Jealousy

Damian and I were out with a mixed group. One of the girls got very drunk on martinis (fast action truth serum) and pulled Damian aside for what I thought was the beginning of making beautiful music together. Later that night, Damian announced he was going home alone, and the rest of us were left with the job of escorting the drunk girl back to her urban single woman’s hovel, distinguished as they all are by mass quantities of pillows, toiletries, and shoes. Along the way, she mumbled “I just want to get laid before leaving town. How hard is it for a girl to get laid in this town?! By the way, what’s wrong with Damian?”

I though maybe Damian’s same night lay attempt had gone awry, that perhaps his game had gotten rusty, but no that wasn’t it. This girl was primed for his pistola, all he needed to do was say “I’ll take you home” and victory was his, and yet he beat a hasty retreat. She wasn’t bad looking, she had a nice ass, and she was leaving town for good in a couple of weeks. Christ, it’s like handing the pussy over on a platter, and garnishing it with an industrial-sized bottle of KY.

The next morning, I called Damian for an explanation as to why he violated the foremost single man’s honor-bound duty —

Never look a gift pussy in the labia.

— and he gave me his reason.

ME: What were you thinking? That was yours for the taking.

DAMIAN: First of all, I wasn’t attracted to her.

ME: Dude, she wasn’t bad looking. Definitely within your historical sphere of acceptability. She had a nice ass.

DAMIAN: I’m dating two other women, I’ve got nothing to prove. Plus, she was drunk, yapping like a chihuahua, and saying weird annoying shit.

ME: Like what?

DAMIAN: She found out through your girl that I’m going on a date with that Chinese girl XXXX. Then she started freaking out. [Imitating whiny nasally Jewish woman voice] “Whyyy? Why are you going out with an Asian girl? Is it because Asian girls are submissive? Do you want a submissive woman?”

ME: Wow. Awkward.

DAMIAN: Yeah, it was a turn-off. She kept it up for a while. Demanding explanations why I was interested in an Asian girl. I just wanted to get away.

ME: Her inner demons came streaming out. Must’ve been the martinis. Still, you could’ve just put cotton in your ears and gotten the bang. There’s a larger principle at stake.

DAMIAN: There’s a larger principle all right — getting a good, quiet night’s sleep!

***

Yet another amusing, and cringingly awful, DC dating escapade. The great thing about multiple martinis is that it’s one of the few elixirs that is capable of aligning a girl’s actual thoughts with the words coming out of her mouth. Never listen to what a girl says… unless she’s sucking down her ninth dirty olive.

It’s now my belief that most white women harbor a deep distrust, even jealousy, for Asian women. They see the Asian girl, like they see foreign women fresh off the boat, as competitors for the white men they have come to expect will bow and scrape before their precious white American vaginas. This jealousy contrasts sharply with the indifference they feel towards black and latino women taking their white men. The Asian woman occupies a special place in the mind of white women — with her neotenous features, softer skin, natural slenderness, and purported submissiveness the Asian girl comes armed with a fully operational arsenal of femininity that can bust through the deepest white woman’s bunker. And while most Asian girls who cross the racial Rubicon wind up with big galoot white herbs (see: Hope) or squishy pudding pop betas who look like Conor Friedersdorf, the impact on the white woman’s psyche is nearly the same as if the Asian women were taking all the alpha white men; namely, they sense their bargaining power in the sexual market is being undercut by a worthy foe.

Speculative stroll: The martini girl in this story was Jewish. Does the fact that Asian women possess intellectual firepower and educational attainment almost the equal of Jewish women cause the latter to feel particularly antagonistic toward them? You be the judge.

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What Foreign Men Think Of American Women

American woman
stay away from me
American woman
mama let me be…

It’s not looking good for the American woman. Her reputation is taking a beating from all corners of the world. This Seattle Time article has some juicy quotes from British ex-pats living in the U.S. describing their experiences dating American women.

American Women. You can only spend so long with one before you crack. They’re out there, they’re loud, they’re bitter and they’re kooky. After a while all the things that attracted you to them: confidence, conversation, nice teeth, begin to bug you. You think you’ve got Black Beauty and you end up with Mr. Ed.

Confidence in a woman is overrated. I’m with Roosh on this matter — less confident women are more fun to date and make better girlfriends.

