill me!), and I found this quote worth sharing:
Juggler's method is really different from Mystery Method, and I'll be interested in field-testing it. But there's also so much in this book that can be applied to any kind of pickup... I wish I'd started out by reading it.
This form of flirting is the opposite of sarcasm. Sarcasm is when you say something nice but mean something bad. (Avoid sarcasm.) But flirting is when you say something bad but mean "I love you."
Juggler's method is really different from Mystery Method, and I'll be interested in field-testing it. But there's also so much in this book that can be applied to any kind of pickup... I wish I'd started out by reading it.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
New Game
It's 7:24 in NYC right now. I'm walking to a huge Barnes and Nobles with a Starbucks that is 1/2 mile from my apartment. I will approach at least 1 HB and write about it tomorrow, good or bad.
Since I've put this on the blog, I cannot get AA or self-rationalize an excuse or I will have lied to the community.
These are the rules of the game.
Welcome to The Judge's courtship.
Since I've put this on the blog, I cannot get AA or self-rationalize an excuse or I will have lied to the community.
These are the rules of the game.
Welcome to The Judge's courtship.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Upcoming announcements and our community
Aye, it's 11:17pm on a Saturday and it seems strange I'm not out in some crowded bar, sarging babes. However, I went out with an AFC friend tonight and figured I could use one night off from sarging. Anyway, I wanted to update you guys on some ideas that are brewing in my head for the future of this blog (and, subsequently, our little community). As for my posts, I'll 1.) finish the third part of my bio, 2.) begin writing up my "Master Theory"...by the way, what I mean by Master Theory is I've been reading and outlining scores of PUA literature and theory and actively FTing everything. I've posted my thoughts whimsically on the VA boards and on this blog but never sat down and actively wrote out EXACTLY how my archetype works. Therefore, I want to write out my "Master Theory" for my benefit and yours. My developing PUA skill can be broke down into 3 areas: 1.) Theory and learning, 2.) Practice and preparation, and 3.) Execution and field testing. I hope this Master Theory will bridge those 3 areas and give you guys an idea of what I've been doing. And, finally, the third part of my future plans of this blog are 3.) we begin pushing each other. If you read the little text box on the side, this is where all those rules and emotional states come into play. I envision this blog becoming a FR forum where we state missions and force someone from our community to complete that mission. Since it's my idea, I'll carry out the first couple missions and write about them honestly and fully. (i.e. the first missions will involve day game...a sticking point I'm having at the moment). Anyway, there's what I'm thinking right now, but it's just IMO so please feel free to comment or post
your thoughts...
your thoughts...
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Ethics, A Metaphor, and The Judge's Guide to D2s
As the title suggests, I plan on writing a post structuring a fool-proof, 100 percent (so far) effective D2 that will end with a f-close every time. First, however, I intend on writing a few paragraphs on the "ethics" of f-closing on a 1st date (it's probably unnecessary since this is a PUA blog, however listing the reasons might help your frame and inner game). While this entire model fits into my "Master Theory", since I haven't even begun writing that and guys are emailing about D2 advice, I figured I'd write this up ASAP (if you can get a solid D2 than you probably don't need the specifics of the "Master Theory" to f-close, just use this structure and run standard game and you'll f-close). Although, in order to explain the how to approach the D2 (and the "Master Theory") I'm going to offer a metaphor that I believe describes how to view the structure of the D2 and "Master Theory". So, let's begin.
Ethics: As I said before, since we're all PUAs, there's no need for me to tell you that f-closing is your goal on this D2. Over the past few weeks, I perfected this D2 structure (and trust me, working this out was like the early NASA program...I had to sacrifice plenty of gorgeous girls like space monkeys and wreck all kinds of good approaches before I worked out all the kinks!). My PUA friends were all high-fives. My one natural friend (the lone surviving Crusader) was all high-fives. But my AFC friends (notably the ones in LTRs and ones who haven't been laid in a LONG time) started busting on me. Here was our interaction (notably on my birthday!):
(After asking about 3 dates I had in last week and finding out I f-closed all of them)
AFCs: It's cool you're getting laid, but this Pick Up shit only works on sluts. I'd much rather find a girl who isn't willing to bang a guy on a first date. The fact you're out with these girls is scary. You're only attracting whores.
The Judge: Have you ever considered maybe the girls are completely normal, I've just gotten good at seducing them? Most of these girls wouldn't have banged me on a first date a few months ago, but I figured out how to do it.
AFCs: Nah dude, they're whores. See, this is why I don't do this whole Pick Up shit. I'd rather settle down with one good girl rather than have a harem of sluts like you.
The Judge: Yeah, it's such a painful existence. Anyway...(stacks into something non-PU related since trying to explain this stuff to AFCs is impossible - it's simply not in their reality)
Anyway, the reason you simply cannot explain PUA to AFCs is they buy into the "dating frame" hook, line, and sinker. And what does that do for you? It puts you into a female frame. It allows the woman to dictate all the terms of your relationship. Because she can use sex to make you jump through all her hoops, she'll happily withhold sex from the guy, make herself the prize, and use him for validation, entertainment, and free shit (ironically while constantly losing attraction for him). Eventually the guy will either become "just a friend" or a "boyfriend", but never will he be "sexy" or turn her on. When and if she eventually does have sex with him, it will (probably) be more from a feeling of debt than because she really wants to. I know, because I've been that guy before.
So what does a D2 f-close (or same night pull) get you? Aside from the obvious awesomeness, it actually allows you to have a REAL relationship with a woman. I know that sounds strange, but you'll only really get to know the kind of person she is once she knows you're on a equal playing field with her. No matter how much re-framing you do, until you have sex, she's still socially conditioned to at least subconsciously know she still has power over you (because of sex). More on this in the actual D2, but for now, just remember: No matter if you're on a D2 with your future wife or some girl you just want to bone, having sex with her as soon as possibly is crucial. Let's list the reasons:
1.) Even if you never mention being exclusive, women don't want to have sex with lots of guys (with some exceptions) so even if she's letting you see other people, she'll voluntarily take herself out the game and flake off all the other guys who are interested in her.
2.) You're demonstrating you're a high value guy who knows what he wants and is used to getting it.
3.) You're getting laid.
4.) Girls want it just as bad - if not more - as guys and appreciate guys who can excite them without judgment or condescension.
I could probably list about a million more reasons, but I really don't think I need to convince a bunch of hetro guys why getting laid is important. In fact, all this is probably redundant (but I think it's necessary and you should really believe in all these points, not merely trick yourself into believing). But, just to wrap it up, this is NOT to say it's crucial. I'm not advocating rape or pressuring a girl into sex. The ideal D2 situation I'm outlining is where a girl will BEG YOU for sex. If she doesn't want to have sex with you on the D2 it means either 1.) she's into you, but not ready to have sex yet, 2.) she's not into you, 3.) she simply can't have sex on a first date (I don't know if these girls actually exist, but I'm sure they do). In any case, if she's resisting in a IOD way (and you should be well-calibrated enough to tell) JUST DROP IT! Trying to pressure her into sex - or worse, forcing her - is not only completely unethical, but also incredibly needy and unattractive. If she's resisting, just say, "Okay, cool" and devise a game plan from there. But, as I said before, ideally this structure should never place you in that situation. So let's move on...
The Metaphor: Since getting into PUA, I've seen more bad metaphors for gaming than a junior high love poem. Seriously, my stomach cringes every time I hear "PUA is like..." However, I have 1 metaphor that fits my "Master Theory" paradigm and D2 structure perfectly that think is important for your success. So, to be a complete hypocrite: "PUA is like a game of pool."
What do I mean by that? Let's not be abstract. Let me paint a picture for you. When I was in high school, I used to go to track camp every summer. At the end of the week, we'd always have a pool tournament even though we all sucked at pool (our legs were so exhausted by Saturday we couldn't even stand long enough to play whiffle ball...). Anyway, every summer the track camp cook would destroy everyone in the tournament (he was a semi-pro pool shark). Systematically he'd beat every single one of us. But he wasn't a pool god: He'd make mistakes, he'd miss shots. But he'd always win.
Why?
