I am Knowledge. This is my story!

First and foremost I would like to thank The Judge for allowing me access to the amazing resource of information!

As this is my first post on here I would like to share my story. It has been 24.5 years in the making and as sad as it sounds, it is mine. This being the first time I have completely organized the thoughts and actions that was me AFC, please bear with me. I am primarily posting this in order to get it out of my head. I feel the need to relinquish the feelings associated with this story in order to further my inner game. I want to lay myself out there, no matter how "anonymous" this is, it is still me, still real, and still very hard to admit.

Where to start.....

I have grown up most of my life in rural areas. I would like to say I'm from New York, L.A., or hell even Cleveland. Though none of this would be true. I grew up right outside of a town of 500 people in east Texas until the age of 12, when I moved to Idaho. My father being a Baptist preacher moved to the on town in the world with the HIGHEST percentage of Mormons per capita of any place on Earth, 98% to try and convert the Mormons. This being said, I went from a very low social contact place, to an EXTREMELY socially awkward place.

I was never really much of a social person after I moved to Idaho, due to not fitting in with the other people around me. My dad then died when I was 14 years old, he had been struggling with diabetes for years. I became very resentful of that, as well as then being stuck in Idaho, and knowing there was no longer a purpose to be there. This resentment wound up taking over my life, and highly affected my social outwardness. I ended up falling into the party scene in high school. However it was people from away from high school that I hung out with, never anybody from school. These people were usually angry, socially awkward AFCs such as myself. While there was some female interaction, usually they were very low value girls. And then even then I was to big of an AFC to talk to, especially escalate with most of them. This led to my never ever ever approaching girls on my own, and especially not hot ones. I wound up always seeming to fall into LJBF. Finally I met one HB7 through some friends, and once again fell into LJBF. However, after about 6 months of this we got drunk and wound up fooling around, my first time. This happened a couple of months before my 17th birthday. And as any good AFC loser like myself, at that time would do, I clung on for dear life! It was an on again off again thing, but after that I seemed to get laid by other girls more often. I refrain from using the term HB, as most them would have to be labled "Not so HBs." So I wound up having 2 children, both girls with HB7 and we got married. I was married to HB7Exwife for 3 years. It was hell, I was unhappy in the relationship but was clinging on partially because I felt incapable of attracting anyone as good or better. When she left is when I decided that needed to change. Thus I stepped into a stage of psuedo rAFC. I bought books such "A Complete Idiot's Guide to Getting Girls." It didn't work. I did though meet what became my best friend, and coincidentally the best wing man I have met to date. I started getting laid more often, some HBs, but more frequently Not so HBs. I did though, start working on what I now label my inner game.

I then met another girl HB7, and I repeated a pattern. LJBF for a couple months, sex, girlfriend. I am extremely glad this happened. I was in Alaska at this time, due to having been a medic in the Army and was getting out. So I stayed in Alaska with HB7Hippie. Looking back she is one of the most insecure, fragile girls I know. During the time she was my girlfriend though, she helped be build my inner game to substantial levels. Being a hippie, from a line of hippies they were very into meditation, The Secret by Rhonda Byrnes, etc. This has changed me life forever!

Now to explain how I found this community. This story sounds outrageous, however I swear to you that is is 100% real. My girlfriend HB7Hippie was born and raised in Fairbanks, Alaska. She was a very popular girl throughout the community, having lots of friends. She has been a hairstylist there for 12 years. Anyway, she started telling me about her friend Chris that was some big pickup artist in L.A. Supposedly he was writing a book with the help of this other weirdo that called himself Mystery. Her and Chris had gone to high school together, and they still keep in regular contact, through their Alaskan social circle. Chris has kids there and comes up on a regular basis to see them and take them back to L.A. sometimes. Well after a couple months of hearing about this guy that claims he can get any girl, but has a very gay, or creepy sounding approach (All of these adjectives were my thoughts at the time, not currently) He paints his nails black, etc. So I am thinking this total bullshit, and that this stuff would never work. Mind you I never went and researched either. So eventually the time came when Chris was supposed to be coming to town, July 2006. I was ready to see this guy. I wanted to watch him crash and burn, just like I usually did. So a couple of days before he comes he calls and tell HB7Hippie and someone I will refer to as Nigel Thunder, that Mystery has decided to come with him, but only for 1 of the 2 weeks he would be there. I was excited, I got to watch too freaks crash and burn. So we pick them up from the airport on a Thursday afternoon. Both of them peacocked to the max. Mystery with a beanie, some goggles, and binoculars. And Chris, who I found out goes by Lovedrop was wearing some flashy jeans, a shirt with french cuffs, and a leather coat with blue crosses on it. These guys from the minute we walked into the first bar these guys proved their abilities. Less than 2 minutes of walking into the first bar Mystery had an HB8 and we were bouncing to the next place due to "lack of targets." I had no idea about the slang dealing with picking up girls like this. So, HB7Hippie being good friends with Lovedrop and Nigel Thunder that we hung out with them and chauffeured Mystery around for an entire week. The entire time smoking more pot than some drug dealers have seen in their lifetimes. This entire time driving around getting baked with Mystery, had him pumping out inner game knowledge, magic tricks, constant talk about how to pick up girls, personal info about him. It was a very eye opening experience. The first night I met them I went home and searched the Internet for hours about them and the PUA community. I didn't get to actually train with them their due my having a girlfriend, who was the reason I was hanging out with them in the first place. However I did start applying some of the knowledge with my daily interactions with women, and to my enjoyment I got good responses.

Me and HB7 remained together until this past December. I have now moved back to Idaho to live closer to my to beautiful girls, who constantly remind me why I must change myself. I have started working for myself, and have done so even in Alaska for slightly over 1 year. I am now headed down the path that I want my life to to what I am just getting handed. I am focused and ready to power down the road of business and PUA and feeling like I am a snowball gaining constant momentum. I have started practicing PUA on a regular basis. However I am still having a big AA problem. I have read a few good posts on the VA about it. I am regretful for not keeping better contact with Mystery now, but did send him an email on myspace to which he did respond positively to.

I know that this is long, but I needed to get it all out and already feel soooo much better. Thank you. I look forward to getting better and actually become a PUA instead of the rAFC that I know I currently am. I have spent the last 2 days reading all of the posts on here and they are great. Thanks Judge for setting up this great community.

Peace,
Xtreme Knowledge
"Knowledge is the unquenchable thirst!"

Greetings and Contributions

My first glance of Mystery happened to be on Conan in the summer of 2007, and now I wonder if the FCC should have considered a little more censorship. One of the main points of "The Game" and some David D. is that you cannot let this stuff takeover your life. That being said, the PUA lifestyle has improved every aspect of my life...not just with women.

Whats happenin everybody! I am a 22 year old Musician/DJ/Computer Security Analyst from Pittsburgh. I started the PUA lifestyle after i saw Mystery on Conan. Ive never went too long without a girlfriend since I lost my virginity at 15. The relationships have always been long ones (yrs) so dating new girls every other week is new to me. Every person that knew me before my lifestyle change is now threatened because I am not that same quiet AFC pushover. Anyways, Happy to be part of this community. I enjoy long walks up tall Asians legs, watching the glow of bright blue eyes oozing in passion, and the baffled expression on HB's faces after I leave without getting their number.

A couple great lines I finally got to field test...

Me: Nice to meet you Allie, but I'm afraid to say I prolly wont remember your name...waaay too many syllables.
I-man leaves set and comes back later
I-man: Your Allie right?
HBAllie: Yeah, im surprised you remembered my name!
I-man: Oh i know, waaay too many vowels!
HBAngela: I thought you said too many syllables?
I-man: (Give her weird look and move to next thread)

"I know exactly which one of the 7 dwarfs you would be...(get friends opinion or let them guess) Snoopy". This worked great (once) cause she was interviewing me. Otherwise, you can use Dopey as he is the most liked character. Then I usually go into a Halloween costume thread.

Last night something happened that has happened on more than one occasion. I found 2 best friends and I sarge them both because they are inseparable. (Have not found a good wing man in Pittsburgh) They end up both loving me, and they both thrive for my kino. As the end of the night approaches I cannot decide who's number I should get. So last night I got the number of one, and the facebook page of the other. I joked with them that together they would make one solid hookup! They liked it but I thought of another routine I could have used.

I-man: Stop! (clap hands at same time as the word)
I-man grabs HB hand and spins her around, then repeats with the HB best friend.
I-man: Damn, I haven't decided yet...
HB's: You haven't decided what? (they know what I'm talking about but girls have to be oblivious when this kind of thing happens because of their anti-slut mechanics.)
Me: I haven't decided which one of you I'm going to adopt and make my little sister. (Kudos Lovedrop)
I-man starts qualifying each on whatever.

Enjoy!