Steve (a Brit) says that he had to get used to knowing that American women reserve the right to date a whole bunch of guys at the same time. It’s not like that in England. There, when you really like a girl (and pardon me, but English guys don’t say “women,” they talk about dating a girl), then you don’t go out with half a dozen others.

I once stumbled across the email inbox of a slutty DC girl I used to fuck (a local blogger). She had forgotten to log out of her email and chat on my computer on more than one occasion. (She wasn’t too bright.) I read her messages and chat windows (who wouldn’t?) and discovered she was hooking up with other men on the days she wasn’t taking my cock deep inside her. If only they had known how unspecial they were to her at the time; just another cock on the carousel. She wasn’t a serious prospect so it never bothered me, but it was an illuminating glimpse into the world of the Tacky American Slut.

[Steve]: And something else. That first date with an American girl, it’s like it’s supposed to be a big-time dinner, instead of just going to a pub with friends. So you end up dropping like $90 while she’s doing her checklist.

Fool. Who in this day and age takes a girl to dinner on the first date? And an American woman to boot? I’ll tell you who. Betas.

Even other American women don’t have nice things to say about their sister compatriots:

I talk to Vicki, and she tells me she thinks American women can come across as a bit too much. “They want to be equal so much it can be overpowering,” she says.

Actually, I don’t think American women want to be equal. That’s just what they tell themselves to rationalize their aggressively masculine posturing toward men. More accurately, of all the world’s women, American women are the biggest shit testers because they so very much DON’T want to be equal to the supplicating American betaboys they date. A desire by American women to shit test men to kingdom come to find the alpha gem among the beta shale is often miscontrued by men as a desire for equal footing with them. The truth is, in fact, just the opposite. They shit test because they want to find a man who puts himself on a footing above her. This is why even the most hardcore self-professed feminists will wilt into a puddle of submissive passion for a devil-may-care alpha male who doesn’t take her oh-so-profound ideology or her empty bleatings for equality seriously.

One of the first questions is always: “What car do I drive?” Martin says. “If I have the latest BMW or drive a Chevy, does it make a difference? And they want to know what apartment you live in. Do you live in Bellevue, because if you tell them you live in Everett, they don’t want to know you.”

If you have no game or looks, the women you date will default to “material status” screening. Women must have *something* with which they can judge a man’s alpha status, so barring anything compensatory they will judge a man based on the crudest indicators of status — his material resources. Game and other forms of psychosocial dominance allow women the freedom — even the pleasure — to judge a man on indicators of status other than his monetary worth. This is because male psychological dominance hits women’s pleasure centers more directly than does male resource display. Unless you are very wealthy — top 1/2% of all men — you will do better at attracting women with game. See: Skittles Man.

[Oliver]: It was like being with a nasty bank manager, rather than someone with whom you hope to sleep. … American girls are possibly the most wound-up people on the planet. They don’t believe in laughing: Instead, they would go to ‘laugh class’ to find out how, then solemnly say it had changed their life.

“Nasty bank manager”. Ha haa! This quote sums up the American woman well. American women are bank managers and pompous, phony laughers who take themselves too seriously because America has spoiled them. American men need to relearn the art of charming condescension.

While I date and fuck mostly American women, if I was limited to only one woman for the rest of my life, I would choose a foreign girl. Once you have experienced the pleasure of a truly feminine woman, you’ll never go back to an American Bitch.

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A Test Of Your Game: The Judging

Here is how I responded (or would respond) to the game challenges I posed in Tuesday’s post.

Part A

“You’re ten minutes late.”

“I don’t *feel* tardy.”

She doesn’t laugh. “Are you always late for dates?”

You pause. She’s reacting to your lack of punctuality worse than most women.

What do you do?

I stared at her for an uncomfortable two seconds, mentally wrote her off as a date-worthy prospect, and said “The problem is that you came right on time. No DC girl does that.” This reply seemed to mollify the bitch in her. Thinking back, the emphasis I gave to the words *RIGHT ON TIME* implied that she was more invested in the date than I was. I believe this caused a subtle shift in power to my benefit.