Because he moved with purpose. I don't know how good you guys are at pool but I absolutely suck. I know nothing about it and simply take the most obvious shots or just hit the cue ball wildly, hoping it'll knock something in that'll help me. And this, to me, is how most AFCs and bad PUAs approach dating and pick up. They don't move with purpose. They don't see the angles. They merely fire wildly then get upset or angry when they miss or fuck up. The cook, on the other hand, can miss shots. He can fuck up. He can even stumble a bit. But, since he sees the bigger picture, since he knows he's playing against amateur opponents, since he moves with purpose, he always wins. He never takes a wild shot that might accidently knock in the 8-ball because he doesn't have to. He knows he's going to win and simply enjoys the game.
And that idea of moving with purpose is how you need to approach these D2s. Judging from the emails I get, sometimes I think guys have this image of me that I'm this mPUA who re-frames everything, always has a witty story or great line, and knows what to do in every situation. That is definitely not my reality (I'm not sure if that's even true of the best guru). If you saw me run a PU or on a D2, I make plenty of mistakes. I'm a good storyteller but sometimes my stories BOMB. Sometimes I lose the frame. Sometimes I do something that's ridiculously needy or contradicts my congruency or is just downright stupid. In fact, it's not just sometimes but these things happen fairly regularly. However, since I'm always moving with purpose, I don't get hung up on it. For example, I remember once I told a 5-minute story about a bar pick up attempt my friends I once observed that I thought was hilarious. As I told this story in the most animated way, the HB didn't even crack a smile. When I got to my big punchline and she still just stared at me blankly, rather than say something needy like "Well, I guess you had to be there" or "How do you not find that funny? My friends and I think that shit is hysterical", instead, I pretended I was telling the story to illustrate a philosophical point. I ended on something like, "It's amazing how the typical man brain works. Like why do you think guys' reason like this? What goes through a woman's brain when these types of men approach you at bars?" You see what happened? I took a pool shot and fucked up. But, rather using my next shot to compensate for my fuck up, instead I purposefully assessed the situation and quickly found a new angle. The whole metaphor boils down to one of my cardinal rules of pick up:
Confidence (which sparks female attraction) is communicated less by how you act and more in how you react.
That's why not reacting to AMOGs, passing shit tests, and re-framing HBs' statements spike attraction: You're not acting as much as you're reacting. Anyone can project a scripted performance (acting) but only a true high value PUA can react with confidence.
So, when you're on a D2 and something goes wrong or you feel you're bombing, just remember: You're a PUA. You move with purpose. You're allowed fuck ups, just see the bigger picture. But, now, let's get to the D2...
The D2: Alright, I'm going to outline MY D2, however don't feel you have to get locked into copying the EXACT locations or events. For example, where I bounce her back to my apartment after grocery shopping, you could bounce her back to your car or wherever else you plan to use as your sex location. Essentially, all you need to make this D2 to work is the underlining structure. The locations, activities, and times are completely arbitrary.
Location 1: The Attraction and Comfort phase: The first hour of your D2 should take place here. Ideally, you had her meet you at or near your place (despite what a lot of PUA literature advises, I find it's better not to invite the HB in right away. I usually have girls buzz my apartment and I come down). When you see her, give her a hug, exchange cliche pleasantries, then IMMEDIATELY stack into a story. Just like in phone game, taking the awkwardness of the first 2 minutes off the HB's shoulders is super important in preserving her comfort. For me, I use either the "Grabby Homeless Man" story or I improve a story about something that happened at work that day. For me, the sushi place is 2 blocks away and the story fills in the gap between my apartment and the sushi place.
Once we get to the sushi place and we sit down (By the way, if the hostess says sit where you like make sure YOU chose where you sit. In fact, if she starts sitting down somewhere say, "Sit over here, the view is better"...remember you made the plans, she's in YOUR reality). When the waitress comes over, I ask, "You like beer, right? A round of Sapporo." If she objects, fine (some girls won't drink beer), but most are fine with it. Once the waitress leaves, begin running attraction material.
Again, I'll cover this in the "Master Theory" but you should 10-20 canned stories about your life that you're ready to bust out during dinner. All these stories should communicate various aspects of your personality, where you've been, what you're interested in, what your friends are like, etc. LET HER INTO YOUR REALITY. Also, in between telling these stories, you should be constantly qualifying her and baiting her to tell you interesting things about herself. However, ALWAYS maintain a strong frame (the first half hour is where she's going to shit-test you and try and steal the frame...it's key you constantly remind yourself to act like a guy who has scores of women in his life and she's trying to win you over). Some of my favorite "D2 disqualifiers" are:
Hold out your hand on the table palm up, and demand "Hand" When she complies, inspect her hand, message it a little, run your nails over her palm, then push it away, "Man hands. It'd never work between us."
The key is constantly push/pull and qualify her. Usually after every neg or IOD I hit her with, I immediately stack into a funny story or something that won't let her respond to what I said. This creates a nice "roller coaster" effect, where she gets upset but then is laughing a few seconds later. Also, the way you should tell stories on your D2 is very animated: SUCK HER INTO YOUR REALITY (can't stress that enough).
When the waitress comes to take your order, ORDER FOR BOTH OF YOU. I found ordering something to share is infinitely better than ordering 2 separate dishes. 1.) It'll save you money, 2.) It's a romantic thing, it'll trigger attraction switches in her brain, 3.) She'll eat less and be more in the mood to get naked than if she'd eaten a huge meal.
Throughout the meal, keep threading between DHV stories, qualifying and baiting statements, push/pull material, re-framing your the prize, and neutral topics. Again, I'll develop all this in the "Master Theory" but talking about neutral topics (general interest stuff) is just as important as telling her the hilarious DHV story about the time you went to Germany for a writing assignment. It allows some space for her to process her emotions and shows you're not trying too hard to entertain her. Some topics of general interest I like to talk about are 1.) Monopoly (the board game), 2.) Gender-related issues, 3.) My idea for a Kevin McCallister home security system, 4.) That guy who found his true love on the New York subway. Get the ball rolling on these topics, spend about 3 minutes discussing them, then interrupt her mid-sentence and stack back into a qualifying question or a DHV story. Example:
HB: Oh my God? A Kevin McCallister home security system? Like from Home Alone? That is too funny!
The Judge: Yo, I had my house burglarized when I was 8. They took a bunch of my shit and I never forgot that. If my dad had installed some swinging paint cans or left some micromachines by the stairs that shit would've never happened...
HB: Hahahaha, oh my God. How did they break into your house? Like did they -
The Judge: Wait, I don't want to talk about that anymore. Okay, if we were going to rob a house together how would we do it? And don't say something stupid or I'm gonna rat you out to the cops before our glorious life of crime even begins...
You've succeeded in phase 1 (which is really the only phase you have to do any real work in) if: 1.) You're in the restaurant for over an hour and she's not looking around or getting restless (also, you finished your meal but the waitress is not bringing the check that's a huge IOI as it's obvious to an outside observer that you and your "date" are having an awesome time and they don't want to interrupt); 2.) she's continually qualifying herself and when you neg her or IOD her she says, "Nooooooooo" or "Stop! Don't think that!"; 3.) She's telling you how funny/entertaining you are.
Oh, and one thing I left out. When she gives you a good answer or is IOIing you it's perfectly fine to give her an IOI, SOI, or compliment (just not on her looks). Here are some I found work great:
One and half final points before I bounce you guys to the next location. Point 1: Toward the end of the date, start seeding and hyping 2 things: 1.) Your next location, 2.) Your long-term lock-in prop. The second point only applies to girls you actually want to see again. The first applies to girls you want to f-close. Okay, the next location should be a bar or coffee place, or somewhere that you can talk and get some kino going on. I usually play up the "ultimate white trash" bar down the block from my apartment. Since I make it sound really funny and describe it very vividly, HBs ALWAYS want me to take them there. As for the long-term lock-in prop, if you want to secure a D3 with this girl, start talking about a book or movie (that you own) that you are REALLY passionate about. For me, I usually over-hype my favorite book as this divine entity that if they don't read they'll be incomplete. I seed the sex location as well by saying, "Oh, you want to borrow it? Maybe. It's back at my apartment, if you're good I'll grab it for you later."