Cat String Theory

Guys: I've been working on a lot of good stuff that I'll be posting here over the next few days, so keep your eyes out for that. But, for now, I want to detail a quick post on cat string theory. So, I'm rereading The Game and just finished the section where Mystery walks away from that chick in Eastern Europe and Style explains cat string theory. Having internalized this, I put it to good use this afternoon and wanted to post on it as a reminder of how important cat string theory actually is.

Okay, to give you some background, I ran game with Summa (crazy, ballsy RSD kid) this weekend and some sort of AFCish guy he brought out. (Met up with Ga'ash and Affection for a bit, too) Anyway, like the week before, we ran a ridiculous number of sets and pulled tons of numbers/random k-closes, etc. However, over the past 2 weeks, I only approached one girl I'd consider a HB10 and got blown out by the fat, rude obstacle. (Actually I approached one other 10 a week ago but the set didn't hook.) Anyway, while I closed 7s, 8s and 9s, it wasn't until 2a.m. Saturday night/Sunday morning I found another HB10...

Summa, AFC Man, and myself were coming out of a lounge/bar and I saw a big group of girls outside. After using my patented "Is it any good in there?"opener, I quickly realized my blunder as the question made no sense since we were coming out of the bar. Before the girls could call me out on it, I followed up with, "Just kidding. I had to test you. Wanted to see if you were paying attention. What I meant to say is: DON'T GO IN THERE. It sucks!" (This also evinces you can open saying ANYTHING...this was probably the worst opener in the history of PUA yet because my BL was good and I projected a calm, unreactive voice, the set still hooked). So, as all the girls started squawking at once, I noticed a perfect HB10 sitting on the curb. I pointed at her and said, "You. We're getting married in Vegas. Let's go" and put out my arm. To be honest, I don't know what was going through my head when I said that, but for whatever reason I had a gut feeling it was going to work...and it did! HB10 jumped up and said, "Yeah! I always wanted to get married in Vegas!" and hopped on my arm!

As I started walking down the street with her promenade-style, I told her our honeymoon was going to be at a lounge 4 blocks away. I looked over my shoulder and saw her friends following us along with my wings (who were in utter shock at the illogical events that just unfolded) as we led the group. As we walked down the street, I assumed A3 and started qualifying her in between BT-spikes. Here's an exert of our conversation:

The Judge: Okay, we're going to the 24-hour chapel of love.

HB10FashionChick: Haha, okay!

The Judge: I'm gonna rent out midget Elvis for the ceremony.

HB10FashionChick: Midget Elvis! Definitely!

The Judge: We're only getting married in the drive through...because...you know...I'm not made of money.

HB10FashionChick: Wait! You have to pay for the annulment though...(at this point I was scared she actually thought I was serious about getting married)

The Judge: Woah... (pushes her arm off) I'm looking for a sugar momma...if you're not going to support me and my deadbeat dad ways, this marriage is NEVER gonna work.

HB10FashionChick: Ahhhhhh!!!

The Judge: (takes her arm and starts walking with her again) Okay, fine. Maybe this'll work if you're creative.

HB10FashionChick: OMG!! I am SOOO creative! I study fashion design at hot girl school in the city!

This sort of interaction went on for 3 blocks. At one point, she turned to me and said, "OMG, we're getting married and I don't even know your name!! I'm HB10FashionChick". Also, her friends were following us chirping about being bridesmaids in our hypothetical marriage (it's amazing how highly addictive chick crack actually is). In fact, after they all introduced me to their girl crew, one of the girl's boyfriend pulled me aside and threw me a high five. Anyway, I probably could've k-closed HB10FashionChick at any time as she was complying with everything I was doing to her (i.e. twirling her around the sidewalk, giving me her hands, putting her number in my phone), but, when we got to lounge I suggested, her stupid friends objected and tried to get us to go to another bar down the block. Without even thinking I said no then had to stand by that decision as HB10FashionChick was dragged away into the night.

Anyway, while I didn't run any of kind of solid game, I felt there was enough chemistry and IOIs between HB10FashionChick and I that might amount to a non-flaky number close. So, the next day, I texted her something like, "Pack your bags for Vegas" which she replied, "Hahahaha ok that sounds good". Then I said something about midget Elvis which she also jumped on. I then said I'd call her later, which I did, and left her a VM (unreturned).

Realizing it might've appeared someway needy I called her the next day after such a sloppy n-close, I waited until this afternoon to text her again. Here's a transcript of our texts:

The Judge: R u really a creative chick or was that just line to marry me in Vegas?

HB10FashionChick: Ha i didnt know I could use that as a line

The Judge: Its rare to meet cute creative chicks...Usually only the fat ones do cool stuff

(After an hour of dead air)

The Judge: i want to learn more about u...lets get a glass of wine, im free tonite or tom

HB10FashionChick: Well i cant tonight or tom.

As I pondered over this text for a while, considering if I should plow, IOD back, or just let it go dead air, I thought about cat string theory: You have to be ready to lose the girl in order to get her. So I replied (about an hour later):

The Judge: Ok, it was fun meeting/marrying u regardless...peace

(30 seconds later)

HB10FashionChick: you too. ill be around this weekend if you wanna meet up one night.

Boom. The power of cat string theory.

Pax,
~TJ

FR: Kiss Close, and Then Tanked

I'm just going to throw down the FR I put in the forums due to me being too tired to try to pry more details out if it. It's lengthy as is, so I apologize. Man, the makeout was solid on pretty much all body language.... but after that, I just botched it. I mean, I'm not trippin off it too hard, because it was definitely still an improvement on prior experiences (i.e. last night not closing), but I was too in my head and state was off. Whatevs, here it is:

---

Alright, so last night was a big success as far as being in state and just being out of my on head and just self-amused. Tonight I was having trouble getting back to that. The venue was darker, more compact, and sketchy as hell, and with the incredibly crappy music (danceable, but not awesome) too loud to game, it was all a body language night.

Basically, I was having social proof issues. My people I was rolling with were far too drunk, and were DLVing me so I had to cut them loose. I was pinging from person to person I knew in the room, but no one I could really work with and gain some status. The one girl i could had her (underage and massively drunk) sister with here... needless to say, that one ended poorly.

I haven't opened one set of people I didn't know the entire night, and I'm still just getting my dance on in the crowd. I must have been oozing something awesome because this girl just got super close out of no where. We made eye contact, but I was still body rocking and acting like I was looking for my friends. She comes with the "Do I know you from somewhere?" It's a small college, it's quite well possible. I think we had a pretty good time back in October at a party, but... hell, I don't remember that far back and I sure as hell didn't see that girls face. HB 7.5 introduces herself (not that I can hear), I return in kind, and she's dancing in front of me a little distance away.

Here's where things got interesting. I was far too far in my own head tonight, but I would not be denied. This other guy was about to pull up behind her so I grabbed her hand and brought her in on my leg. She eventually turned around, and I was running light kino on her. In my mind, two things are happening. 1) This is a Red Light Party, and you wear green if you're available, yellow if unsure, and red if spoken for. I'm wearing maroon because it's th best almost-red shirt I have; she's wearing black. So much for signals.. unless I just came off as non-threatening due to my red. 2) With all of this bump and grind I'm telegraphing interest far too quickly.

My boy C-Frenchy walks by, and he was running for office in an election that ended tonight. So, while I'm grind on her, I pull him in and ask about the results. TALK ABOUT NON-NEEDY! I was liable to walk off at any point. I was proud of this, and I figured she got the message when she started working it harder. I kino more aggressively (when in doubt, escalate), and I'm thinking this is going well to say the least. In my head again, I'm looking for a BT spike to move. She starts clawing at my leg (!) so I grab her hand and walk her to the far wall in a bit-darker spot. We get back to dancing, aggressive kino, the usual. I turn her around, continue. Turn her around, continue. I'm losing her... escalate! I spin her around one more time, and pull her in between my legs instead of straddling like before. I tilt her chin up and BOOM, makeout baby!

We'll ignore the fact that I was wearing a red shirt for a reason. Thus is life when you're working on pick-up.

After a little bit, I pull away first, and spin her around to dance up on it again.

And here is where it starts crumbling apart...

SHE pulls me to the middle of the floor. We dance a bit more. She moves towards my ear, so since I can't hear, I'm thinking she's telling me something. I have to pull her to the back of the room, and it turns out she was trying to nibble on my ear. HA... fuck.

SHE invites me to a party across campus that might still be going on. We head from the main room up to get our stuff. I'm just seeing a bunch of people I know on the way up and chatting them up little by little. However, we are no longer holding hands, so there goes my kino. FUCK! We get our stuff, and we're walking. No kino. I didn't really know how to re-initiate, and her BT dropped. I'm thinking I'm at least in comfort at this point, but she's the one who starts putting me through the 1st degree. For some reason, I was still negging, so when she mentioned she's from SoCal, I just kept hitting her hard on it. Too much. I guess this wasn't smooth. We get to the other venue, and it's done. I see more people I know, so I'm trying to DHV because I feel like I've lost her at this point. I run a "What's your life story" qualification thing to get back into it, so we go on that a little bit. I get a phone call (why the hell am I so popular tonight?), and have to chat with him for a minute. Then I see another person I know while we're walking back to her dorm. We get inside, and then that's it. Wish her a good night, and slink home alone.

