The last forty-eight hours have been nuts. I haven’t written any field reports because I literally haven’t had time. It’s been work, game, sleep, travel to different cities, game, sleep, work, and repeat. It’s Saturday evening now and this all started two days ago.
He comes over and tells me a story about how he pulled a blonde model from my favorite club. The story is 45 minutes long and it’s a testament to what real game is. He took more action, did more leading, and kept more of a masculine frame than 98% of guys will ever conceive of. At one point he says this “The issue keeps coming up that she has to meet her parents at the airport in the morning. This is a problem that cannot be solved by man. There’s nothing anyone can do. Thankfully, I’m god and I can do anything.” If you heard the story you’d be ready to believe he is god.
After he recounts that tale we take the Subway to get dinner at midnight. We do subway sets. We open in the Pita place and on the subway to meatpacking. We open on the street, walking to the club, even though it’s 20 degrees outside. Denied by the door guy so we go to a bar. Inside I open one girl but she’s cute and I blow myself out. I open another group and end up talking to the least attractive female for almost half an hour. This is a bit of a trend. I’m becoming increasingly good at getting sixes to like me. Two nights ago I had a girl begging me to come to her room and check out her sheets. At the bar this girl was escalating on me and trying so hard to get me. It’s obviously not ideal, I want to attract better women, but it is a start. It’s also a start of me seeing a way to get way more consistent makeouts. I made out with a girl on Tuesday, on Wednesday that girl sneakily kissed me, on Thursday the girl wanted me to kiss her but I chose not to.
Anyways, the set ends and I grab my girl’s number. He pulls a cute blonde out of the bar but she refuses to leave her friends. It’s 3:30am. The night is young. We take the L train all the way out to some underground after-hours spot in Bushwick. We either got the wrong address or it’s closed because there’s noone there. Time for sleep.
Wake up, shower, catch a bus to Washington D.C. to go see one of the more renowned PUAs give a talk. It’s excellent. Take an Uber and go out to the bar zone in Washington. My wingman opens a set and the girls tell us to fuck off. But we ignore it and keep talking for another five minutes. Excellent job of being persistent. I was holding a solid frame and not letting myself be affected by their shit.
I have to physically force my wingman into a set. He really doesn’t want to do it but he knows he should. If you’re reading this and approach anxiety is a problem for you, the only solution is to approach. Don’t believe any magic-pill bullshit or meditation or anything. You can meditate till your the goddamn Buddha and you’ll still have approach anxiety. Find a wing who will push you and go out and do it. If you have to have a beer or two to approach on the worst nights, that’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up but absolutely don’t let it become a regular crutch either. If you approach consistently for about six months you’ll reach a point where it’s normal and not a big deal. However, for my wing it’s still a big deal and I had to force him in there. And of course the people were really nice. Approach anxiety is so fucking illogical.
I talk to a cute Spanish lady for a while but it slowly dies out. I try to get her up off the bar stool to dance with me but she doesn’t want to. She’s into me though. So In the future what I would do is wait way, way less time to get her standing. I wouldn’t ask her to dance, I would say stand up so we can compare heights. Once she’s up I don’t give a fuck about comparing heights. I spin her, dance a bit, lead to another area and go for the makeout. The key is getting her up. Don’t wait ten minutes like I did because then the conversation might be stale and she won’t want to obey when I tell her to stand up.
Go to a new venue. Blowout. Blowout. Open a three set and boom, I can tell within 3 seconds it’s on with a girl. I immediately focus on her and ignore the other girls. We talk for five minutes and then I lead. I’m thrilled with that. I’m getting way better at leading! We lean against a wall, talk, and when I lean in for the makeout she’s on me just like that. Making out hardcore. I’m not really happy with what I do next though. We’re making out and she’s really into me, but I sort of let everything die down. I stop leading. The set sort of fizzles and I feel off. She leads me to the bar so she can get more champagne. We find her friends and we all sort of stand there. Fuck this! I grab her hand and lead. I get her making out again, I get physical on her, and I lead straight to the bathroom. Unfortunately it’s a terrible pulling bathroom. We can see lots of girls in the bathroom and she won’t go in. I’ve never been to this club in my life so I didn’t know it was bad. I took a risk. If I had known I would have acted different. Regardless I’m thrilled that I pushed hard for the bathroom pull because I was nervous as fuck to do it. My brain was screaming NO NO NO! But I know that getting better is 100% dependent on doing scary things. So yeah. She has to go back to some other city and I take her outside, we kiss goodbye and that’s that. I should have gotten her Facebook but at the moment I didn’t really care.
Inside it’s nuts. Open, blowout. Open, blowout. Open, blowout. One thing I’ve noticed is that this doesn’t really affect my mood so much. I used to get into a shit state if I got a few blowouts. Consciously I knew it didn’t matter, but unconsciously I just crashed. Now I can brush off three blowouts and not even realize they happened. The next day if you asked me if I was blown out I’ll say no because I don’t even remember these. The only thing I remember is some girls failing to appreciate how fucking awesome I am. We do find a set eventually though and I correctly guess my girl is a lawyer. I’m getting awfully good at the guessing game. It lasts ten minutes before she bounces. We head to lower elevations.
Downstairs me and my wingman are psyched to see the same guy who just gave the seminar. Arguably one of the top 3 most well known PUAs in the world and he’s running a bootcamp in the bar with us. It’s a cool feeling. When my wingman points him out to me I’m like “Quick, take action!” So we do. Open a bunch. I end up talking to some guy and winging for him. It’s my girl’s 21st birthday and I lead her all around. Trying hard to get the makeout. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten two makeouts in one night. Actually…. Two hours earlier I opened a six set that was a bachlorette party. I correctly guessed the bride and we kissed on the lips. So that sort of, kind of counts.
Anyways, this girl won’t make out with me even though I’m running very good game. Again, I lead her and I’m thrilled with that. I even bring her over to the guy, say “I loved the talk, thanks so much for it!” And shake his hand. That was neat. It’s cool to meet someone in person who you only know from YouTube. He gives a fist bump to my girl. I feel like a boss.
But that was it. I had to leave so I could get an Uber back to the bus station to get back to NYC to get 4 hours of sleep before going to work. All in all it was a fucking intense 48 hours and I grew significantly in game. I feel more solid. I feel more confident. I feel fucking amazing. I just got out of work and my female friend is coming over in an hour. We might drink some wine and hook up. Or we might just watch a movie and not hook up. I almost completely don’t care either way. I would grow 0% as a person whether I stick my dick in her or not. However, these last 48 hours of going out hard in the field and doing scary things, those have helped me grow so, so much.