Alright, you get the point. Now, Point 1/2: I know all you PUAs are waiting to hear what I say about the check. Just pay it. Usually, HBs will pull out their purses when the check comes. Honestly, if I was really running low on cash and let them pay, I don't think it'd hurt me. However, (and maybe this is still an AFCism left over) I just feel better paying for the first date (also, when they pout about it, I say, "Okay, you can buy me a white trash beer at the white trash bar.")
Location 2: Demonstration of Non-neediness Phase: Phase 2 is simple, but implementing it is critical. So, as we're leaving the sushi place, she thinks we're headed to the white trash bar. Right as we walk out on the street, I go, "Oh shit. I need to pick up some things from the grocery store. Okay, you can come with me and we'll have a little adventure. Come on." (holding out my arm). Once we enter the grocery store, I start walking toward aisle 2 and she always follows. Then I turn around, smile, and say, "Stop stalking me. Go to aisle 1 and pick me out a nice batch of strawberries. And seriously, if they suck, you're fired. Go!" And I playfully push her away.
I usually grab a few things and then come find her in aisle 1. It's funny because every girl I've done this to is always concentrating really hard on the strawberries as if they're life depends on picking the best batch (I take it as a huge IOI). This is a perfect chance to act all "loverly" and sneak up behind her, put your arms around her, and ask how she's doing. I usually like to smell her at compliment her on her perfume. Once she turns around smiling, I quickly push her away, "Come on, let's go. I'm thirsty for some white trash beer" and I walk away from her.
Location 3: Sparking the Sexual Tension: Now, since you have some groceries, you have a reason to bounce her back to your sex location. For me, this is my apartment. So, at this point, she feels really comfortable with me, is giving me tons of IOIs, and I'm starting to escalate my kino. When we get into my apartment, I start putting the groceries away and invite her to, "Look around". (Keep in mind, my apartment is decorated with all kinds of chick crack: From French foreign film posters to my original artwork on the walls to my guitar propped in the corner.) Girls always bombard me with tons of questions which I never answer. Instead, I put my finger over their lips, go "Shhhhhh", pull them into me and kiss them. Usually, the girls get really into it and we start having a little makeout session. I start kissing them a little on their neck and ears, and, once they start getting turned on (after about 2 minutes), I pull away and say, "Come on. White trash bar. I'm thirsty and want to see some mullets." Expect the girl's eyes to go really wide as if saying something like, "What the fuck?" because they've probably never had a guy walk away from them when they were ready to fool around. However, I'm hypothesizing that IF I simply started escalating sexually at this point, I may be able to get her naked and fool around but I doubt she'd bang me at that point. I feel by having the chance to fool around but walking away, you give her the final push she needs to overcome her ASD. When you're ready to pull her, you'll have created all the space you need for a D2 f-close.
Location 4: The foreplay Location: No, the name is deceiving, I don't actually advocate any genital stimulation - even if I did bill location 4 as the sex location. You don't need to do much at this point because the HB will be so turned on, you can literally say ANYTHING. At this point, she should be looking at you with the doggy dinner bowl face, agreeing with everything you're saying, and qualifying herself to you HARD. At this point, I usually just make her work a little harder and frame myself as the prize a few more times, just so she doesn't get buyer's remorse later on. However, two of the biggest traps/shit-tests usually surface at this point.
HB: You are such a player, aren't you?
HB: How many girls have you slept with?
If you answer either of those questions seriously, pack it in brother because you're not getting laid. Honestly, answering a question like "Describe your nastiest shit" would be more attractive than answering either of those questions. Usually I ignore it the first she asks. If she bring it up again, here's how I respond:
HB: You are such a player, admit it.
The Judge: (Smiles) Pa-lease, what would give you that impression?
HB: Because you're a smooth talker and -
The Judge: (Puts finger over her lips) Shhhhhh, I was just starting to really like you and then you went and ruined a moment.
(She'll shut up)
HB: So tell me, how many girls have you slept with?
The Judge: Stop asking, I'm a virgin. You know that.
HB: SHUT UP!! Tell me!! How many? I'll bet it's like a million.
The Judge: A million? Oh my God, you're retarded. That's humanly impossible. Who would have the time to have sex with a million peo-
HB: Ahhhhh! Stop you know what I mean!
The Judge: Okay fine, since you're being so bratty about it, I'll tell you. Is that what you want? Fine. Hold on, let me know do some mental math here....(holds up fingers as if counting) Are we counting just girls or guys and girls...wait, wait, and what about goats? Oh man, and there was that time in Vermont when I had that cow orgy..shit, this is gonna be a hard tally...
HB: Hahahaha, stop!
The Judge: You stop! (Tickles her, starts making out in the bar) Okay, enough with the white trash. I need some classiness. So here's what we're gonna do. I have to be up tomorrow early for work, but let's go back to my place and we'll have a glass of wine and I'll explain the picture/play you that song on the guitar/give you that book I was telling you about.
Location 5: Sex: At this point, it's on. The only final caveat I'll give is I've found the majority of girls I've brought back have said at one point, "We're not having sex though". This is probably the most hilarious statement in the female idiolect because, if she says that, you might as well put a condom on and put a stopwatch on it because you're having sex within the hour. In fact, I got so accustomed to hearing that (usually at the exact same spot, too: As we're climbing the stairs to my walk-up apartment), that on my last D2, I actually beat the HB to the punch and said to her, "Hey, we're not having sex tonight." HILARIOUS! She agreed and then later begged me for sex. I wouldn't recommend using that line the first time you try this D2 structure but try it after a few.
Anyway, I hope this helps and post your results on the blog!
Ethics: As I said before, since we're all PUAs, there's no need for me to tell you that f-closing is your goal on this D2. Over the past few weeks, I perfected this D2 structure (and trust me, working this out was like the early NASA program...I had to sacrifice plenty of gorgeous girls like space monkeys and wreck all kinds of good approaches before I worked out all the kinks!). My PUA friends were all high-fives. My one natural friend (the lone surviving Crusader) was all high-fives. But my AFC friends (notably the ones in LTRs and ones who haven't been laid in a LONG time) started busting on me. Here was our interaction (notably on my birthday!):
(After asking about 3 dates I had in last week and finding out I f-closed all of them)
AFCs: It's cool you're getting laid, but this Pick Up shit only works on sluts. I'd much rather find a girl who isn't willing to bang a guy on a first date. The fact you're out with these girls is scary. You're only attracting whores.
The Judge: Have you ever considered maybe the girls are completely normal, I've just gotten good at seducing them? Most of these girls wouldn't have banged me on a first date a few months ago, but I figured out how to do it.
AFCs: Nah dude, they're whores. See, this is why I don't do this whole Pick Up shit. I'd rather settle down with one good girl rather than have a harem of sluts like you.
The Judge: Yeah, it's such a painful existence. Anyway...(stacks into something non-PU related since trying to explain this stuff to AFCs is impossible - it's simply not in their reality)
Anyway, the reason you simply cannot explain PUA to AFCs is they buy into the "dating frame" hook, line, and sinker. And what does that do for you? It puts you into a female frame. It allows the woman to dictate all the terms of your relationship. Because she can use sex to make you jump through all her hoops, she'll happily withhold sex from the guy, make herself the prize, and use him for validation, entertainment, and free shit (ironically while constantly losing attraction for him). Eventually the guy will either become "just a friend" or a "boyfriend", but never will he be "sexy" or turn her on. When and if she eventually does have sex with him, it will (probably) be more from a feeling of debt than because she really wants to. I know, because I've been that guy before.
So what does a D2 f-close (or same night pull) get you? Aside from the obvious awesomeness, it actually allows you to have a REAL relationship with a woman. I know that sounds strange, but you'll only really get to know the kind of person she is once she knows you're on a equal playing field with her. No matter how much re-framing you do, until you have sex, she's still socially conditioned to at least subconsciously know she still has power over you (because of sex). More on this in the actual D2, but for now, just remember: No matter if you're on a D2 with your future wife or some girl you just want to bone, having sex with her as soon as possibly is crucial. Let's list the reasons:
1.) Even if you never mention being exclusive, women don't want to have sex with lots of guys (with some exceptions) so even if she's letting you see other people, she'll voluntarily take herself out the game and flake off all the other guys who are interested in her.