Good Points:
~ Body Language was solid
~ Kino Escalation
~ Way to be Mr. Popular
~ Makeout, bitch!
~ Overall advancement from last night; Poorer state and out-of-my-head scenarios, but actually moved and K-closed.

Poor:
~ Pretty much everything after the makeout
~ Comfort... non-existent.
~ Walked her back to her dorm... and nothing. WHY DID I LET BT PLUMMET??

Ohh well, tomorrow night is another big party night... maybe I'll truly run some material and legitimize my growth.

FR: Another Thursday in the Trenches

Theory sits across from me, rambling about one of our glory nights, but I’m not listening. My eyes look out of the diner’s fishbowl windows scanning 1^st Avenue. Scanning for one of us. He should be easy to spot. But they’re not always. And when they’re not easy to spot, they make me nervous.

“Pick up is sort of like…” Theory surmises, his voice gaining momentum for a philosophical point. “It’s like – ”

“Dude,” I interrupt him. “Shit, I think that’s him.”

“Where?” Theory asks.

“Look slow,” I whisper with the same hushed tone and furtive eye movement I’d take if spotting a bitchy blonde 10. “Guy, three booths over…”

Theory cautiously turns his head. When his eyes open cartoon-wide, I can practically read the thought bubble floating above his head.

“If that’s the kid,” I announce, “We’re fucked. Let’s run game with him for an hour then say we have work early in the morning…”

Theory puts a palm to his forehead and sighs. Theory has a face peppered with stubble and he’s dressed like a flashy businessman; he’s not prepared to run game for an hour then trek back to Long Island. He angrily thumbs through the comically oversized laminated menu.

“This is what I get,” I say, articulating my thoughts. “This is what I get for trusting the fucking internet again. This is the last time. The last! If this fucking kid can’t even work up the balls to approach us, how is he going to run any kind of game? This is a fucking disaster. A nightmare…”

The kid and I lock eyes. I’ve trained myself to hold eye contact like a tractor beam while his eyes sink like an abused puppy dog’s. The guy has messy orange hair and a ratty orange beard. He’s dressed in flannel. He’s eating by himself and looking at our table as if waiting for our invitation, for our validation.

It’s my fault.

It began a few days before, when I’d received a private message that simply read: “Your posts are always spot on and its apparent that firld experience backs them up. I'll be in NYC from the 4th till the 26th and will be trying to go out everyday (day and night game). It would be metal to be meet up with The Judge. Um, yeah man, I'm 22 and have been doing this since June 08. Lets meet.”

I responded with a place and time. I said to look for two guys, one wearing a handful of silver rings.

“Aye,” I exhale, “Might as well beckon him. You think if I flash my rings, he’ll finally get up the balls to come over?” I start flapping my hand around like a gay diva so the guy unmistakably sees the silver rings glinting on my fingers.

He puts his head down again as the diner door flies open.

An olive skinned guy with wild black hair wearing a print shirt and black sports coat comes strutting in. He looks sort of like a bourgeoisie version of the singer from Rage Against the Machine. When he spots Theory and I, his face lights up and proclaims, “TJ!” from across the diner.

“Thank God,” I say to Theory as a wave of relief sweeps over me. I smile, throw my arms back (assuming this is how men who are naturally good with women might sit) and greet one of us; he introduces himself as Summa.

But, now, I have to prove myself. Have to prove I’m more than just some internet know-it-all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After dinner and some community bullshitting, we take a cab to a warm-up spot Theory and I have come to regard as “Home Field”. The place is way too trashy for the Upper East Side, rivaling the crassest college dive bar; yet, somehow, there’s always a high percentage of beautiful women who flock there any night of the week.

As we crash through the door, I’m shocked to see a bar full of insecure dudes and overweight women. Strike one for The Judge, I think to myself, as I wouldn’t even lower myself to run practice sets on any of the beasts perched on barstools. But before I can apologize to Summa, he’s already chatting up a 5-set of fatties by the bar. I wait a minute then come and wing him.

And it’s just too easy.

While I sometimes encounter a lot of resistance from women who are 6 or lower in the looks department, I also sometimes encounter a shocking lack of resistance. This was one of those times. Within 2 minutes, a drunk fatty is getting way too grabby with me. As I try to laugh it off like a shit-test, I really am feeling uncomfortable and conscious of how my value appears to everyone in the bar. As if fatty senses this, she steps up her aggressiveness, hoarsely proposing to buy me a shot.

“Sure,” I squeak, hoping this will peel her off me for a second so I can better assess the situation.

As I move my eyes across the bar, which is now filling up with cute sorority-looking girls, I suddenly feel two hands grab my face, pull me, and before I can process anything, I’m locked lips with fatty as she spits a shot into my mouth. Before the slight burn of whiskey stings my mouth, a mammoth tongue starts beating around my pallet, reminding me of a biology documentary I’d watched on the undulating motion of the lamprey eel.

“Woah!” I explode, trying to laugh like a high value guy but feeling my voice crack a bit. Fatty stares at me with hungriest of smiles and giggles as I take a step back. She takes a step forward. I smile, start to say something, and take another step back, falling into the cushion of two perfect tits.

I turn around, somewhat startled, and look into the face an absolutely stunning, southern-looking blonde talking on her cell phone. I quickly size her up – a 9 – and game accordingly.

To disarm fatty and pump my value, I turn back to my aggressor, pull Theory into the set and say, “Hey! Why don’t you do that momma bird to baby bird trick on my friend Theory here. He’d love to see it…” knowing Theory is a fan of free liquor and random bar make outs.

The set explodes in laughter and Theory starts running game. Perfect.

I turn back to face HB9SouthernBlonde and greet her friends.

“You guys normal?” I question suspiciously. “Because I need to meet some normal girls…”

HB9SouthernBlonde’s friends – a 4-set – erupt in laughter evincing a field theory of mine: The content of what you say isn’t what’s funny; it’s more of a combination of delivery, timing, and the conviction that you find it funny.

“Wait a minute,” I follow up, raising the ante cautiously, “You guys are like a rock band!”

Laughter.

“Look at you guys…you’re the drummer, you’re the singer…oh no, this girl is the badass bassist…and here’s the guitarist. And this girl…” points to HB9SouthernBlonde on the phone, “This one’s the groupie, huh?”

More laughter as everyone scrambles to dispute the instruments they’ve been assigned to play in my fantasy rock band. I zone out and hear HB9SouthernBlonde cup her hand over her phone to ask, “Huh? What’d you say about me?”

“Don’t worry about it,” I say, dismissing her and turning back to her friends.

For the next 10 minutes, I game up the 4-set of friends with lots of BT spikes. When HB9SouthernBlonde hangs up the phone, she just sort of sits there, clueless. Listening to enough David D., I know this is effective for a while so I continue to pump the 4-set with “inside” jokes about Saved by the Bell and the rock tour we’re all going on. Once I feel I’ve taken it far enough, I abruptly turn to HB9SouthernBlonde and ask her why she’s interesting.

Thinking back on it, we ran so many sets over those 3 days, I don’t even remember what she said or what we talked about (which will be a huge problem if she ends up not being a flake) but I can say this: of the 14 #-closes I pulled over the weekend – one being a girl who told me she was a supermodel and was hot enough that I believed her and one being a stripper – HB9SouthernBlonde was the hottest #-close I pulled.

Anyway, we bounce to the next location: The Lower East Side.

Bouncing to LES always feels like bouncing to another city, another planet. While the Upper East Side is grid-like, organized, and clean cut, the LES is shadowy, haphazard, and artsy.

We step out of the cab and pass the drunks mingling with the bums. We walk along decrepit sidewalks illuminated by the glow of 24-hour pizzerias and diners as we stalk our destination.

We walk into our first venue, which is overly packed and outrageously loud.

After a few lukewarm sets, we wound up separated from Theory so I tell Summa we’re leaving. As we’re walking out, he throws his arm around a very attractive HB8.5BlondeRocker and goes for the instant make out. She laughs but pushes him off as I remark, “Hey! Be nice! That’s my little brother” and continue for the door.

Now, a theory of Affection’s (which he teaches extensively at Project Manhattan) is attraction is created by non-reactivity. This set evinced it.

Since I legitimately was not looking for a reaction, a reaction is exactly what I got. HB8.5BlondeRocker started cracking up and grabbed my hand, pulling me back toward her.

“I like you,” she said, her eyes glinting.

“You’re short,” I laugh patting her head, and then reopen my BT-spiking thread. “And you’re sort of mean, pushing my little brother and all…”

“I am not!” she laughs and hits me.