Best reader answers

el chief and his classic Asshole game (although I’d just use his second line):

Look around like Stevie Wonder, and say in a German accent: “Mother is that you? I’m sorry mother. I von’t be bad again.” Then laugh. Then order a beer.

If she presses say “Gimme a fuckin break. I thought you said you were fun and easygoing?”

Another version of Asshole game is One Word Game. One commenter suggested answering her pointed question like this: “Maybe.” Short, sweet, leaves ’em wanting more of your dominance.

I think One Word Game will be the next big thing in pickup science. It is my contribution to expanding the oeuvre. Look at the pros and cons. Pros: It’s mysterious, requires little memorization, saves you from paralysis by analysis, doesn’t smack of try-hard, gets you into her head, and captures the essence of ambiguity that so tempts the typical woman to fantasize scenarios involving your penis in her vagina. Cons: Can be misconstrued.

roosh’s genuine but uncompromising Superior Man game:

“If you’re in a bad mood we can reschedule the date no problem.” Definitely no smirk or smiles. Laser eye contact. If she leaves then you just saved yourself a couple hours of hell.

Brad demonstrates the power of Turn-The-Tables game:

I smile, stare at her right in the eye, HOLD… HOLD… and then say: “You missed me that much, huh? Well, I guess I can understand that..”

Firepower drops funnyman game:

“chill, baby – I’m only late when I’m pulling babies from burning buildings…and, maybe for girls I like.”

I’d dispense with the second half of his response. Similarly, I think a funny answer that could work would be: “Yeah, it was a rush for me to get here, but I had to take my sick mother to the doctor and feed orphaned babies, and I figured you’d be understanding about that. Like, WOW, I’d hate to meet a girl who was against sick mothers and orphaned babies!”

Fenton offered an example of witty game that works (i.e. note the succinctness):

“Well, you’ve been waiting four days, what’s ten more minutes?”

Most of the rest of you gave answers that were too nasty, too defensive, or too clever by half. Your goal isn’t to piss the girl off, nor is it to impress her with your Shakespearean wit. She isn’t worth your effort, yet, right?

To the commenter who wrote that the best reply is the Cary Grant “Big Face” push followed by draining her drink while signaling the waitress to come over for another order, I commend you sir. If anything will set America back on the path of world-bestriding hyperpuissance, it will be the big face.

Cuntrag, as usual, gave the opposite answer of what you should do.

Part B

Your date mentions she reads local DC blogs and likes most of them, and you wonder about bringing up your fandom […]

There is only one acceptable response to this situation. You steal my ideas to use as conversational fodder without mentioning you read me. I am such a fucking humanitarian.

Part C

Same as above, except this time, before you have decided whether to announce your everlasting platonic love, your date mentions she has read and hates him. […]

Your response should be the same as Part B. Don’t reveal you’re a reader, then change the subject. What are you, my eunuch servant who screens concubines for me? If she hates me, she’s masturbating to thoughts of me at night. Why boost my status even higher?

There is a catch in this particular situation. You have the option to play beta white knight to the hilt (see: Keith, Cliff Arroyo, DA, Jessica Valenti’s husband, any random urban liberal SWPL off the street) and say you have read as well and TOTALLY agree with her that he is a foul, bitter misogynist who probably doesn’t get laid and his ideas are all wrong, 1950s Ozzie and Harriet throwback shit and he uses women like a sperm receptacle. Then tell her how you feel privileged to have almost been aborted by your mother, and the biggest injustice in the world is that gay marriage isn’t yet accepted by Afghan goat herders. After you have massaged her ego, you slyly wonder aloud if maybe he is right about this or that subject and suddenly you are having a rollicking conversation with her and your hand is resting too high up her thigh.

I should bottle this magic.

Part D

You are me. You are on the date with the girl from the above story and have been talking with her about the book you are writing. She is intrigued. A little later in the date, she mentions she reads a lot of local blogs. She says there are some she reads that she really hates. You nod again. Then she asks you if you write a blog.

What do you say?

I lied.

She also mentions she ran a triathlon the day before.

Now what do you do?