2.) You're demonstrating you're a high value guy who knows what he wants and is used to getting it.
3.) You're getting laid.
4.) Girls want it just as bad - if not more - as guys and appreciate guys who can excite them without judgment or condescension.
I could probably list about a million more reasons, but I really don't think I need to convince a bunch of hetro guys why getting laid is important. In fact, all this is probably redundant (but I think it's necessary and you should really believe in all these points, not merely trick yourself into believing). But, just to wrap it up, this is NOT to say it's crucial. I'm not advocating rape or pressuring a girl into sex. The ideal D2 situation I'm outlining is where a girl will BEG YOU for sex. If she doesn't want to have sex with you on the D2 it means either 1.) she's into you, but not ready to have sex yet, 2.) she's not into you, 3.) she simply can't have sex on a first date (I don't know if these girls actually exist, but I'm sure they do). In any case, if she's resisting in a IOD way (and you should be well-calibrated enough to tell) JUST DROP IT! Trying to pressure her into sex - or worse, forcing her - is not only completely unethical, but also incredibly needy and unattractive. If she's resisting, just say, "Okay, cool" and devise a game plan from there. But, as I said before, ideally this structure should never place you in that situation. So let's move on...
The Metaphor: Since getting into PUA, I've seen more bad metaphors for gaming than a junior high love poem. Seriously, my stomach cringes every time I hear "PUA is like..." However, I have 1 metaphor that fits my "Master Theory" paradigm and D2 structure perfectly that think is important for your success. So, to be a complete hypocrite: "PUA is like a game of pool."
What do I mean by that? Let's not be abstract. Let me paint a picture for you. When I was in high school, I used to go to track camp every summer. At the end of the week, we'd always have a pool tournament even though we all sucked at pool (our legs were so exhausted by Saturday we couldn't even stand long enough to play whiffle ball...). Anyway, every summer the track camp cook would destroy everyone in the tournament (he was a semi-pro pool shark). Systematically he'd beat every single one of us. But he wasn't a pool god: He'd make mistakes, he'd miss shots. But he'd always win.
Why?
Because he moved with purpose. I don't know how good you guys are at pool but I absolutely suck. I know nothing about it and simply take the most obvious shots or just hit the cue ball wildly, hoping it'll knock something in that'll help me. And this, to me, is how most AFCs and bad PUAs approach dating and pick up. They don't move with purpose. They don't see the angles. They merely fire wildly then get upset or angry when they miss or fuck up. The cook, on the other hand, can miss shots. He can fuck up. He can even stumble a bit. But, since he sees the bigger picture, since he knows he's playing against amateur opponents, since he moves with purpose, he always wins. He never takes a wild shot that might accidently knock in the 8-ball because he doesn't have to. He knows he's going to win and simply enjoys the game.
And that idea of moving with purpose is how you need to approach these D2s. Judging from the emails I get, sometimes I think guys have this image of me that I'm this mPUA who re-frames everything, always has a witty story or great line, and knows what to do in every situation. That is definitely not my reality (I'm not sure if that's even true of the best guru). If you saw me run a PU or on a D2, I make plenty of mistakes. I'm a good storyteller but sometimes my stories BOMB. Sometimes I lose the frame. Sometimes I do something that's ridiculously needy or contradicts my congruency or is just downright stupid. In fact, it's not just sometimes but these things happen fairly regularly. However, since I'm always moving with purpose, I don't get hung up on it. For example, I remember once I told a 5-minute story about a bar pick up attempt my friends I once observed that I thought was hilarious. As I told this story in the most animated way, the HB didn't even crack a smile. When I got to my big punchline and she still just stared at me blankly, rather than say something needy like "Well, I guess you had to be there" or "How do you not find that funny? My friends and I think that shit is hysterical", instead, I pretended I was telling the story to illustrate a philosophical point. I ended on something like, "It's amazing how the typical man brain works. Like why do you think guys' reason like this? What goes through a woman's brain when these types of men approach you at bars?" You see what happened? I took a pool shot and fucked up. But, rather using my next shot to compensate for my fuck up, instead I purposefully assessed the situation and quickly found a new angle. The whole metaphor boils down to one of my cardinal rules of pick up:
Confidence (which sparks female attraction) is communicated less by how you act and more in how you react.
That's why not reacting to AMOGs, passing shit tests, and re-framing HBs' statements spike attraction: You're not acting as much as you're reacting. Anyone can project a scripted performance (acting) but only a true high value PUA can react with confidence.
So, when you're on a D2 and something goes wrong or you feel you're bombing, just remember: You're a PUA. You move with purpose. You're allowed fuck ups, just see the bigger picture. But, now, let's get to the D2...
The D2: Alright, I'm going to outline MY D2, however don't feel you have to get locked into copying the EXACT locations or events. For example, where I bounce her back to my apartment after grocery shopping, you could bounce her back to your car or wherever else you plan to use as your sex location. Essentially, all you need to make this D2 to work is the underlining structure. The locations, activities, and times are completely arbitrary.
Location 1: The Attraction and Comfort phase: The first hour of your D2 should take place here. Ideally, you had her meet you at or near your place (despite what a lot of PUA literature advises, I find it's better not to invite the HB in right away. I usually have girls buzz my apartment and I come down). When you see her, give her a hug, exchange cliche pleasantries, then IMMEDIATELY stack into a story. Just like in phone game, taking the awkwardness of the first 2 minutes off the HB's shoulders is super important in preserving her comfort. For me, I use either the "Grabby Homeless Man" story or I improve a story about something that happened at work that day. For me, the sushi place is 2 blocks away and the story fills in the gap between my apartment and the sushi place.
Once we get to the sushi place and we sit down (By the way, if the hostess says sit where you like make sure YOU chose where you sit. In fact, if she starts sitting down somewhere say, "Sit over here, the view is better"...remember you made the plans, she's in YOUR reality). When the waitress comes over, I ask, "You like beer, right? A round of Sapporo." If she objects, fine (some girls won't drink beer), but most are fine with it. Once the waitress leaves, begin running attraction material.
Again, I'll cover this in the "Master Theory" but you should 10-20 canned stories about your life that you're ready to bust out during dinner. All these stories should communicate various aspects of your personality, where you've been, what you're interested in, what your friends are like, etc. LET HER INTO YOUR REALITY. Also, in between telling these stories, you should be constantly qualifying her and baiting her to tell you interesting things about herself. However, ALWAYS maintain a strong frame (the first half hour is where she's going to shit-test you and try and steal the frame...it's key you constantly remind yourself to act like a guy who has scores of women in his life and she's trying to win you over). Some of my favorite "D2 disqualifiers" are:
- "That was such a funny response. My little sister would say the same thing! In fact, you sort of remind of my little sis! That's so cute"
- "What happened to that nice, sweet girl I met at the bar? Who IS this person sitting across from me?"
- "Hmmmm...I don't know about you, I don't know if this friendship is going to work out..."
- "You know what, I don't care about that. Tell me about..."
Hold out your hand on the table palm up, and demand "Hand" When she complies, inspect her hand, message it a little, run your nails over her palm, then push it away, "Man hands. It'd never work between us."
The key is constantly push/pull and qualify her. Usually after every neg or IOD I hit her with, I immediately stack into a funny story or something that won't let her respond to what I said. This creates a nice "roller coaster" effect, where she gets upset but then is laughing a few seconds later. Also, the way you should tell stories on your D2 is very animated: SUCK HER INTO YOUR REALITY (can't stress that enough).
When the waitress comes to take your order, ORDER FOR BOTH OF YOU. I found ordering something to share is infinitely better than ordering 2 separate dishes. 1.) It'll save you money, 2.) It's a romantic thing, it'll trigger attraction switches in her brain, 3.) She'll eat less and be more in the mood to get naked than if she'd eaten a huge meal.