Game, game, game, doggy dinner bowl, game, game, twirl, almost-kiss and push her off, game, game, seed future date over sushi, game, tells me she’s a singer in a band, game, n-game.

We bounce to the next location.

The rest of the night was set after set of HBs. I decided halfway through the night to try something new: See how quickly I can get numbers. And, honestly, there’s no limit to how quickly you can pull a number off a girl. Since I’ll only take numbers of girls I’m actually interested in calling, a girl has to be a HB8+. But even still, I was getting numbers in less than 2 minutes using this exact routine: “Heyyyyy…high five, are you guys cool? You are? Okay, you guys are SUCH little New York girls, aren’t you? Oh my God, listen to that accent you have…lemme guess, you’re from China? Oh no? Not China? Texas? Your accents from Texas? Stop lying to me you little China girl. Holy shit! You are sooo drunk, look at you!! You only had one drink? Oh my God, there you go with the lying again…what’s my name? Look at you, trying to stalk me already and we just met! Okay okay, you know what…my friends might pull me away at any moment because they HATE liars, so put your number in my phone. I’m gonna call you in exactly two days and you better have your story straight you lying drunk, China woman.”

Every single girl I asked for a number this weekend complied and every number was legit. Also, no matter where you are in the PU, always at least try for the number. As I’ve been hitting the numbers from this weekend, sometimes a girl I ran 2 minutes of game on is totally responsive while a girl I ran a solid hour of game on, comfort kissed, got hypothetically married to in Vegas, and venue bounced with flakes. It truly is a lottery and you NEVER know who’s going to answer their phone.

(i.e. one of my MLTRs – HBJazzSinger – who I’ve been seeing for 4 months and I have an awesome relationship with I closed when I ran game on her in a huge set with her friends with Affection as my wing. I really wasn’t even sure if I was in A2 with her, but, before we were going to leave, Affection told me to #-close her. I protested saying there’s no way she’ll give me her number and, even if she does, she’ll probably flake anyway. Affection insisted I n-close her (he said if I didn’t, he’d do it) so I did. And, sure enough, she called back (she recently told me she gave her number out to 4 other guys that night but only called me back because she thought the line about “we’d never get along…all we’d do is fight and have make up sex” was so witty haha…thanks, Mystery!))

Anyway, Summa wrote an awesome summation of our night and a final set where we totally blew some greasy Manhattan schmuck out of a quality set, which has turned out to be a solid # on VA.

Anyway, Friday and Saturday FRs are forthcoming. Today’s a field night. Happy Valentines day guys haha

Weekend FR

This FR is a summary of the three days that I went out this weekend. I opened probably around 6 or 7 sets, depending on what you consider opening a set. I went out with my wing on Thursday and with friends Friday and Saturday. The ironic part is I opened less sets with my wing then I did with my friends, who are not or know nothing about the community. Below are the two best sets that I ran this weekend.

The first set was a 5 set of all females that I was outside smoking ( I don’t smoke but my wing did and I went outside to join him since we were both being incredible vaginas and letting the AA get the best of us). One of the girls dropped a lighter and I said something like that girl needs to get cut off. They laughed and said that they weren’t drinking. Then I made small talked negged the target for her accent which was a deep country accent (which I absolutely love by the way) then out of nowhere after the target started showing me IOI’s the obstacle throws out we are only 18, shit test I suppose. I ignored the shit test and continued to vibe with the target, but I knew that I showed too much interest too early and didn’t take enough time to disarm the obstacles. I tried to bring my wing into the set by turning my head towards him and asking his input on what we were talking about and the obstacle who shit tested me earlier stood directly in front of me to block me off from the set. After that I knew I lost the set and couldn’t just sit there and try to carry on the conversation b/c that would make me look low value, so I just went on my way. I was reopened later by the target and another one of her friends by asking me if I had a cockpot. I don’t know, I guess the younger girls are immature and stupid, but for some reason those are the girls that I am most attracted to. But I # closed her, w/o proper attraction, maybe 10 minutes of total interaction. I got no response from any of the TMs I sent (two) and have not tried a phone call. But I have my first flake/#close since entering the community and I recognize the mistakes I made, which is good. Also, it was fun and I can’t wait to go out again.

The second set (2 set, 2 hb 7’s) I used the opener that I used at the mall the other weekend, the toilet paper opener, but I used TJ’s suggested revisions. The girls were loving it. It really does make you feel good when people laugh at everything you say. Then I make a little small talk and then broke out my big brother story, but I could tell when I was delivering it that sounded scripted and I messed up telling it a couple of times(with a lot of um’s and stutters). But I guess because the girls weren’t that hot they let me get away with my mistakes. I even got the one of the girls to buy me a shot. I was probably in this set for twenty minutes or so, and I probably could of # closed both of them but I didn’t, probably should of though, but I wasn’t going to call any of them, so whatever.

These were my two best sets, I had a couple where I just opened and ejected, one where I opened a guy in the set but couldn’t bring others in the set and then I just ended up getting way too drunk to do anything effective on Saturday. Though my friends told me that I was talking to a lot of strangers, but I am sure I was just a drunken idiot b/c I was blacked out by midnight. I really didn’t intend on getting as drunk as I did but I hadn’t eaten in a while and was drinking vodka, so I should have expected that. I hope you guys enjoyed reading my FR. Suggestions and comments are welcome. Thanks.

Part III: The Road to PUA

So, now the story becomes interesting, now the story turns to my rise into the world of PUA …

I can pinpoint the exact moment I went from AFC to rAFC or PUA in training or whatever title you’d give to a guy who says, “I don’t have natural game, but can and will learn it. This is an area of my life I’m going to get handled.” Funny thing: that moment wasn’t when I was watching the Pick Up Artist and the AFCs ran game. In fact, that scene reinforced my AFCness, as I remember watching Joe W. roll up to a 2-set and say, “Hey! I like your style!” and me thinking, “That’s a pretty good line!” No, the moment for me came when Mystery, Matador, and J-Dogg rolled into the club. While there’s a lot of talk and speculation about the show being staged (which I’m sure it probably was being I worked in entertainment journalism for a short time), it didn’t/doesn’t matter. The confidence and ease they exuded was like nothing I’d ever seen. It was at that moments, watching the PUAs run game, I said, “Whatever it takes, I’m going to do this.”

So, Monday morning, back at work, I started pulling up whatever websites I could on Mystery and the PUA. One of the first I found was the VA website where I read Mystery’s post on negging. It blew me away and I immediately ordered The Game and Mystery Method off Amazon.com. Later that morning, on my coffee break with Sal, I found out he had also watched the PUA and had the exact same reaction as I had.

This was good very news.

Like two fat guys who make a resolution to keep each other motivated at the gym, Sal and I devised elaborate plans to improve our game. We promised each other we’d overcome our Approach Anxiety by talking to every woman – ugly or hot – that passed us during our coffee break (we took our coffee breaks on a busy street in Midtown Manhattan). As we were talking about this, we both noticed a super hotty walking down the street we had uncreatively dubbed, “Hot Office Girl” As she came close, I looked to Sal and said, “I’m gonna do it” and, as she opened the door, I made my first cold approach:

The Judge: Hey! I don’t mean to be disrespectful but I have to ask you something…if, uh, you don’t mind…

Hot Office Girl: Um, ok…

The Judge: Aren’t you sick of these construction workers across the street giving you catcalls! I noticed them totally hitting on you before and it pissed me off. My God! They were practically hitting on me!

Hot Office Girl: Haha, oh yeah. A few of them are my friends. But they can be rude sometimes.

The Judge: Uh, okay cool. Thanks for answering, see you around.

Even though the question was weak and tentative (keep in mind, I still hadn’t read any PUA literature), Sal’s mouth was gapping. “Dude, that was fucking awesome!” he exclaimed, “You, like, totally dismissed her! Oh man, we’re gonna be like the new Mystery and Matador!” After rounds of high fives, our mission set: Approach everyone to destroy AA.

So, day after day, Sal and I took our coffee breaks and made approaches. However, after the third or fourth day, I noticed a pattern: I approached the first set, used our patented, “I don’t mean to be disrespectful BUT…” opener, started a mini-conversation (luckily, I only had 1 blowout the entire time!) and then turned the floor over to Sal. We’d wait. And wait. And wait. Finally, when we’d spot a girl Sal said he was going to open, he’d freeze as she’d walk by then say something like, “Ah, she was not as hot as I thought she’d be” or “Oh man! I could just tell she was a total bitch!” However, later in the day or the next morning, he’d tell me colorful tales of all the women he’d approached on the train or during his lunch break.

It started to piss me off.

While I enjoy the push of having a wingman, he was simply standing around acting like deadweight. For me, being a guy who suffered from massive AA, I knew that once I opened my mouth, I felt calmer. That’s why I liked Sal there…I had to open my mouth because I’d call it and didn’t want to go back on my word. However, Sal seemed completely content to sit there and do nothing. Eventually, I noticed Sal getting really uncomfortable during our coffee break approaches, so I cut them out all together and started a personal mission: Approach 1 set during my lunch break and 1 set on my walk home.