Go big or go home. Same night lay or number deletion. Chicks who participate in triathlons are almost universally unfeminine. And by unfeminine, I don’t mean her looks, I mean her attitude. These kinds of women are at war with their femininity. It is the essence of yang polarity to take up personal challenges and compete against the limits of one’s endurance and pain threshold. This is what men do. When women do it, it’s unnatural, a big middle finger to the sex she was born as. While women like this can fuck like champs, they will invariably fall short in the areas that matter to men for long term relationships — generosity, nurturance, compassion, submissiveness, alluring coyness, and proper female deference.

I asked her if she was a tomboy growing up, then I ran the digit ratio routine on her. She had a masculine ratio. I told her that meant she was “ambitious”, which is a nice way to tidy up the word “bitch”. I am now going to craft an Andrew Sullivan-like neologism: Ambitchious!

Where’s my Atlantic Monthly paycheck?

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A Test Of Your Game

Pulled from the headlines! A four part installment.

You met a girl at a bar. (Where else are you gonna meet her, tiger? The church social?) She’s a six foot tall, 23-year-old statuesque brunette who would probably intimidate most men, but not you. You gab for twenty minutes and score the digits.

On your first date four days later you arrive at the swank Connecticut Ave lounge ten minutes late, as per your usual routine. Your date is already there, drinking a cocktail. A smile flashes across your face, as much for seeing her again as for the thought that you will not have to buy her a drink. You sit down and notice she is glowering, her legs crossed geometrically. You hope she’ll uncross in homage to Basic Instinct.

“You’re ten minutes late.”

“I don’t *feel* tardy.”

She doesn’t laugh. “Are you always late for dates?”

You pause. She’s reacting to your lack of punctuality worse than most women.

What do you do?

******

You are on the date with the Nordic Amazon from the above story. You are an avid reader and feel he has made your life immeasurably better, and at a cost of nothing! Which, in occasional misanthropic moments, rubs your hero raw. Your date mentions she reads local DC blogs and likes most of them, and you wonder about bringing up your fandom, thinking the wealth of topics about sex and social dynamics written by your Infallible Lord, Master, and Philosophical Heir to the Divine Right of Kings would provide much fodder for rapport building and sexual future pacing.

What do you do?

******

Same as above, except this time, before you have decided whether to announce your everlasting platonic love, your date mentions she has read him and hates him. You mull in the mind whether ’tis more opportunistic to admit fandom and suffer the slings and arrows of angry, yet energetically and erotically charged, conversation about inspired themes, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing or denying thricely Disciple Peter-like the ugly truths he tells the world end any chance of the date imploding in your face like an overmicrowaved burrito.

What do you do?

******

You are me. You are on the date with the girl from the above story and have been talking with her about the book you are writing. She is intrigued. A little later in the date, she mentions she reads a lot of local blogs. She says there are some she reads that she really hates. You nod again. Then she asks you if you write a blog.

What do you say?

She also mentions she ran a triathlon the day before.

Now what do you do?

Test begins… now.

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A Test Of Your Game: The Judging

The range of answers by the commenters to yesterday’s post about how to handle an inconsiderate woman you’ve been dating for six weeks when she flies out of town on a mystery trip and leaves you in the dark were wide and varied, enough for me to choose representative samples of the worst and the best.

Almost every commenter got the first part correct. Do nothing. If a girl says she will call you over the weekend but doesn’t, you’ll only make yourself look worse by trying to establish contact with her. Either she can’t use the phone, and your repeated texts and voicemails pile up like a monument to your betatude and embarrass you, or she has decided not to call you, and any move you make to get in touch will validate her negative impression of you. When she does call back you’ll have your opportunity to recapture the upper hand. If she doesn’t call back… well, then you know she boffed the ex and you can stop fretting about her.

The second part of the test was a lot trickier.

askjoe wrote:

Put on my three-wolf moon t-shirt and wait for her to start beating down my door.

Never doubt the power of the three wolf t-shirt.
Grade: Chuck Norris

Aenigma wrote:

Getting angry and calling out her BS shows that she has direct control over your emotions- never a position you want a manipulative woman to know she has. Additionally it shows that you’re not the aloof alpha- so its a no go.

Bringing it up or asking about it will show you care directly- also a no go.

Your best bet is to pretend nothing happened. You’re the aloof Alpha remember?