Throughout the meal, keep threading between DHV stories, qualifying and baiting statements, push/pull material, re-framing your the prize, and neutral topics. Again, I'll develop all this in the "Master Theory" but talking about neutral topics (general interest stuff) is just as important as telling her the hilarious DHV story about the time you went to Germany for a writing assignment. It allows some space for her to process her emotions and shows you're not trying too hard to entertain her. Some topics of general interest I like to talk about are 1.) Monopoly (the board game), 2.) Gender-related issues, 3.) My idea for a Kevin McCallister home security system, 4.) That guy who found his true love on the New York subway. Get the ball rolling on these topics, spend about 3 minutes discussing them, then interrupt her mid-sentence and stack back into a qualifying question or a DHV story. Example:
HB: Oh my God? A Kevin McCallister home security system? Like from Home Alone? That is too funny!
The Judge: Yo, I had my house burglarized when I was 8. They took a bunch of my shit and I never forgot that. If my dad had installed some swinging paint cans or left some micromachines by the stairs that shit would've never happened...
HB: Hahahaha, oh my God. How did they break into your house? Like did they -
The Judge: Wait, I don't want to talk about that anymore. Okay, if we were going to rob a house together how would we do it? And don't say something stupid or I'm gonna rat you out to the cops before our glorious life of crime even begins...
You've succeeded in phase 1 (which is really the only phase you have to do any real work in) if: 1.) You're in the restaurant for over an hour and she's not looking around or getting restless (also, you finished your meal but the waitress is not bringing the check that's a huge IOI as it's obvious to an outside observer that you and your "date" are having an awesome time and they don't want to interrupt); 2.) she's continually qualifying herself and when you neg her or IOD her she says, "Nooooooooo" or "Stop! Don't think that!"; 3.) She's telling you how funny/entertaining you are.
Oh, and one thing I left out. When she gives you a good answer or is IOIing you it's perfectly fine to give her an IOI, SOI, or compliment (just not on her looks). Here are some I found work great:
- "You know I'm glad we met. It's cool we got together like this. I'm having fun."
- "I love that about you! Nice, this friendship may work after all."
- "Okay, you're cool. High five."
- "Awww, are you nervous? Don't be nervous, you're doing fine so far. I liked when you were telling me about..."
- And my all-time favorite (reserved for girls I'm very interested in after they give me an awesome answer qualifying themself): "You know why this is awesome? Because I NEVER meet people like you. I mean, look around, this is Manhattan. There's so many people you could theoretically have sushi with a new person every night. But you know why I'd never do that? Because most people say a lot of shit but never get off their lazy asses and do it. And even more people go through life with no idea what they want or what they're passionate about. When I meet people who aren't like that, like you, I make sure to keep them around. So, we may just have to do this again sometime..."
One and half final points before I bounce you guys to the next location. Point 1: Toward the end of the date, start seeding and hyping 2 things: 1.) Your next location, 2.) Your long-term lock-in prop. The second point only applies to girls you actually want to see again. The first applies to girls you want to f-close. Okay, the next location should be a bar or coffee place, or somewhere that you can talk and get some kino going on. I usually play up the "ultimate white trash" bar down the block from my apartment. Since I make it sound really funny and describe it very vividly, HBs ALWAYS want me to take them there. As for the long-term lock-in prop, if you want to secure a D3 with this girl, start talking about a book or movie (that you own) that you are REALLY passionate about. For me, I usually over-hype my favorite book as this divine entity that if they don't read they'll be incomplete. I seed the sex location as well by saying, "Oh, you want to borrow it? Maybe. It's back at my apartment, if you're good I'll grab it for you later."
Alright, you get the point. Now, Point 1/2: I know all you PUAs are waiting to hear what I say about the check. Just pay it. Usually, HBs will pull out their purses when the check comes. Honestly, if I was really running low on cash and let them pay, I don't think it'd hurt me. However, (and maybe this is still an AFCism left over) I just feel better paying for the first date (also, when they pout about it, I say, "Okay, you can buy me a white trash beer at the white trash bar.")
Location 2: Demonstration of Non-neediness Phase: Phase 2 is simple, but implementing it is critical. So, as we're leaving the sushi place, she thinks we're headed to the white trash bar. Right as we walk out on the street, I go, "Oh shit. I need to pick up some things from the grocery store. Okay, you can come with me and we'll have a little adventure. Come on." (holding out my arm). Once we enter the grocery store, I start walking toward aisle 2 and she always follows. Then I turn around, smile, and say, "Stop stalking me. Go to aisle 1 and pick me out a nice batch of strawberries. And seriously, if they suck, you're fired. Go!" And I playfully push her away.
I usually grab a few things and then come find her in aisle 1. It's funny because every girl I've done this to is always concentrating really hard on the strawberries as if they're life depends on picking the best batch (I take it as a huge IOI). This is a perfect chance to act all "loverly" and sneak up behind her, put your arms around her, and ask how she's doing. I usually like to smell her at compliment her on her perfume. Once she turns around smiling, I quickly push her away, "Come on, let's go. I'm thirsty for some white trash beer" and I walk away from her.
Location 3: Sparking the Sexual Tension: Now, since you have some groceries, you have a reason to bounce her back to your sex location. For me, this is my apartment. So, at this point, she feels really comfortable with me, is giving me tons of IOIs, and I'm starting to escalate my kino. When we get into my apartment, I start putting the groceries away and invite her to, "Look around". (Keep in mind, my apartment is decorated with all kinds of chick crack: From French foreign film posters to my original artwork on the walls to my guitar propped in the corner.) Girls always bombard me with tons of questions which I never answer. Instead, I put my finger over their lips, go "Shhhhhh", pull them into me and kiss them. Usually, the girls get really into it and we start having a little makeout session. I start kissing them a little on their neck and ears, and, once they start getting turned on (after about 2 minutes), I pull away and say, "Come on. White trash bar. I'm thirsty and want to see some mullets." Expect the girl's eyes to go really wide as if saying something like, "What the fuck?" because they've probably never had a guy walk away from them when they were ready to fool around. However, I'm hypothesizing that IF I simply started escalating sexually at this point, I may be able to get her naked and fool around but I doubt she'd bang me at that point. I feel by having the chance to fool around but walking away, you give her the final push she needs to overcome her ASD. When you're ready to pull her, you'll have created all the space you need for a D2 f-close.
Location 4: The foreplay Location: No, the name is deceiving, I don't actually advocate any genital stimulation - even if I did bill location 4 as the sex location. You don't need to do much at this point because the HB will be so turned on, you can literally say ANYTHING. At this point, she should be looking at you with the doggy dinner bowl face, agreeing with everything you're saying, and qualifying herself to you HARD. At this point, I usually just make her work a little harder and frame myself as the prize a few more times, just so she doesn't get buyer's remorse later on. However, two of the biggest traps/shit-tests usually surface at this point.
HB: You are such a player, aren't you?
HB: How many girls have you slept with?
If you answer either of those questions seriously, pack it in brother because you're not getting laid. Honestly, answering a question like "Describe your nastiest shit" would be more attractive than answering either of those questions. Usually I ignore it the first she asks. If she bring it up again, here's how I respond:
HB: You are such a player, admit it.
The Judge: (Smiles) Pa-lease, what would give you that impression?
HB: Because you're a smooth talker and -
The Judge: (Puts finger over her lips) Shhhhhh, I was just starting to really like you and then you went and ruined a moment.
(She'll shut up)
HB: So tell me, how many girls have you slept with?
The Judge: Stop asking, I'm a virgin. You know that.
HB: SHUT UP!! Tell me!! How many? I'll bet it's like a million.
The Judge: A million? Oh my God, you're retarded. That's humanly impossible. Who would have the time to have sex with a million peo-
HB: Ahhhhh! Stop you know what I mean!
The Judge: Okay fine, since you're being so bratty about it, I'll tell you. Is that what you want? Fine. Hold on, let me know do some mental math here....(holds up fingers as if counting) Are we counting just girls or guys and girls...wait, wait, and what about goats? Oh man, and there was that time in Vermont when I had that cow orgy..shit, this is gonna be a hard tally...
HB: Hahahaha, stop!