This is truly where I overcame my AA. While the coffee break approaches were helpful, I knew in the back of my mind that I was only doing them so I wouldn’t lose face in front of Sal. I knew that if I said I was going to approach, then didn’t, I’d have to face him for the rest of the day, reminding me of my small balls (hence why his failure to approach nullified his effect: he couldn’t judge me if he wasn’t approaching either). Instead I worked out and FT’d a fairly good day game opener that was scripted but could be tweaked to be situational. It went something like this:

The Judge: Hey, I like your (name some article of clothing) BUT doesn’t it (name some negative effect wearing such clothing might entail)?

I used to walk all over the streets of Midtown saying shit like, “Hey, I like your earrings but don’t they hurt your ears?”, “Hey, I like your boots but aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin them in the rain?”, “Hey, I like your bag but aren’t you afraid some crazy homeless person is going to steal it?” This opener, while not perfect, was great for a newbie. It has a compliment (keeps you from getting blown out), an embedded neg (gets you comfortable negging people), and forces the HB to qualify herself (gets a conversation started where you seem like the one with the power).

Toward the end of August, right when I received MM in the mail, I had a big breakthrough and a big failure in the same day. It was a Thursday afternoon and I was walking home, promising myself I’d open one set somewhere along my 30 minute walk from Midtown to the Upper East Side. As I was walking up Lexington, I noticed a fairly attractive HB8 and stepped up my pace to open her. But, right before I opened, I noticed a few steps ahead and Perfect 10. Literally this girl was exactly how you’d imagine a 10: Perfect tall, skinny body; flowing blonde hair; a face that was so beautiful, you’d expect to see it on the cover of a magazine or music video…not on the street (in retrospect, the only hotter girl I’ve ever PU’d was the Miss America contestant...which I’ll get to later).

Since I figured, “Hey, I’m learning so I might as well try” I sidled up behind her, opened her from behind (huge no-no), and said, “Hey, I like your jeans but aren’t you afraid you’re going to tear them up walking down the mean streets of Manhattan?” The opener was terrible and my BL was atrocious (I was even shaking when I said it), but for some reason she looked at me, smiled, and launched into this long, 2-minute explanation about jeans and how women have to dress a certain way because of men, and a bunch of other shit I wasn’t paying attention to because all I kept thinking was, “Neg her! Neg her!” So, after she finally shut up, I said, “Uh…well, I forgive you. You’re not from here, are you?” It was a stupid question (I thought it was a neg then lol) but again, she prattled on with some soliloquy about coming from L.A. and how she’s Ukrainian and 23 and some other shit. Once she finished, I said, “Oh, you’re Ukrainian? I can’t talk to you.” When she demanded to know why, I used the old “my ex-gf was Ukrainian and I know you’re all crazy” she gave me a look that implied, “Bullshit” (in fact, I was scared she’d read MM and knew what I was doing! lol) but then I started speaking some Ukrainian to her (Katya actually was Ukrainian so I knew some basic words and greetings) and she flipped out. I remember she grabbed me and said, “That’s some vocabulary you have!” then we started talking about a bunch of random shit. Once the conversation started going stale, I said, “Uh…why am I getting a creative vibe from you? What do you that’s creative?” She jumped all over this question, telling me how she draws and loves fashion…but her real secret love is writing. Then I went nuts (a little too nuts perhaps), high fived her, told her I was a writer, then tried something I’d never done before….

The Judge: Okay, I got to go. Even though you live in LA maybe we can be friends. Do you have email?

HB10: I can give you my email.

I was shocked! I didn’t ask her for it! I know I should’ve asked for the number too but I was super excited just to @-close this girl. I remember walking away and feeling like the biggest ladies’ man. I wished everyone in Manhattan saw me walk up to this gorgeous stranger and within 10 minutes have her writing her email for me. I felt like I was unstoppable. When I got home, I put her email into a MySpace search and found her profile (it was all modeling pictures of her…confirming my suspicions that was a model) and went crazy. I sent the profile to all my AFC friends (huge mistake) and told them the story. I was shocked to find no one was impressed. In fact, they thought what I was doing was creepy and pathetic. Not only were they patronizing, they wanted a demonstration. So we all decided to meet up that night on the Lower East Side.

Perhaps I needed to learn this the hard way, but at that point I thought I had found the panty password for meeting hot women which I couldn’t wait to share with my friends. I had no idea so many people would resist or simply not care about learning to pick up HBs effectively. I figured my friends were hating because they couldn’t believe it, and once I showed them how easy it was, we’d revive the Crusaders and go on a tear. So, the night started with plenty of drinks and bullshiting. After a few drinks, I approached an ugly 3-set with my patented opener, hooked it and ran the set for a while. Unfortunately, none of my friends noticed as they were in another part of the bar. When I came back and asked them why no one came to wing me, they all looked at me like I was lying, and speculations started that I hadn’t actually picked up the girl from the MySpace profile. Stupidly, I said, “Fine, you guys pick the girl you want me to approach and I’ll do it.” (Keep in mind, my confidence was at a false all-time high…I literally thought I was Mystery haha)

Rather than picking a target in that bar, we bounced to another LES bar where my friend saw a girl he was interested in. He pointed her out and said, “There. Why don’t you go open that girl’s Asian friend and introduce me to the cute one.” I smiled and approached the set absolutely assured I’d have no problem opening:

The Judge: Hey, I like your shoes. They look very expensive but aren’t you afraid you’re going to ruin them in a trashy bar like this?

Asian Bitch: Haha nice try asshole! They’re orthopedic shoes dumbass. Way to try a pick up line!! (Shows The Judge shoes actually are ugly, plain white orthopedic shoes)

The Judge: Well, uh…um…I’m out. (Slams beer on the bar and exits)

The next day, emails about how stupid the approach was and how bad I fucked it up circulated. In fact, my AFC friend had the balls to try and accuse me of “ruining his chances” with the friend. My defense: “Dude, I gave you the best opportunity to roll in after me and say, ‘Oh man! What did that guy just say to you??’” While the emails were funny and I have enough of a sense of humor to see the hilarity in the situation I realized an important lesson from that experience: AFCs simply cannot grasp the world of pick up.

After a few days of cooling off, I was back in the field approaching sets on my home from work and on my lunch break. I also began approaching at bars and clubs and was amazed to find how simply I could strike up conversations. At this point, I started getting numbers of 7s just for practice (all of them flaked) and began developing a routine stack.

Another amazing day for me came on September 4. I remember this day specifically (it was a Tuesday) because that’s Katya’s birthday. I remember sitting in my apartment, knowing Katya was expecting a call. I figured, “Hey, I’ll give her a birthday present”, left my apartment with a plan, and walked towards midtown. My goal: Find the most beautiful girl and open her with my newest opener: The grabby homeless guy.

To get a sense of how high my standards were, I walked 3 miles through Manhattan before I found the right girl! But, I knew I had found my target the minute I heard the clop of her stilettos. As I’m waiting for the light to change right in front of Macy’s in Herald Square, I see this absolutely gorgeous petite girl in an evening gown came prancing down 34^th street. As she walks up behind me, I’m in perfect lock in position to deliver the grabby homeless guy opener, get AA for a second, hesitate, then go it.

Honestly, I don’t know how this set hooked. This was my first approach of the night. I’d walked for an hour – the entire time inside my own head – putting a TON of undue pressure on myself to open. When I hesitated and opened my mouth, my voice came out shaky and weak. But surprisingly, the girl seemed not to mind. In fact, she started dusting my back (reverse kino…nice!). I was shocked, mentioned I was still really nervous because of the crazy homeless guy (trying to explain away my bad opener) then tried to eject by saying, “Oh well, another bizarre occurrence in this bizarre week I’m having”. The funny thing is, I really WAS trying to walk away from her. But then, magically…

HB9.5Model: Wait (grabs Judge’s hand)…I want to hear more about this week you’re having.

The Judge: Okay, I’ll walk one block with you out of my way…

And, for a block, I actually ran solid game. Since I was neg crazy, I just kept negging her (I remember I said, “I’m gonna set you up with another guy on the street…I’m not your type”, “You’re such a nice girl and I only date badasses” and “Do you always pull random hot guys off the street and start hitting on them” in back-to-back-to-back succession). For that block, I ran decent enough game that SHE proposed the instant date:

HB9.5Model: Well you’re a lucky guy…

The Judge: Why’s that?

HB9.5Model: Because…I’m gonna let you buy me a drink tonight. And if you’re real good, two drinks.

The Judge: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…you have this backwards, babe. YOU’RE lucky because I’m gonna let YOU buy ME a drink.

