Post-Surgery Game (PSG) is of a kind with Drunk Game, but riskier as well as potentially more rewarding (if for no other reason than that outpatient quasi-sober sex is generally more erotic than 2AM fully-drunk sex).
Without revealing too many identifying details of the where, how, and why, I had a surgery which required general anesthesia. It was for a non-life threatening issue, and the problem was handily resolved. The Heartistian angle here is what happened in that magical moment between unconsciousness and bland lucidity.
As I confidently strode, or rather, gracelessly loped, out of the bonewhite-walled abattoir, my psyche swirled with the elation of renewed life. I felt good, better than usual, and largely this was a mood lifted by the lingering effects of the anesthesia. My footing was still a little unsure and my brain foggy as I stepped outside under glaring sunlight (released without a promise that a citizen soldier would retrieve me; apparently the doc thought I was able-bodied enough to journey unassisted).
The drugs had another side effect besides general loopiness; they asymmetrically sapped me of my strength, creating the impression of a frankenstein in better control of some extremities than of others.
Naturally, in this condition I just had to talk to a random cutie. It is required. So I did. I grinned, lopsidedly. She cocked her head like a puzzled dog. “Hi.” “Hi?” She may have been scared by my odd sway, thinking I was under the influence of bath salts.
“I just had surgery.” That was my line, and I don’t regret it.
“Oh, ok. That’s not good.”
“Nope. But I’m so happy it’s over I had to share my joy with someone.”
She smiles. Phew!, I think, that could’ve gone either way.
“I hope you feel better.”
The polite indifference of a gentle blowoff? Nah, if I thought every noncommittal thing a girl said to me was a blowoff, I’d be a beta with a bad case of incel.
“I hope so too. Hey, one question…”
“What?”
Tingle-coaxing pause.
“Want to join me for a glass of milk this evening?”
“Uhh, milk?”
“I can’t drink. Doctor’s orders.”
“You’re really milking this thing, aren’t you?”
“Funny!” I meant it. A sassy girl warms my heart.
We didn’t have a milk that evening, but I did see her a few days later for a non-dairy libation.
The “teachable moment” of this vagnette is the power of male confidence over female coyness. Even if that confidence is evoked by a post-surgery high. Whatever it takes. Boldness, whether free-form or induced by an anesthesia-hazed ZFG, can overcome a loping gait and twitchy muscle control. Post-Surgery Game is better than Drunk Game because your incapacitation is not quite so obvious, and you’re in better command of your wits.
(Later, the girl admitted she noticed I was “walking funny” and she thought about getting a hold of her pepper spray in her handbag. But she said she relaxed when I mentioned the milk thing. She also said that line was “stupid funny” but that’s the kind of deprecating stuff girls always say after-the-fact when they’re free to rationalize their sexual curiosity.)
[…] By CH […]
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Just talk around the whole “yeah I had a camera up my ass and the anesthetist mocked me when I was unconscious” thing…
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Come over to my place and we’ll watch the replay.
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threadwinner. also just gave me my next opener.
steal ’em while they’re hot rape!
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you can always offer them some percs for later…chicks love to get high
I had a tinder meet up tonight with a chick, had her naked in my car after about an hour, give or take, and then she flaked the fuck and ran.
Apparently had too many one night stands or something. This was a girl who sexualized the convo, mentioned that she was concerned that she hadn’t shaved her chacha for the date, and is the one who suggested we go somewhere more private. Got into the backseat and even assisted in the removal of her pants totally from her body.
I almost believe that rape in that situation is warranted. I mean, I understand ASD and all that but don’t wait until your clothes are all off…c’mon. Dumbass.
Maybe I should have selected a more secluded area, oh well…next.
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lol at lmr
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Adopt me. Master.
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[…] Post-Surgery Game […]
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So CH gamed the girl and the doctor. I’ve never gotten out of post-op without having another adult come in and accompany me out. Heaven forbid a law suit. You’re good CH.
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> “You’re really milking this thing, aren’t you?” ——— I’d keep an eye on this one. She might just need WHYTE BUNZ -> WHYTE OVEN…
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Cap, I’m gonna call you the Whyte Babies Fertility Doc 🙂
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V, the one time I underwent general anesthesia, my girlfriend at the time came to see me in the recovery room, and apparently I was pretty cruel to her. LOL’ed.