The Judge: You stop! (Tickles her, starts making out in the bar) Okay, enough with the white trash. I need some classiness. So here's what we're gonna do. I have to be up tomorrow early for work, but let's go back to my place and we'll have a glass of wine and I'll explain the picture/play you that song on the guitar/give you that book I was telling you about.
Location 5: Sex: At this point, it's on. The only final caveat I'll give is I've found the majority of girls I've brought back have said at one point, "We're not having sex though". This is probably the most hilarious statement in the female idiolect because, if she says that, you might as well put a condom on and put a stopwatch on it because you're having sex within the hour. In fact, I got so accustomed to hearing that (usually at the exact same spot, too: As we're climbing the stairs to my walk-up apartment), that on my last D2, I actually beat the HB to the punch and said to her, "Hey, we're not having sex tonight." HILARIOUS! She agreed and then later begged me for sex. I wouldn't recommend using that line the first time you try this D2 structure but try it after a few.
Anyway, I hope this helps and post your results on the blog!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Part II: The Later AFC Years
So, I ended Part I of my story at a very pivotal moment: Right before I met Katya.
As I reread Part I over, I realized I omitted a few girlfriends I had in high school who had little significance to the person (or PUA) I am today; however, no one had more influence on my AFC-ness than Katya.
It began after first semester during winter break. Since this isn’t the AFC or “Chicken Noodle for the Soul” blog, I’ll just say we met and started dating. We dated through my freshman year. We dated through my sophomore year. We dated through my junior year, through my senior year, through my first year out in the “real world”.
And, at first, it was fine. We dated, had good sex, conversed in amazing ways. At first, we dated exclusively. Then, when she went to a college across the country (my sophomore year), we had an “open relationship”. On a quick side note, I did hook up with a decent number of girls in college. My identity in college was very alpha (captain of the cross country team, editor of the school paper, celebrity of the literary journal) but I still had no idea how to convey my “attractive identity”; in fact, dating Katya while pursuing other HBs on the side completely ruined my game. I thought treating everyone like a “girlfriend” was a good game plan. Thus, as you all can probably guess, it was only when I reverted to my crusader habits that I actually had sex or hooked up with anyone. And since I usually didn’t want to “fuck it up” with HBs I really liked, this tactic only brought me HB7s and 8s (with some notable exceptions).
Again though, I don’t want to catalogue my history in hookups during college only because it has little relevance in explaining my story in becoming a PUA. Although, there is ONE example I find very pertinent in shaping my philosophy on PUA: Erika.
Even writing her name brings pangs of regret. In fact, Erika had such a regretful influence on my life, I’ll post an excerpt from an early draft of my novel so you get an idea of her “character”.
* * * * *
Erika. Oh Erika, you had dreams. And, these days, I’m a fan of dreams. In fact, I encourage dreams, although back then, not so much. You see, Erika, I met you back in hipper days. Back in senior year, when I kicked around in faded denims and the kids’ sized tees. Remember how I wore those tees like brightly-colored skin? Remember me, Erika? Then? Yeah, back then I had flair – bootleg flair.
As for my expectations, they were something else. They were not so much, not so much flair. I was still under the impression I’d find in a girl what I should’ve been looking for in an early Led Zeppelin song: She’d have been gutter-mouthed, made up in clumpy eyeliner, slender with a strut. I’d never find that girl in you. Or Katya. Or anyone.
So what I got was something else. What I got was you, Erika.
But, at first, it’d been good enough. Hadn’t it, Erika? Good like when Timps took night classes so I’d invite you over to lounge around and drink Starbucks. Somehow, our get-togethers always spiraled into shit talking sessions on your roommates. Maligning those two sourpusses in your bizarre little idiolect was one of your choice activities, something you came to fiend.
“Beasts!” you complained. “Such beasts. Beastly habits, they fiend beastly boys. It’s such a beastly situation.”
I might laugh, take a long sip of a caramel latte, and add, “Do they ever stop watching MTV?”
“No,” you’d snicker.
“Someone should pimp their beastish lives,” I’d yawn. And, oh! it was so cute how you’d turn to me with puckered lips, reaffirm how you fiended me, and we’d make out until my mouth tasted of nonfat vanilla latte sprinkled with chocolate shavings. (A custom even I grew to fiend.)
Good also were the nights I’d trek across the quad to your dorm, climb the stairs to the girls’ floor, plop on your bed, and skim your typo-plagued lab reports for grammar, style, and MLA citation. And you! you’d crouch in between me and the headboard, lean on my shoulder, breathe hot in my ear, and, with every mark I made, you’d flinch.
“But why,” you sniveled (too often).
“Because,” I sometimes answered, turning to face you. “A subordinating conjunction needs a comma, every time,” or, “Dependent clauses can’t just go and be their own sentences, hun.”
Pulling back from me, your glasses would slip down your nose and you’d jut upright, geekishly readjust the them, and scrunch your mouth to the side, giving futile determination a beautiful, tragic face. For you, Erika, that determination was finding a way into medical school – even if you had absolutely no aptitude for the natural sciences.
No Erika, your talents – outside the ER and more important than saving lives – lied in making people believe in bullshit. And, because my existence was pretty much bullshit at that point, you made me believe in myself. Where, Erika, did you learn such a skill? Was it when you were a Miss Teen Connecticut runner up? You never seemed to forget to walk with a dainty swagger; or flash anything less than a gumless, Chiclet white smile; or neglect to greet people with a wave so graceful it was as if a panel of judges were keeping tally on your every move. Erika. Oh Erika. Fit for the satchel you never wore, you remained feisty and quirky, driven and pathetic. Your shampoo-commercial chestnut hair and tiny singsong voice jumped and bounced whenever you got excited – which was all too often.
* * * * *
Ah, Erika. Ah, nostalgia. Anyway, what differentiates Erika from the other HBs I hooked up with in college is one thing: I GREW to like her. I first met Erika with her friend (actually the HB I labeled HB LJBF from the Albany FR) and immediately gravitated toward HB LJBF, running textbook Mystery group theory on Erika. Once I realized it wasn’t happening with HB LJBF, I turned my attention to Erika. At first, she was just some hot, somewhat annoying chick I’d make out with when I was wasted. But, over time, I started to realize I really liked her. Perhaps even more than I “loved” Katya (this was senior year of college). To quote another scene from my novel, maybe this’ll clarify how it “just happened” (what a chick excuse):
* * * * *
And, at first, it’d been good enough. Enough like something dangerous. In my notebooks I wrote: “With the sneakiness of a benign tumor, my feelings grew deep within me. I never suspected a thing until it was too late, until it’d become malevolent, lethal, beyond operating.” And it’s true, Erika. At first, it was your sarcastic snorts. They got stuck in my head in such a way that everything seemed like a sitcom with an over-zealous laugh track. It all seemed funny, but funny on your terms, Erika. Next I found myself calling people beasts, caught myself using fiend erroneously as a transitive verb. By the time I was sprinkling my otherwise-black coffee with chocolate shavings, I knew it was too late. You’d become my half-girlfriend, my amorous overlap, my cancerous tumor.
* * * * *
So, as this “tumor-like love” grew within me, I started changing my approach to Erika from treating her like a sex object to treating her like my failed “girlfriend paradigm”. And, before I could even grow to enjoy Erika’s company as a non-sex object, she dumped me for THE BIGGEST AFC ON THE PLANET (I’m not saying this in a biter way either…trust me, I’ve been fucked over by dudes in the past and none of it really bothers me but this guy was the poster child for AFC behavior, but I digress…)
Anyway, let’s fast forward to after college. Okay, so you’re me after college. You’re 23 years old. You’ve been working at a respectable publishing company for a year and a half. You’re completing your M.A. in Creative Writing at night. You have a solid group of friends. You have what you think is a great girlfriend but she’s in
And you’re about to get dumped.
You’re stupid but you’re not so stupid that you don’t see the signs: While you’re writing effusive novellas gushing with neediness, she’s writing back 2 sentences responses about “needing to talk when she gets home.” It’s no surprise your dick’s on the chopping block and you’re about to get kicked to the curb.
Quickly, you scrabble for the female resources you think you have.