HB9.5Model: (Stops and considers) Okay, but just know you’re not a gentleman…

From there, the rest of my game SUCKED. I remember we actually had 2 drinks (which I paid for lol), sat and talked, and all I could do was neg her. It was pathetic. I was trying to be this super cool guy and it just came off really superficial and contrived. The only thing I remember that’s interesting is at one point the girl took out her cell phone, which I ripped out of her hands and started scrolling through. I saw a number listed “Jeter” and, when I asked her who it was, she informed me it was, in fact, Derek Jeter’s number. I asked her how she knew him and she CLAIMS he hit on her, but she didn’t want to go on a date with him because he had grisly nails. Anyway, she was leaving for the Hamptons that weekend, but made me promise I’d call her next Tuesday (totally flaked). While it was a rollercoaster of emotion, it pumped my confidence BIG TIME.

From there, I joined the VA boards and started meeting guys to wing with (thinking that every guy was going to have game I could learn from). Man, was I wrong. One day I’ll write a whole post just on the hilarity of some of the characters I met up with, but just suffice to say for now, most guys were these complete AFC losers who had chronic AA and wanted me to work as a free instructor. (With, of course, the exception of Ga’ash and a few other guys…but the night I met Ga’ash was quite a fiasco as well…keep reading)

Anyway, I realized I was getting better and better at approaches, but knew I needed to see someone who REALLY knew what they were doing run game. Literally, everything I knew was from watching YouTube videos, watching the VH1 show, and reading books. So I started searching around the internet for the NYC Lair/PUA schools.

That’s when I found this link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYeo3nfMTQE

That man’s name is Affection. Since there was no way I could afford a PUA school, I emailed him with an offer: I’d rewrite his website copy if he’d take me out in the field and let me watch him open sets. I was shocked when a few days later, Affection returned my email inviting me to a private party at the Guggenheim museum.

That night will be a scene in upcoming novel…it was so full of theatrics. Imagine a timid, somewhat AFC me standing outside the Guggenheim museum, shivering in the October cold, when I get a text that read something like, “Hey we’re almost there. I’ll be the one with the sparkles on my face, blue military jacket and leather pants ~Affection”.

And, the minute he stepped out of the cab with his wingwoman in tow, I knew it was unmistakably Affection. Imagine that kid you knew in college who was sort of dorky but also sort of a badass. Like a little guy with blonde hair, skinny, but had a wise-ass smirk tattooed on his face. Then dress that guy up in sunglasses (at night) smear sparkles across his face, put him in a blue coat right out of a My Chemical Romance video and slap on some leather pants and industrial boots and you’ll get a visual of the guy who was walking toward me.

I introduced myself and noticed immediately how clearly and articulately he spoke (it really goes to show the value of voice lessons). After shooting the shit for a few outside, we went inside where I was amazed. I’ve sarged with Affection a bunch of times since, but I’ve never seen him more on than that night. The minute we walked into the VIP section, every head turned. Guys ran over to shit test/AMOG him as girls started pulling me aside, asking, “Who IS that guy? Is he gay? Is he single?” I watched Affection systemically run the ENTIRE VIP section. The things I watched him do absolutely blew my mind. He seemed to have a canned response to EVERYTHING and whatever he said hooked. He had me trying outrageous openers and, once I was about to get blown out, he rolled up behind me and salvaged the set. I actually watched him undress a 30-year-old model right in front of me as she just giggled!

It was an eye-opening night.

My brain was racing after watching him and I opened 5 sets on my walk home (ironically one of those sets was a drunk HB Jazz Singer who doesn’t remember this…I actually formally PU’d her at the same party next month).

And the next night, I’d officially become a PUA.

I’m sure for the guys who are PUAs, you can all pinpoint the moment when everything clicked, and while your game might not have been perfect, you realized: I’m not longer an AVERAGE FRUSTRATED CHUMP. For the guys who are new to this, when this night happens, you’ll never forget the exact second that it occurs.

For me, the night started when I met Prada and Theory at a huge Long Island club. I got there somewhat early and the bar was mostly dudes. At this point, Prada and Theory were both not yet convinced of the awesomeness of the PUA lifestyle. As I explained my mind-blowing night with Affection, I noticed a very quality 2-set out of the corner of my eye. It was two HB8’s (blonde and brunette) getting their hands kissed by some PATHETIC AFC. I watched the HBs girl-code each other, get up, and walk away. Using what Affection taught me, I followed them (paying attention to my BL so as not to seem creepy). When they sat down at another part of the bar, I opened immediately:

The Judge: Okay, you guys are gonna have to tell me what that guy just said so I can get the same awesome responses you guys gave him – you know, the disgusted looks, running away. Man, that guy is a PIMP.

HBs: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…That guy sucked!!!! AHHHHH!!!!

The Judge: Cool, get this. I had this girl do the same shit to me last night. (Made up the Tony the Tiger story pretty much on the spot)

HBs: AHAHAHAHAHA

The Judge: (Not sure what to do next…suddenly hears himself repeating something Affection said the night before) Sooo ummm…you must be the bad one…and you, you’re the good one.

I don’t want to record everything that happened, but just suffice it to say, these HBs went NUTS. In fact, I’ve never seen two girls physically fight over me before, as the “bad” one actually hit the good one at one point. Anyway, one thing I’d always been scared to do but saw Affection do routinely was push HBs off of him when they’d touch too early. I always thought when a girl is touching me, it’s an IOI and I should embrace it. But, because all his other material was working so well, when HBBadBrunette put her hands on my chest and exclaimed “WHAT IS YOUR NAME?!?!?!” I actually peeled her hand off me and said, “Touchy, touchy, miss” then went into TD’s angel/devil routine and paraded the girls around the venue on each arm – straight Mystery style. I’ll never forget the look on Prada and Theory’s face when I walked back over to them with a girl on each arm. Anyway, in retrospect, I probably could’ve f-closed HBBadBrunette and sort of wished I had asked for her number. She was ALL OVER me but I was too inexperienced to even go for a k-close…yet.

Because I still hadn’t graduated to PUA status.

So, we ejected from that set and Prada and Theory ran some quality sets throughout the venue. Later in the night, a stupid cover band started playing. As we walked over to the stage area, a group of girls in the front row playing flash game had everyone’s attention. They were all drunk, running around, taking pictures, etc. One girl in particular – an HB9 – was the nucleus of all the attention as the band was asking her what songs SHE wanted to hear and honoring her requests. Prada, Theory and I watched her shoot down at least 3 or 4 guys in the span of one song. (I can still see the way her sparkly gold dress fit perfectly to her slim body and the way she was dancing like a complete diva as every guy stared at her lustfully.)

I knew that bitch had to get negged.

Theory and Prada both confirmed if I could pick up that girl than this shit undoubtedly works. I took the challenge and walked up behind HB9GoldenDress

(As band ends song and there’s 10 seconds of talking time)

The Judge: Hey! The band seems to listen to you because you have such an obnoxious voice. Why don’t you do something cool and request this new song by this underground band. Ace of Bass. The song’s called, “I Saw the Sign”. (Rolls off)

HB9GoldenDress: WHAT?!??!?! (Chases The Judge and grabs him) That’s NOT a new band! Ace of Bass?!?!?!

The Judge: (Brushes off her hand) I’m obviously talking to someone with no culture. They’re, like, the hottest new band. You’re lame, see ya…(Rolls off again)

HB9GoldenDress: OH MY GOD! What the fuck?!?! What is your name. (Grabs Judge again)

The Judge: John Rambo, grabby. (Pushes her off again)

This went on until she introduced me to all of her friends, told me it was her birthday, yada yada. We actually got into one really heated fight during the night then made up (the bar then took a “couples picture” of us and I’m pissed they never posted it on their website because this girl was SMOKING). We ended up snuggling up together on a couch and bonding for an hour (still I was too much of a pussy to k-close using PUA material). And, she eventually got bored I wasn’t escalating and ran back to dance.

At this point, I took some high fives from Prada and Theory and got ready to call it a night. As they both left, I went to say goodbye to HB9GoldenDress to find her getting grinded on by some meathead Abercromie-looking guy. Since she didn’t look too into it, I figured I’d play hero and rescue her. As I walked up to her, a HUGE linebacker type guy grabbed me and said, “AND YOU WERE JUST LEAVING!”

Trying to avoid a needless AMOG situation, I said, “That’s my cousin. I want to say goodbye to her.”

Linebacker guy stared at me angrily, pulled me back into him and whisper-yelled in my ear, “Listen you little bitch…just because you can’t get pussy, don’t be coming up here and cock blocking my friend” and then proceeded to push/launch me across the bar.

At the time, I stormed out of the bar thinking, “Fuck that, I don’t need this shit…” and was about to get in my car and leave. I remember my hand was on the door handle and I thought: I can either leave now like an AFC or I can walk back into that bar and AMOG that fucker.

Before I had time to consider my safety, I was already headed back to the bar. By the time I’d walked back to where HB9GoldenDress was getting rape-danced, I had a plan.