The concept of alpha aloofness can be stretched to extremes, where it becomes not just counterproductive to your pussy goals, but corrodes your dignity as a man. How much are you willing to brush off? Everything, as long as you “Go out and fuck ten other women”? This principle taken to its logical end would mean that EVERY TIME a girlfriend or date did something you didn’t like you would dump her forthwith and move on to the next girl. You think you can have a normal relationship with a girl completely free of her typical female bullshit? You are living in a fantasy land if you think that’s so. Women weren’t designed by the Lord of Biomechanics to make men happy. They were designed to make themselves happy. It’s our job as men to train women to please us. We do this by satisfying her need for a strong man, just as she satisfies our need for a thin, sexual, feminine playmate.

An alpha’s default mode should be amused mastery, in control of his emotions which remain torqued for retribution only when it advantages himself. But there is room in an alpha’s universe for uncontrolled blasts of passionate anger. Sometimes a girl wants to have her man piss on his territory.
Grade: B- for avoiding the worst beta temptations

Firepower wrote:

Thus, when fretting begins, it is a clear signal to use a man’s advantage: Game.

Go out hunting with the goal of acquiring new tail.

While on the call, wait for her to divulge her reasons. Hopefully, if she cares about the sudden damage she has caused to a budding relationship, she will be nervous in explaining her reason for traveling. If she clears the air satisfactorily – ok.

Regardless, I’d lay it out clearly that relationships are based upon trust and confidence. I’d state my expectations plainly. If she cannot abide – I am finished with her and will progress to the next female.

A solid answer. Six weeks is not enough time for a man to forfeit his prerogative to chase skirt up and down the city. Fretting will certainly gain him nothing. (Think about the kinds of people who fret. Gays and women. And lesser betas.) Don’t jump down her throat when she calls. Let her explain herself. The earnestness or circumspection with which a woman divulges her me-time will tell you a lot about how much she values your trust. If her story reeks of BS, dump her or demote her to fuckbuddy (without informing her of the demotion of course). The choice to dump or demote is highly dependent on her hotness and your options. If she gives a plausible reason and offers to come over right away to administer a black hole blowjob, then strategically drop the matter and wash the smegma off your junk. Later, when she thinks everything is copacetic, you may cooly inform her of your expectations for a relationship and your displeasure with her actions. The best time to lay down the hammer of hurt is when it’s least expected.
Grade: A

It’s My First Day wrote:

Don’t answer. Write her off. Go chase some new tail. If she really digs you, she’ll keep calling and eventually she will send you an email explaining herself. IF the email offers a decent explanation as to why she went MIA for 3 days and it is full of apologies, then you may consider taking her back. Otherwise, give her the heave-ho permanently.

A lot of commenters suggested the hardcore approach, like this one. Hey, if you’ve got a steady stream of progressively hotter chicks waiting expectantly, open-mouthed, for the blessing of your jizzbombs, then go ahead and be all the hardcore you wanna be. But what if she had a legitimate reason for her actions? What if you like the girl? Letting her Monday night call go to vmail is not a bad idea, maybe even preferable to picking up right away, but not calling back for days or waiting for her to send an apologetic email is unecessary overgaming on a girl who you have yet to hear out.
Grade: C

Schumpeter wrote:

I agree, it sounds like a shit test. Maybe there was a reason to take off, but not giving that reason up front is a shit test.

Maybe it was a shit test, maybe not. Given the information we have, we can’t make that determination with full confidence. If she was a one week fling, I’d say, yeah, assume the shit test and return to gaming her like the two-bit whore she is. But maybe she’s just an absent-minded numbskull? A lot of flaky, self-entitled urban girls are surprisingly obtuse in their grasp of social niceties. If she’s calling you, then that means you’re on her mind. Give her the opportunity to clear the air.
Grade: Incomplete

Days of Broken Arrows wrote:

I’m sure this is the wrong answer, but I would pick up the phone, listen, then call her on being weird: “Did someone die?” Then I would listen more. If the reasons for her departure were flaky bullshit I would do as follows:

I would put the relationship into second gear or on the back burner. When people behave like this early on, it doesn’t get better. It’s a sign of things to come.

Key word: weird. I will explain in my answer below.
Grade: A+

Paul wrote:

I am surprised how many people get so possessive and demanding so quickly in a relationship. Based on the scenario, this is just a fun relationship with a somewhat flakey girl that has zero LTR value. After dating such a girl for only six weeks you are already demanding that she account for all of her time?