There was that hotty (in retrospect a HB9!) who gave you her number on Thanksgiving Eve (in fairness, I didn’t pick her up since she had a crush on me when I was a senior in high school and she was a freshman); there was the cutie who you flirted with in high school and you kept in contact with; there was your exgirlfriend Nicole who put on 20 pounds and seems desperate. You even get a curveball thrown your way when a HB8.5 with an incredible rack from grad school insists you take her number the last day of classes. You are breaking up with your girlfriend of 5 years, but you have options.
So, as the days tick down until Katya’s return, you start making power moves so that when Katya dumps your ass, you won’t completely shatter you into a needy wreck. Presupposing you haven’t already.
Okay, now let’s switch back and you be you and I’ll be me, since I don’t want to attribute the atrocious and awful behavior I’m about to write to anyone but the person who deserves the blame: me. I started with the HB9. I called her, got her on the phone, and made plans with her. I’m thinking, “Awesome, that means I’m gonna get laid!” and buy condoms. The night we’re supposed to meet, she flakes (her “dog got sick”). Damn. “Whatever,” I tell myself, “I have PLENTY of options.” Next, I call HB High School Flirt. We talk on the phone. We vibe. We even meet for a coffee date during my lunch break. I invite her to a concert. She accepts. I buy 2 tickets. I get all dressed up but, when I go to pick her up, she doesn’t show. Later she claimed she fell asleep and forgot to wake up. Then I call up my exgirlfriend (HB Fatty) and invite her out for coffee. When I meet up with her, I realize she’s so overweight and gross, I don’t even want to be seen taking her to the movies, so I take her for a “drive” to look at Christmas lights. When I go to kiss her, she shoots me down (!!). Finally, I pull out my last option: HB Incredible Rack from
Her rejection was the hardest. Not because she was the hottest nor the ugliest or because she was the meanest or wasted the most my time or cost me the most money. Her rejection was the hardest because she liked me the most. I had taken 3 writing classes with her, had gotten to know her over 3 semesters, so I had ample opportunity to convey my attractive identity in a non-needy way. In fact, in all these classes, I assumed an alpha role (always participating, people were always kissing my ass about what a great writer I was). She’d been giving me subtle IOIs for months and I figured, “This one is IN THE BAG. No work needed.” So, right before Katya came home, I called up HB Incredible Rack.
And she smelled the stench of desperation and neediness, even over the phone.
Imagine how shaky my voice sounded after coming off the month of female rejection I just catalogued. Imagine how nervous and sad I must’ve sounded when I tried to make plans with her. Imagine all that because I can’t anymore. While I know this conversation took place and I know it was abysmal, my memory’s blocked the specifics of that conversation out. All I remember is we never hung out and she never returned any of my calls afterwards.
Now enter Katya.
She’s home and I’m geared for the worse. However, I’m also desperately hopeful. I’ve been dating this girl for 5 years and a part of me believes she doesn’t want to break up, she’s just forgotten what I mean to her. So, in addition to the Christmas gifts I bought her, I go out and buy a bunch of random, stupid shit for her and her sick grandma. When she gets home, we fight on the phone pretty hard. For a few hours, I actually grew some balls and started giving her ultimatums and maintained a strong frame. She finally agrees to meet the day after Christmas and I trek over with all the dumb shit I bought for her. Aye, again here’s a scene from my novel (there’s some artistic “variation” here, but overall it communicates the emotions of the moment):
* * * * *
I knew I was to be dumped before the formal dumping even began. I knew it when I felt like was living in a sad foreign film. When her plane flew direct from
“I’m home,” she said, almost defiantly.
“Okay,” I agreed. “How was your flight and all?”
“Yeah, it was good. Listen,” she asserted, sounding like she switched the phone to her other ear, “We need to talk.”
I laughed a little. Maybe it was to throw her off, make her think I didn’t see this coming, hope she felt ridiculously militant. “Alright, let’s talk.”
“Come over. Oh, and bring your fucking notebooks.”
10.
I couldn’t find a parking spot on her block, or the next block, so I had to slog through black sheets of rain with a wilt of flowers drooping over my arm. Hair gel I’d applied so meticulously ran in sticky streams down my face and neck. Houses I passed were bedecked in Christmas lights, blinking enthusiastically. But it all seemed more patronizing than festive. And, when I got to her house, the mechanical Santa waving to me from the window really just came off as a downright dick.
Smoothing the creases of my peacoat, I stumbled up her steps, pressed her doorbell. I closed my eyes, blew a deep sigh, and waited. First, the door opened a crack as a wary eye peeped me as if I were a stranger. Then she let me in.
I stepped into the house, which smelled like sawdust, and unbuttoned my coat. My pants were soaked; my socks, swishy; and underwear, that was bunchy. A cold lick of water tricked down my thighs.
She shushed me before I could get out a “hi”. (Her mom was asleep.)
We stood a moment, then, as I tried to give her the flowers, she went to kiss me. With a stutter-step, she didn’t kiss my lips but surprisingly didn’t kiss my cheek either. Somehow, the flowers ended on the floor.
Bending to pick them up, I looked up at her. The lights on her Christmas tree had her face illuminated in flashes of cool Heineken-bottle green. Her hair, once blonde and pony-tail long, now was chopped almost-unattractively short and not dyed or highlighted. She was makeupless, wearing ratty jeans and a baggy cardboard-colored sweatshirt – one she’d bought her mom last Christmas.
I tried to smile.
“Where are the notebooks?” she whispered loud enough so I could pick up the overtones of agitation.
“Dunno,” I hushed back, realizing this excuse was hilariously unacceptable.
(But why should I have told her anything? In four months all she could write me were three e-mails. The first was ostensibly signed “Your friend, Katya”….The second said
“Let’s go somewhere,” she said cupping her hands over my ear. “To talk.”
* * * * *
So that was that I thought. We talked and pretty much broke up. But then, as I began in Part I, she magically showed up at my house on my birthday, took me out to dinner, and we hooked up later in my basement! (Honestly, I have no idea what changed her mind. And, in fairness, it was probably because she simply had nothing better to do rather than anything I specifically did.) We continued to hook up until she flew back to
I was pathetically happy.
Then the week before Valentines Day happened. It’s so hilarious how the whole thing snowballed, I think it deserves a paragraph (it also evinces how weak the bonds of our atrocious relationship were at that point). So, Spring Semester last year was my final year in grad school and I had to complete my thesis (which is the novel I’m excepting from lol) and one night I needed to write 20 pages by the next day. Thus, I pulled an all-nighter, went to work all day, came home and crashed on my couch. And right as I’m drifting off to sleep, my phone rings with a European number. I pick up, lash out (from crankiness), and spark what was to become a 5 day war with Katya. Literally, every hour I wasn’t at work or in class, I was spending on the phone to
So February 14th rolls around and it’s 4a.m.
And oh man! We didn’t just brawl that morning – we FUCKING brawled. To put it in perspective, I dated this girl for 5 years, we spent every holiday together, we had the kind of relationship where we bought each other sibling’s Christmas and birthday gifts, our moms even talked on the phone, but, because of this epic 2 and a half hour fight WE STILL HAVE NOT SAID/WRITTEN/MUTTERED ONE WORD TO EACH OTHER SINCE!!! Insanity! In fact, our fight was so bad, the only thing I could think of doing was going to work that day (if I stayed home, I would’ve just mopped). And thank God I did, because the final chapter of my AFC was about to unfold…
SO, I trek into
* * * * *
It was Valentines’ Day and I was acting erratically. There’d been an almost-office-closing blizzard the night before and the city was a mess. White snow was already blackening into curbside crust. Muddy snow or snowy mud slipped under my cowboy boots. However, I scoffed at the snow and the crusts and the slippage. I marched down the block, notebook swinging under my arm, to the big Starbucks on 7th. The past couple days my unrelenting misery thrust my creativity into the depths of my imagination to escape memories of Katya. I live in an odd balance where personal calamity illuminates my prose. I’ve come to accept it, use it to narcotize myself. Since Katya and I decided that we were done completely – done speaking, done e-mailing – I’d been burning my lunch hours untangling her memory from our songs, our movies, from my soul. So, when a blast of icy wind needled my face, I stoically endured it and kept my eyes on Starbucks.