Rather than approach HB9GoldenDress directly, I walked over to her friend who seemed to like me the most.

The Judge: Man, I’m about to go. It’s a shame I can’t say goodbye to HBGoldenDress but it looks like that creepy, grabby guy is all over her…

Awesome Friend: OMG! HBGoldenDress loves you Judge! You have to say goodbye to her….it’s her BIRTHDAY! (Runs and pulls HBGoldenDress away)

When HBGoldenDress walked back up to me, I simply grabbed her and started making out with her.

I don’t know if I became a PUA when our lips met or when I turned around with a huge smile on my face and stared at the irate linebacker. Either way, by the time I walked out (actually sort of jogged out because I was afraid of getting my ass kicked) of that bar, I felt like I had become a PUA.

And the next week confirmed it...

So, the next week Prada and Theory were ready to learn from The Judge. Like Cormac McCarthy’s great character, I actually felt “Judge-like” as I led an expedition into the busy streets of Lower Manhattan. That night, I’d approached some decent sets, but opened EVERYONE. By the end of the night, I’d probably approached 15+ sets.

And, what always seems to be my luck, the last set of the night was legendary.

So, Theory, Prada and I are walking down one of busiest bar streets in Manhattan (literally drunk people everywhere) when I spot a super sexy HB8.5 smoking a cigarette outside some shady club. Seeing this girl, she’s what I like to call a “NYC BITCH”…you can imagine the type: dirty blonde with bangs over her eyes, lots of eye-liner, super skinny with a scowl across her face. So, I open with my all-time favorite opener for girls smoking outside bars:

The Judge: Hey, is it any good in there?

HB8.5SexyBlonde: It’s alright…

The Judge: Cool, because I’m having a horrible night…(stacks into a perfected Tony the Tiger story)

The game I ran on this girl was flawless. I was so loose and calibrated at this point, everything I said was hooking. Every neg was pumping her state. Every hoop I offered her she was jumping through. I felt like the PUA I knew I had graduated into last week.

Then, a dude rolled up.

At first glance, the guy was beefy and good looking enough to be HB8.5SexyBlonde’s boyfriend. He looked like the blonde surfer type you’d see working at a Holister or Pac Sun. When he rolled into the set, he immediately snaked his arm around my target.

I remember thinking to myself: AMOG or befriend him? AMOG or befriend him?

Then I heard myself say, “Hey what’s up bro? I’m The Judge.” The guy introduced himself and ended up being THE coolest guy I’ve ever met in the field (I actually n-closed him later in the night lol). He told me that he and HB8.5SexyBlonde are just friends and she had me repeat all my awesome stories for this guy. He was LOVING it. He insisted we all come inside and do a shot with him. I played hard-to-get so HB8.5SexyBlonde would sweat a little then finally agreed.

And inside is where magic happened.

Now imagine this scene: I’m there in my favorite peacocking outfit (a military shirt from H&M, all my silver rings…actually the first night I wore them all out, and my platform shoes) and Prada and Theory are both dressed up in suits. When we get inside, Prada and Theory start opening sets, but bring the girls over to meet me, where I’m in a lock-in position at a table. HB8.5SexyBlonde and Cool Guy roll back to their table where their “friend” was sitting (I promised to join them in a minute (I encouraged Prada and Theory to open some sets since the night was more of a “mini-bootcamp” than an actual sarge.)

While all this is going on, a set of eyes is observing all this. There is a set of eyes, who is watching me, completely leaned back in a chair, surrounded by two good looking guys in suits and a gaggle of women all laughing at everything I’m saying. As this set of eyes is watching all this, she’s being told by HB8.5SexyBlonde and Cool Guy, “That’s the writer…you have to hear this guy’s story about blah blah blah…”

(I know this sounds like very self-indulgent prose, but bear with me…this is probably the proudest moment of my life haha)

At one point, I looked up and saw the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen staring at me with a smile. Literally, I remember thinking: This girl can’t be real. There’s no way she can be THAT hot. When I realized this was the “friend” Cool Guy described to me outside, I got up and walked over.

As I was walking over, I noticed a table-full of muscular West Point guys putting their arms around this girl and handing her more drinks than she could ever consume. I sort of zoned all that out and reopened Cool Guy (HB8.5SexyBlonde had wandered off somewhere). Immediately he and I started joking around and laughing. Suddenly, I felt a tug on the epaulette of my shirt. Not even acknowledging it, I put my finger up and continued talking to Cool Guy. When I felt the tug again, I turned to stare into the face of absolute beauty. (If I didn’t find the ethics of revealing the identity of the HBs I sarge dubious, I’d send you guys the YouTube links where she was competing for the Miss USA pageant…basically, she made it into the Top 10 for Miss USA…if you can imagine what one of the ten most beautiful women in the US looks like up close, you’ll understand how perfect this girl’s face actually was)

sHB11BeautyQueen: Hi! I’m sHB11!

The Judge: Oh, you’re Cool Guys’s friend?

sHB11BeautyQueen: Yeah! I heard about you. I want to hear that story –

The Judge: Anyway… (turns back to Cool Guy)

sHB11BeautyQueen: (Grabs The Judge again) Wait…what’s your name??

The Judge: (Looks at Cool Guy and laughs like she’s a bratty kid) Haha, it’s The Judge.

sHB11BeautyQueen: Please tell me about this girl that grabbed you tonight…

Cool Guy: Oh man, you gotta tell her…

The Judge: Okay, okay…get this (stacks into the Tony the Tiger story for about the 10^th time that night)

sHB11BeautyQueen: NO!!!! That really happened?!!?!?

I then went on to game both Cool Guy and sHB11 flawlessly. Like I had them telling me all the cool things they’d take me to if I visited their state. sHB11 started telling me how she and HB8.5SexyBlonde live together in the city now yada yada. Basically, I was running game so well I wasn’t even really thinking about it. I was simply in the moment (this is what happens when I run my best PUs…I just zone out and stop even thinking how hot the girl is) until, I start getting massive IOIs. Suddenly, sHB11 grabs my waist:

sHB11: (Points at Judge) You have a girlfriend, I know you do.

The Judge: No, I don’t. I swear.

sHB11: I know you do!

The Judge: Haha, I think you have a boyfriend…look at all these guys who are buying you drinks. (West Point losers kept interrupting, trying to take pictures with sHB11, AMOG me…Theory ran AWESOME interference on these turds) Honestly, I can’t even compete with these dudes. They would WORSHIP you. Like, you’d be their Helen of Troy. They’d call you like 10 times a day, buy you flowers –

sHB11: I HATE these guys. They’re trying to get me drunk. You’re going to have to protect me from them….

The Judge: Haha, you and I would never get along. We’re too similar. You’re really confident and I’m really confident. We’d cut through people like a laser beam…just rip people to shreds.

sHB11: (Starts caressing The Judge’s arm in a very suggestive way) Well, you’re under the impression that opposites attract. That’s not true. Similar people attract. We WOULD get along.

The Judge: I don’t know…actually, you know what…I’d totally make you a character in one of my novels…

sHB11: Tell me!

The Judge: I’d make you a little Scotty dog…you know the one with the mustaches who are so feisty. That would SO be you…haha

sHB11: Haha…a dog?!?! No!!! I want to be the heroine in one of your novels…wait, can you keep a secret?

The Judge: Sure.

sHB11: Okay, I don’t like telling guys this because they always go crazy but I’m a model.

The Judge: Respect. (pounds sHB11)

sHB11: I think you’re really good looking.

The Judge: I can say the same about you.

(Then the fatal moment of the PU…everything at this point was flawless…even though this conversation seems completely illogical, this is exactly the way it went down (with a few words missing here or there)…we were just saying random shit to each other and it was incred then…)

sHB11: (Pulls Judge closer to her) YOU ARE SO FUCKING HOT.

If this was a shit-test, I failed. Picture me as a balloon and her as a needle. Literally, my game went to shit at that point. I know why, too. I remember she said that and I was looking right into her eyes. I should’ve k-closed her the second the words came out of her mouth, but I hesitated. Instead I remember thinking, “Holy shit dude, this girl can be your future girlfriend. This girl could be your wife. Imagine waking up next to this girl, naked. Imagine the happiness this girl will bring you for the rest of your life.”

My awesome qualifying BL melted into sloppy lean-in. My face did the doggy dinner bowl. I started stuttering. Cool Guy noticed this and stopped being so cool. He started giving me a creeper look. I remember at one point I tried to use the classic line, “Hey, you’re gonna be my new girlfriend but wait…hold on…can you cook?” but, when I said it, I only got out the “You’re gonna be my new girlfriend” part out when a loud song came on and drowned out the rest of my sentence so she actually thought I was asking her out. She and Cool Guy both looked at me like I was crazy and he said, “Dude, you JUST met her!”