This is a girl who has had your cock in every hole and your sperm sprayed all over her body. She has professed much affection for you. It is not an example of possessiveness to refuse her disrespect.
Grade: D for dodge

kam wrote:

if the grandmother died or the brother was hurt, she would have texted “grandma died” or “brother hurt”. the “i’ll call you with the explanation” means it’s not that simple, and probably emotional drama vs actual drama.

Grade: P for perceptiveness

Ari Hinkelberger wrote:

What a true Alpha would do is call her friend up… Tell her you don’t have much going on this weekend because the 6 week fling is out of town.

You then ask her friend if she wants to get a drink on Saturday night.

Her friend will want to get a drink with you if your girl is hot, because she considers you filet minon who only bangs hot chicks…

Since you are top shelf liquor who only bangs hot chicks and walks with an alpha limp, you go out with her friend on Saturday night – get her drunk – and fuck her on your couch…all the while your 6 week Wonder Women thinks she is playing you.

There is no way to nail a flaker to the wall harder then to bang her hot friend.

Then when your girl calls Monday night, you pick up the phone like an Alpha ask her how her weekend was. Tell her that you had GREAT active weekend and that you were sorry you didn’t call and check in.

Grade: A+++, just because

Lady Macbeth stayed true to form:

From a woman’s perspective I agree with Aenigma on the actual reaction. If you refuse to answer the call the first thing I’d think is: “uh oh drama queen needs to know every detail of my life or he’s gonna pout”

If your first reaction when he doesn’t answer the phone is to think he is pouting, then that means you did something cunty and you don’t like that he may be calling you out on it. If you had nothing to hide, you would just be a normal human being and assume he was busy when you rang.

So answer, act extremely cool and casual like you didn’t even realize there is something you SHOULD be angry about because the anger also proves to a woman that you care. (in my opinion).

Translation: Be a doormat. Let your woman disrespect you without fear of reprisal, because to refuse her this god-given right just shows you have not placed her on a high enough princess pedestal. See: Italian eunuch who cooks Cuntrag’s dinners and picks up her kid’s toys.

Sort of like “hey is everything okay with you?” and if she gives you a simple “yes” let it go and talk about something else. I disagree that women who don’t want to talk about “details” of an emergency are hiding something. When something happens in my immediate family I don’t share more than sketchy details even with long term friends.

The woman in my story didn’t even have the sense to share sketchy details. Any woman who explains away a mystery four day disappearance with a simple and incomplete “Yes” is presumed guilty of a Class A whore infraction. If a man takes your advice he will be a second class citizen in any relationship, which, I suppose, is just how you like it, because you’re a bitch control freak.

The part I disagree with about Aenigma is the “go out with other women” (or pretend to be too busy with other chicks). If a guy trys to make me jealous I always know and it’s satisfying for a woman because again….she knows you care enough to get upset and look for other chicks. An Alpha man doesn’t NEED an immediate replacement because he always has options. What’s the hurry?

In Cuntrag’s rapidly imploding universe, the man can’t win. If he’s a pouting beta, he loses. If he’s a player alpha, he loses. But if he does all her housework for no sex in return and pretends to enjoy her inane ramblings about the BMX biker doing a 180 handle spin into her anus, he’s the perfect man.

Here’s a clue, LR: An alpha man is not going to wait until you have thoroughly abused his trust before he exercises his options. The world does not revolve around you.

Not to mention that if she thinks you’ll run for another woman the moment she’s not available it will be easier for her to come to the conclusion that you’re not worth HER time (because you cannot be trusted).

When a woman skips town on her lover without even a cursory explanation, she has provided evidence that she is not worth HIS time. Whether she thinks he is worth her time is irrelevant.
Grade: C for… ah, I’ll let you finish the rest.

The_Judge wrote:

This is pretty simple, really. If you have been dating, vigorously I assume, for a month a half, then you should NOT tolerate a prolonged absence without an explanation. It doesn’t matter if her entire immediate family was killed in a freak RV trailer explosion; she should have let you know why she is leaving in the first place. Or if she left in utmost hurry, updated you the first chance she got with a very clear and concise explanation.