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Lol Cap, that happened to my friend actually. Her husband had some procedure done. She went in to get him in recovery and he threw her out. He jokes now that he was fully alert when he did that.
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It also happened to Walter White…
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A great corollary to surgery game is cast game. A very easy cold approach to any gal wearing a cast is to inform them that one advantage to suffering that cast is that they are allowed to lie shamelessly about how they were injured.
Tell them they can make up a very romantic adventure story about how they were hurt. Always has sparked smiles and convo.
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It’s similar to the old line about alcohol:
“It don’t make you do anything, it just lets you.”
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Ted Bundy game.
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CH- I had an emergency surgery ( the endoscopy department was closed after hours so they had to do it in the OR) about a year ago. When I came out of anesthesia in Recovery I immediately started flirting with my wife about her tits (She has great ones). She was embarrassed as there were many people around, but it turned her on. General anesthesia must make one horny because I was woozy but just wanted to nail her when I woke up. Strangely enough, the only other time I had surgery under general anesthesia, in the military 25 years prior, I was flirting mad with the hot female aesthetician.
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Put this as a reply to the wrong comment above, it was meant for here:
It’s similar to the old line about alcohol:
“It don’t make you do anything, it just lets you.”
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Whorefinder is high on himself all the time. Therefore, every day is post-surgery game for the master of the non-consensual.
Massive ego rape!
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As a 19 y/o college kid I had my wisdom teeth pulled under general. On the drive home my Mom starts reaming me out for telling the recovery room nurse I wanted to bang her. Good shit.
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Is this Strapon? Mom ‘reaming” you out?
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Funny this should come up now. I’ve been intending to post an anecdote about an orthopedic procedure I had a few weeks ago. Just pulled the lines straight out of something I remember from the archives (big h/t to whoever the original poster was).
While still on crutches I went out to my regular steak-house at a time I knew favored waitress would be working. Wound up with a new girl as my actual server, but the other girl saw me come in and soon she came over, sat down across from me in the booth and asked me what had happened.
“My doctor has been after me to do this for years.” Long pause.
“Do what?”
“Penis reduction surgery.”
The initial confusion, the blushing, the laughing were wonderful to behold. But this one is sharp. She caught my little reformed beta tell. “You’re turning red,” she said.
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem. Too much blood flow to the extremities. Doc was worried I’d start fainting.”
It never came up, but if it had, I was prepared, again by the original poster here on CH. If she’d asked, “how does penis reduction make you need crutches?” I’d have said, “surgeon cut my knee on the way in.”
From that point on, the new girl, who’d been cool, warmed up twenty degrees.
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hehehe
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Hey Sentient – I’ve had some time on my hands post-op. Wrote up your Venti Vagucino episode as a short fictional vagnette, made up some names, elaborated the setting and convo a little, etc. Maybe insert it – heh – in something more extensive someday. Needs attribution and approval though – you got a website or some other way to receive it?
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Sean – do whatever you wish with it. LOL I make no claim. Print this out if you wish.
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Thanks. Your FR reminded me a little of Hemingway’s Homage to Switzerland, except the guy there didn’t actually like women and used very blunt Game, strictly for kicks. The one similarity was that he could take or leave the girl, which always leaves them wanting. So I threw in a covert Homage to Homage to Switzerland at the end.
Interesting that real-life Game is considerably more sophisticated than what a Nobel winner writes of.
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Had some serious serious surgery on cancer in the brain some years ago. Helped me to not give a shit about stuff, but in a good way. I’m probably doing a shitty job explaining, so I’m going to STFU. But I’ll leave you with this: Some very attractive babes at MSKCC.
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That’s oncology above; I think these are the new grads:
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there’s some hidden magic in this type of game and that is it hints at vulnerability. it’s easy to over-estimate how confident cute young girls are. yeah they’re crazy confident on the surface but they’re highly aware of their flaws and get pretty intimidated by a guy who displays well. they’re used to being the ones doing the picking and choosing, and often shut down or evade by default in the presence of an unapologetically swinging dick
so when a stud walks up but has some defect like a limp or a cast it makes him more relatable. I learned this by accident. I was always coming in cocky and overpowering but i had to work hard to set girls at ease and hoodwink them into thinking i was a decent guy. then one day i was sick out of my mind, really wrecked with some flu virus, and I opened this hottie without trying hard, just being my tired weak self that day and she was like butter in my hands.
so after that the light went off in my head and I realized how easy it is to over-game girls. if they feel like your a little vulnerable, even if it’s just snake oil, your path to her panties will be more…. “lubricated”
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Great observation.