I saw my game plummeting and decided to eject. Despite all that aforementioned awfulness, I still was able to n-close her. Later, I was even able to get some responses from her on text (I used a complete crutch though, I told her I wrote a part of my novel based on her and wanted to send it to her…that’s when she gave me her email which is on her modeling agency’s website which is where I found out she was a Miss USA Beauty Queen (she’s even listed on Wikipedia!) And HB8.5SexyBlonde was a Miss Teen USA Beauty Queen (she’s only 19!))

I’m sad to say, I’ve probably sent sHB11BeautyQueen 5 emails, probably the upwards of 10 texts, and 3 unreturned VMs. I still try every few weeks just because if she ever unflaked, it would be legendary.

Anyway, this pretty much documents my greatest sarges up until the point of where I started this blog. I guess since I decided not to sarge tonight (my state sucks as I fought with HB10Frenchie all day on text and realized it’s not a shit test anymore….it’s over) I guess I’ll detail one more relevant adventure from my PUA adventures: HB9Russian.

Okay, as I wrote earlier, my AFC friends pretty much hate PUA game and patronize me about it all the time (I actually find it funny). Although I have one friend whose fighting an ongoing internal struggle between loving and hating it. Between the PUAs, we can this guy “Fabio” because he’s a self-proclaimed natural who constantly busts out lines like, “I don’t have to approach girls because they all approach me” or “I am an 11 to girls”. While this guy does reasonably well, he’s no where near as good as he thinks.

Anyway, he’s constantly calling me out and trying to get me to qualify myself in the most ridiculous ways (he’ll often try and bait me into approaching sets he knows are impossible to open), but still Fabio is my good friend and it’s all in good fun.

So, on Halloween, I was sitting in my apartment, just chilling and reading a book. Fabio calls me up, all excited, telling me I have to come out with him and pick up “hot sluts”. Since I saw no reason not to, I showered, dressed in my absurd ‘70s porn star suit and got ready to run some Halloween game.

When Fabio arrived, he pulled some diva shit on me and insisted he go out for sushi, smoke a cigar, and take a shower before going out. This pissed me off because by the time we got in a cab headed to the Lower East Side, it was already midnight (and I had work the next day). To make matters worse, when we get in the cab, Fabio and I have this little exchange:

Fabio: Okay…dude, I know I said I wanted to pick up girls tonight…but it’s getting sort of late and I have a booty call lined up on St. Mark’s street…wanna just meet up with her and her friend and call it a night??

The Judge: Are. You. Fucking. Kidding me? You couldn’t have told me this before I got in the cab? You fucking diva! Are you trying to pass some fat bitch off on me?? Is this what you had in mind??

Fabio: Actually dude, her friend is this super hot Russian chick. Huge tits, really skinny, absolutely beautiful face. Probably a perfect 10.

The Judge: Seriously?

Fabio: Yeah man, but you can’t try to run your pick up shit on her. I’m trying to work a threesome with her and my booty call…

The Judge: That’s just selfish. Sorry but if this chick is as hot as you claim, pick up shit is getting run!

Fabio: Yeah, actually you know what. I’d love to see you TRY and pick this girl up. I’ll be laughing at you when you’re crying because this chick shot you down.

The Judge: Awesome, it’s on.

So when we get to this bar on St. Mark’s, Fabio is greeted by a dumpy HB7 who leads us into the bar. Sure enough, when I walk in, I see a tall, gorgeous, d-chested Slavic-looking girl in a slutty nurse costume surrounded by 5 AFCs (doing the drink routine of course).

Wasting no time, I cut through the AFCs, walk right up to her and say something like, “Your friend is friends with my friend..so we should probably be friends. I’m The Judge.” She gave me a look like I was the biggest piece of shit and walked away.

I was shocked. Not only did I get blown out, but she was so rude!

Anyway, I’m always one for plowing. So, a few minutes later, I go back over to her again and say, “Okay, let’s try this again. We’re going to be friends eventually so stop being rude. I’m sick of rude girls…I just got man-handled by this fat girl who looked like Tony the Tiger…”

“Who’s Tony the Tiger?” she asked and I could hear traces of her Russian accent.

“It’s the guy on the cereal box –” and, before I could finish my sentence, she was walking away from me again.

Unreal!

I realized why Fabio (who was watching all this with a huge smile) had challenged me: She had shot him down and he’d watched her shoot tons of other guys down (a little factoid she later told me on our D2). And she was especially ruthless on Halloween in her slutty nurse costume. Not even thinking of what I was doing, I opened Fabio’s HB7 and started telling her the Tony the Tiger story.

And, goddamn, if I ever see HB7Dumpy out again, I’m gonna k-close her just for being awesome. She ATE THAT SHIT UP. Literally, was pissing her pants laughing and totally DHVing me. Telling me I’m “like the funniest guy ever”, taking pictures of me and her (flash game!) and just making a huge scene that made me look like a complete rockstar.

And HB9Russian noticed.

As I was talking to HB7Dumpy I knew HB9Russian had sidled up behind me. Just to return her IODs, I sort of closed my BL off to her and made her peck in to hear what I was saying to HB7Dumpy. Once HB9Russian was pecking, I said, “Gimme your hand” and when she complied I pushed it away and said, “Gross, it’s all sweaty.” She tried to tell me it was from her drink but I just ignored her and continued talking to HB7Dumpy.

I noticed HB9Russian became much more receptive to me after that and I realized her weakness: push/pull. For the next 20 minutes, I ran straight Swinggcat routines from pulling her into to me and then pushing her off to doing the whole “If you were a dog, why would I adopt you from the pound.” When I could tell I’d pumped her BL enough, I pulled her into me and started whispering in her ear, “You know what I’d do with you…I’d take you to Paris with me and we’d sit out on a sidewalk café and sip cappuccino and fight. I’d love to fight with you because you’re so feisty….” This shit was so corny but HB9Russian ate it up. Within a half hour, she was sitting on my lap and I kept pretending I was going to kiss her, stopping short then yelling at her for trying to kiss me (which drove her nuts).

Everything was great until Fabio came over, literally grabbed me by the shirt collar (like I was a fucking bratty stepchild) and SCREAMED at me by the men’s bathroom.

Fabio: Okay asshole, you proved your point. You can pick her up. Now stop, you’re ruining my chances at a threesome.

The Judge: Okay, no. What you’re saying right now is just selfish. Threesome?? Are you fucking kidding??

Fabio: No man! You’re just being a shitty friend right now. Now, here’s what happening: I’m ASKING you not to do this. If you’re a good friend, you’ll listen and turn your little pick up game off…

The Judge: Psft! Shitty friend?!?! You’re being a cock block dude! I’m going to trump you calling me a shitty friend by calling YOU on being a shitty friend IN ADDITION to being a cock block. Game’s on dude.

Fabio: Yeah, game’s on is right. WATCH THIS…(prances over to HB9Russian)

This scene is as comical as it sounds. He literally said “WATCH THIS” like he was going to roll up on HB9Russian and have her panties wet before I could even process what was happening. I simply chuckled, reopened HB7Dumpy, got her cracking up at everything I was saying, and, within 5 minutes, both Fabio and HB9Russian were leaning into our conversation awkwardly as Fabio obviously just blew himself out.

At this point, Fabio suggested we all go to another bar (little did I know he was suggesting this to read me the fucking riot act outside) which, on the way there, he tried to tell me he’d “already fucked HB9Russian and it’d be weird if I started banging his sloppy seconds.” I simply laughed and gave him the thumbs up, knowing I’d at least number close HB9Russian at the next bar.

And, sure enough, that’s what I did.

Aye, I wanted to include the epic story of the first night I met Ga’ash and we accidentally picked up high school girls (and I almost took one home with me!) and some other notable adventures (i.e. the night Ga’ash, Theory, Prada, Affection and I absolutely DOMINATED the Guggenheim and posted a record number of #-closes) but it’s late and I feel better now having written out all these exploits…

Of course, after reading this, you have to understand these are my BEST nights out. There have been countless nights where I got blown out of every set or even some nights where my AA got the best of me and I opened NO ONE. I always feel bad when someone who’s “heard about me” comes out and I don’t perform. I hope if anything, reading about my path toward PUA-dom – from my birthday to this moment now, where I’m sitting my apartment typing in my PUA gear at 11p.m. because I’m still on too much of a downer to sarge because some crazy bitch can’t make up her mind – inspires guys that average guys can pick up supermodels and Miss USA pageant women. The only 2 things I’ve noticed that makes me any different is 1.) I have a completely unfounded, illogical belief that I deserve the most beautiful women I see (this even goes back to when I was a fat kid in grammar school…I have no idea where this belief comes from but I literally will always try for the hottest girl in a group because it’s my nature…) and 2.) I’m willing to look like an asshole and take absurd risks (sometimes) if it’ll help my game.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I look forward to writing the rest of my PUA history (as it unfolds) in the days, weeks, and months to come. I hope you guys write your histories here, too.

~The Judge