To begin, some very decent field report reading music. The thought has crossed my mind that I’m probably not meant to be hooking up with the most attractive woman. That is, as a 25 year old guy with virtually no money, connections or status, I’m paddling up-river. For a smoking hot 22 year old woman at her absolute prime to choose me over a 35 year old pulling down $250,000k a year living in Soho, it’s a stretch. I use this reasoning to tell myself that it’s natural to not be crushing it right now, there’s not something inherently wrong with me.
I have another theory. Getting good at game equates to getting emotionally fucked so many times that you become immune to it. You learn to take complete control of your emotions, versus being at their whim. Fear is an emotion. Most guys are controlled by the fear of speaking to a woman, they lack control. However, I wasn’t emotionally fucked by that fear tonight, it was other things.
My wingman who I most enjoy going out with came into the bar tonight and introduced me to a guy from out of town. He said they’re going to get a place together. This hurt because I like my wingman a lot and in the past I’ve expressed interest in living with him. So when he said that, I felt crummy. OK, deal with it.
Forty-five minutes later I chase a girl down on the street and open her. Initially it goes surprisingly well. She lives a few blocks away, I’m already seeing the potential to go home with her. She’s that level of pretty where I can just, just keep my shit together without getting into my head. We walk and talk, then we get to CVS. Earlier she said we should go shopping together. Now, she turns to me and says,
“Well nice speaking, got to go!”
And she runs into the store. Emotions of bewilderment, confusion, touch of anger, touch of humiliation. It seemed like this was a good thing we had going and then she ripped the carpet out from under me and I felt crummy again. Am I making myself sound like a whiny bitch by writing about these things? That’s not my intention. I could just write bullshit like,
Pimping it bro! Did so many approaches tonight dude! Did you see that hot girl look at me man!
But I’m expressing these things to show that game can hurt. However, I believe that by ripping off these bandaids now I’ll gain great emotional control in the future. Also, if / when I get very good at this, I think it will also be interesting for guys to read these reports and see the progression and that it’s not all smooth sailing. Game is a predominantly emotional skill. It will punish you over and over until you let go of all expectations and outcome dependence. It seems likely that the day I start hooking up with stunning women is the day I care so god damn little that it has no effect on me whether she stays or goes. An interesting paradox.
Also, it’s worth noting that when I fail to succeed my brain’s natural inclination is to go towards self-pity. Poor you, you have it so hard. I fight this bullshit with every ounce of mental power I have. I think that self-pity is one of the most pathetic, useless things in the world. It’s pure mental laziness. Any Rand has a great quote about pity,
“This is pity,” he [Howard Roark] thought, and then he lifted his head in wonder. He thought that there must be something terribly wrong with a world in which this monstrous feeling is called a virtue.”
Anyways. Although I did get emotionally fucked, it was still a productive night. Let’s have a look.
Maybe I talked to 15 girls, I don’t think 20. At one point I stood in one spot close to the door and opened five girls in a row as they walked past. This had about a 0% success rate in keeping girls for more than 15 seconds. It seems to fail not even because of lack of game, but just the simple fact that girls going past are trying to get somewhere.
Spoke to her for about 10 minutes, solid conversation. She was cute, flirty, touching me back. Her friends kept staring at me but they never tried to pull her away. In the end I elected to get her number. This was almost definitely the wrong move. If I really wanted success I should have stuck with her until I pulled or I absolutely couldn’t push the interaction any further. By bailing in the middle of our conversation I basically fucked things.
*Worth noting, the reason I left Ashley is that my wingman showed up. This is a recurring theme in game. I’ll get to the venue first, open a few sets, one starts to go really well, then my wingman shows up. I enjoy him, I want to speak to him, and I usually choose to leave the girl to chill with my buddy. I’ve probably lost a pull or two from leaving these sets early, but I figure that if a guy takes the time to come out and meet up with me, I want to hang out with him.
Approached her and she had saucer eyes. Average attractive level, nothing special, so my brain allows me to be my normally awesome self. I throw a bunch of stuff at her and she tells me that I’m too confident. I say,
“Impossible. It’s a guy’s job to be as confident as possible. If he gets called cocky, that’s a compliment.”
By 5 minutes deep I’ve gone for the makeout 3 times but she keeps turning her head. I pull her outside the bar and try to make out 2 more times, no go. Her friend calls, we go inside to find her. I tell them about a bar around the corner, say we should go. They say no and that they’re tired. I suggest,
“I’ll walk you guys home”
And I start to drag Casie out. But it doesn’t go over the way I hoped and the friend says no thanks, they’ll take an Uber. Then she pulls Casie to the bathroom. Big lesson here is that I was very permission seeking in my leading. Instead of being strong and decisive, I was weak and wishy-washy. Next time I do this I’ll smile, say “let’s go” and start leading. I’m about 80% sure I lost this set because I didn’t lead hard enough and with enough conviction. It was borderline that I walked her home, took her to her room and fucked her.