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The big problem with vulnerability is that you’re ditching the Dark Triad and becoming more human which is gonna make her much more likely to develop feelings for you. If you’ve got a conscience, then tread lightly here…
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you can have feelings for a girl without signing up for her biological imperative to lock you down and procreate. you just have to have STRONGER feelings for yourself, and hold your frame when she presses you for the moon and stars
contrary to conventional game wisdom, I’ve had better success being kind and fair to girls (not overly kind) than just being a narcissist jerk. their need to feel safe opening their legs to you is just as valid as your need to give her a facial
look… why do all that work gaming her just to hit it for 2-3 months? I have girls that I have been handling my booty for 5, 10, 15 years. you don’t get that kind of employee retention if you’re ALL jerk ALL the time. being (a bit) human is simply good policy
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handling my booty *calls*
damn phone
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> “girls that have been handling my booty calls for 5, 10, 15 years” ——— And have you rewarded them with WHYTE BUNZ -> WHYTE OVENZ? Cause stealing the best years of their fertility, and not rewarding them with chillunz sired by your seed, is possibly the most evil thing you can do in this life [short of actually murd3ring someone].
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CH: I would say “vagnette” is the word you are most proud of. The one that made you laugh. Good writing.
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CH, I love you but can’t let you off the hook just yet.
Your line of “Funny!” is disarming, but doesn’t its self have a hook for continuing the conversation. How did you drink-close?
I’m over here wondering how your loop-looking playful state translated into a date. That’s a tough row to hoe because even a beta can be confident when chemically reinforced. Girls know this. They deal with the drunk betas all the time. You off all men should know that the “Funny!” line is the ultimate cliff-hanger in this exchange. Even more than the previous line.
We need more details for this to be a rare but highly instructive object lesson to the students at the Chateau.
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Yes, but drunk betas are still betas spouting out nonsense that nobody cares about. Booze just makes them announce their betatude to the world.
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General anesthesia is scary on a special level. However unlikely a bad outcome is in fact, everybody who is “going under” realizes that this form of “loss of control” is potentially unlimited.
So, when you realize that nothing bad happened — because you did not wake up dead — what do you say? You say the same things that you would say after stopping a charging lion or rampaging elephant. Your brain thinks, “I lived!!!” but the words come out as “Fuck me!!!!” and its several variations.
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You are a wise man, Rum.
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1. There’s a a saying: anesthesiologists say, “I’m Dr. So-and-so. I’ll be looking after you while you’re asleep.” It ought to be “I’ll be keeping you alive while you’re asleep.” Things seldom go wrong but when they do, it’s very clear that anesthesia ain’t ‘sleep.’
2. It’s possible to be paralyzed but conscious if certain steps are forgotten. In other words, you feel all the pain and have no way to communicate that you’re not actually asleep. Rare but not unknown.
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Depends which one you choose. If you pick the one where you’re sedated, but not truly in narcosis, you can suffer from pain while paralyzed. OTOH, true narcosis is more likely to result in you not waking up.
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http://freedompowerandwealth.com
A great example of dealing with women.
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I know you won’t tell what it is, but I’ll just mention the first few surgeries that came to my mind based on your description.
1. eye surgery
2. dental surgery
3. colon polyps whatever
4. orthopedic surgery (think knees)
Speedy recovery, m8.
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Merry Christmas everybody! Even (((Whiskey)))
Trump/Garrison 2016 – Make America Great Again!
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I’m hoping GBFM is along soon with a parody of this post. Shit would be lzoozlozlozlozlo.
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He is due to drop some patented GBFM knowledge
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Hospital game. Who knew? If I ever go to a hospital, I’ll consider it.
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CH, your low-T is showing!
JK. Well played. I pulled a similar stunt when they rolled me out of my vasectomy… girl techs though that taking selfies with my one in a million specimen was funny as hell 😉
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She: “How did you get that wrist injury?”
Me: “I tried to pee one-handed.”
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I have a testicular cancer surgery a few years back and naturally I flirted big time with a very very cute blond and blue-eyed new doctor (barely 22) on my team in the prep room. It didn’t go anywhere but I said to her, “No peeking!” I didn’t see her again after I woke at 1am. Oh, well, NEXT. I still work out and, after seeing the losers, I know I have a bigger ball than most guys with a pair.
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