I slinked inside, waited for my coffee. After getting it, I walked up to the second level, where there’s crowded seating. I usually consider it a good omen when I weasel my way into a seat. This is a Starbucks in a busy section of Midtown. When I walk up the stairs, I see this girl. I’d always dismissed meaningless clichés like “love at first sight” or “time stood still”; however, there was some sort of meaning in that moment. It seemed to jump out from other moments, like how a musician accents a note. I felt something within me, something deep and private, something I didn’t know was there but I wanted, like suddenly finding a 20 in the pocket of a pair of pants. This girl had dark, creative eyes that hinted at depths beyond the obvious fact that she was gorgeous. Her long brown hair fell on her shoulders in ways astonishing. She was cloaked in a long, stylish jacket and she looked well-dressed even amongst New Yorkers. A woman cleared her garbage across the room and I darted for the open seat. I spread open my notebook, clicked my pen, but the words had stopped. Somewhere my creativity clogged like a stubborn ketchup bottle. I looked at her. She was holding a peeled script, reading quietly and making tiny, graceful hand motions. Watching her lips move and her wrist slink, I was sure it was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen. I looked back at the empty blue lines of my notebook. They looked lonely. So I filled them, but I inked words to her. You’re beautiful, you’re beautiful. I looked at her again and thought she might’ve been looking back at me. My hand involuntarily scribbled, “You have fabled beauty. (516) 555 7661 BOBBY.” I looked at this message and it stared back at me like something defiant, like how I imagine Victor Frankenstein’s monster looked back at him. It dared me to hand it to her. I took a long, contemplative gulp of coffee and opened a pack of gum with my teeth. I went to sneak another glance at her but a fat woman sat between us, blocking my view of her.
* * * * *
Hmmmm…I don’t why I stopped there in my journal. The best part was when I actually GAVE her the note. Afterwards, I ran out of the Starbucks and I couldn’t stop shaking for 20 minutes when I got into work. I walked over to my friend Sal’s desk and tried to explain to him what happened, but couldn’t get the words out so I wrote it in an email. I saved the email:
* * * * *
Okay, so I'm in the Starbucks on 7th and I see this girl sitting by herself.
Absolutely gorgeous. Brown hair, looks a little artsy but she's reading a
script to herself so I'm assuming she's an actress or something. But, like I
said, I can't stress the hotness of this girl enough. So, rather than write
my thesis, I spent the hour writing and rewriting letters to her. Finally I
wrote "You have fabled beauty. 516 555 7661 BOBBY" Then I rip the note out of
my notebook and convince myself if she looks up when I leave I'll give it to
her. As I'm walking out, we make eye contact, she smiles then looks down at
her coffee. So I go "Happy Valentines day" and try to place the note on her
table (unfortunately I missed, and it fell on the floor). But the last I saw
of her, she was bending over to pick it up! So maybe there's a
chance...hahaha one of the craziest, stupidest things I've ever done...
* * * * *
So, I guess in some ways you can say that was my first cold approach ever. (Literally, I can’t ever recall another time in my entire life where I approached a stranger for anything more than the time or directions.) As I took the train home that sad, dark, slushy Wednesday, I realized I had to do something about my “love life”. I knew the approach with the actress was stupid and ridiculous. But approaching random strangers was my ONLY option, since me and my friends were out of romantic female resources. That night I went home, did some research, found David D’s Double Your Dating ebook bought it and started reading it immediately.
I polished the book off in two days. That Friday, I remember waking up, going into work and excitedly telling my friend Sal all about David D. That book reframed entire perspective of dating and relationships. I never thought you could actually change your luck with women. I always figured there were ladies’ men, losers, and everyone in between. Overall, I’d been happy with my success, but knew if something didn’t change it was going to be a long time before I found another girlfriend (keep in mind the month of rejection I’d just endured). I explained all this to Sal, walked back to my desk, sat down to proof read a manuscript, and before I could start reading, the vibration of my cell phone interrupted me.
The phone call that changed my life.
I looked at the screen and saw it was a number I didn’t recognize. Only one thing shot through my mind. I darted back over to Sal, danced the cell phone in front of him.
“It’s an unrecognized number!” I kept repeating.
“So answer it!”
“I can’t! I can’t! What if it’s HER!”
The vibrations stopped. And I waited. And waited. And waited. Suddenly it vibrated once more. A voicemail! My fingers scrabbled – punching in my pin wrong twice before I calmed down. What I heard both shocked and scared me:
“Ahhhhh, helllooooooooo…ummmmm, Zee Judge if I right. Dis is zee girl that you met on zee Wednesday in zee Starbucks…” and so on. I listened to this female voice with an accent so strong and bad I wasn’t even sure what country she was from (I thought she might’ve been Korean at first). My first impression: Holy shit, I gave my number to a stranger who’s going to prank me relentlessly. She left an epic voicemail telling me she was an actress from
The girl from Starbucks! So, to make a long story short, I disregarded EVERYTHING from David D.’s book. I was so ecstatic at the thought of dating this gorgeous Polish actress, I didn’t want to risk fucking it up. So I pulled out the AFC handbook and took her to a $200 lunch in Central Park then ice-skating for our first date; to the most expensive sushi place in
It was needy.
It was pathetic.
And it put me in the friend zone. I remember, leaning to kiss her on our fourth or fifth date (I hadn’t tried before because I didn’t want to make her feel “uncomfortable”) and she turned her head and told me in her tragically beautiful accent, “Ahhh zee Judge, I think of like friend. I like. But I like like friend. Yes?”
No.
That day I once again grew some balls (similar to how I acted when Katya first came home). I walked away from her. I didn’t return her phone calls for a week. I answered her emails in the shortest ways possible. I reread David D. Finally, I agreed to meet with her but acted completely different. I was cocky and funny. I changed my body language. I made jokes about not wanting to talk to her anymore and about hooking me up with her costars.
And it worked. At the end of our ‘date’, she was almost crying. She kept saying how much she liked me and I kept laughing, patting her on the head and reminding her, “We’re just friends.” This frustrated the shit out of her. I told her I had to get back to work. She begged me to stay a little longer. So I said we could have a quick cup of coffee in the Borders by Penn Station, and as we were walking through the door, I grabbed her by her thin waist, spun her around, and she leaned in and kissed me. We started making out in the doorway as people squeezed passed us. As David D. says, “It was ON.”
And you’d think I learn, right? Wrong. Once this happened, we started dating. The expensive dates continued. The marathon phone calls resumed. The novella emails came back. It was like I saw something that worked then decided I still knew better (I think a lot of AFCs go through this). And, sure, this had SOME advantages.
I got to date her for 6 months.
I got to go to
I got to have sex with a gorgeous Polish actress.
I got to have, what I then thought was my “dream girl”.
But notice how I began each statement with “I got”. That’s because everything that came out of that relationship, she let me have. She was always the uber prize. I was merely the courtier, the wooer, the chaser. I made all the effort in our relationship. I made all the advances. I woke up every day feeling so lucky to have this girl.
And then one day I didn’t anymore. As everyone can probably guess, we broke up. This was back in August. I remember how dark those days were. I remember I’d just moved into
I remember she broke up with me THE NIGHT BEFORE MY INTERVIEW! I woke up devastated, slinked to the interview, but, as I was walking to the HR office my state completely shifted. I simply placed myself in the moment, let the pressure and nervousness I was feeling translate into confidence and energy and nailed the interview. I’d later use this mental state in all my pick ups.
However, like a guy who gets a HB10’s number then goes home to jerk off, I fell out of state on my drive and felt like shit again. I remember I was so excited about how well the interview went, but so upset I couldn’t call Monika and tell her. Instead of spending the night in
Episode 1 of the “Pick Up Artist” was on, the part right before they send the AFCs into the club. I merely wanted to watch to get a laugh then go to sleep.
Little did I know my life was about to change. By the time The PUA was over, I’d begun shedding my AFC skin.
Wow, it was refreshing to write all that! Part III will chronicle my 6 month evolution as a PUA.
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