Anything short of the above is a clear and present sign of flakiness, which needs to be punished immediately. You don’t have to dump her right away, but a stunt like that requires complete detachment of empathy. If she starts talking some made up sob story (or even a true one, makes no difference at this point), you need to cut her down to size make it clear that you have priorities in life:

1. Me
2. A woman who cares for me and loves me unconditionally
3. My business
4. My affairs

A little bit of overkill, but basically this man grasps the deeper implications of the woman’s actions.
Grade: B+

Roosh wrote:

The answer depends on what you want from the girl. If only sex then who cares who else she fucks. She’ll return for the dick eventually and you’d probably have something else on the side anyway. But if you want something serious, then some type of dramatic call-out after a cooling off period will be required. If she doesn’t then verbalize how much she cares/likes you and wants to see you again then it’s done.

Context is king.
Grade: A+

anony (a chick) wrote:

@Aengima,
You are wrong and LR is correct.
Confident women NEVER knowingly compete, because 1) it’s unnatural; men compete, not women

The existence of the beautification industry refutes you.
Grade: Goose Egg (one left)

******

ANSWER

First, I will reveal what happened to the friend in my story. Then I will offer what I believe is the best response to any similar situation to the one experienced by my friend.

He picked up the phone Monday night and she explained that a girl friend had an emergency and she had to fly out of state to be with her. She didn’t tell my friend the reason for her hasty exit because her girl friend had requested that her problem be kept secret. Having sworn to uphold her friend’s privacy, she probably thought that telling my friend she was visiting a girl friend with a personal problem would mean she would have to explain the details of that problem. She said she did not answer texts or voicemails because her phone had no reception where her girl friend lived (a small, lightly populated state). My friend accepted this plausible excuse because she has a history of sexually pleasing him and giving him lots of affection, and furthermore she sounded genuinely happy to speak with him again. There was no dumping or demoting based on this incident.

Later, I informed my friend that he should keep a wary eye on his woman because her behavior, despite the solid rationale given by her, was not the ideal behavior of a woman who respects and cherishes her man more than the whims of her own self-indulgent egotism. If I’m right in my assessment of this woman’s character, then their relationship will not last much longer.

What I Would Have Done

I would have let the Monday night call go to vmail, then called her a couple hours later. As Roosh explained in his answer, if I liked the girl enough to consider her LTR material then it would have been acceptable, even required by the Code of Alphadom, to call her out on her disrespectful flakiness. It doesn’t matter if she was pulling a shit test or was simply absent-minded, her behavior sets a bad precedent for any potential relationship with her. Her excuse, while plausible, still leaves a bad taste in the mouth. She could have easily texted my friend that she was flying out to see a girl friend about a personal problem that she was not at liberty to discuss. Any man who wasn’t a beta paranoiac would accept that reasoning without argument, and with the patience to withhold judgement until she returned to fully explain herself and prove her continuing passion for him.

The method by which I would call out the woman in this story is one I have found works exceptionally well. I would first tell her I’m glad everything’s OK with her, then I would call her weird, or even creepy, for sending such a vague text in the middle of the night when it would have been no trouble for her to give a simple heads up why she was leaving. Girls use words like “weird”, “creepy”, and “loser” to describe men who repulse them, so by co-opting their own words of disgust to use against them you will strike deeper into the heart of their warped female souls. Girls understand the power of these words, so they will work to win your favor back if you tar them with the same brush they tar the betas of the world.

Then I would keep her at arm’s length for a month, hitting on other women and fucking her with a healthy dose of detachment, until she had earned the full measure of my trust again.

For those insisting that the woman in the story owes my friend nothing, your loose ethical standards are not helping her cause. The length of time of the relationship matters less than the vigor with which the passionate lust and loving affection has been exchanged. Any woman who has received your unprotected cock into her vagina on multiple occasions and taken loads of your hot seed to every square inch of her body has relinquished the freedom to behave selfishly and cavalierly without suffering a degradation of her worth as a girlfriend. By her cagey actions, she has announced that she is a rank slut. Her hole is open for business, no strings attached.

An important feeling every man wants in a relationship is the feeling of OWNING, in some part, his woman. This is a natural expression of the masculine essence, and is as undeniable, unassailable, and unalterable as is the feminine essence of wanting to love and be loved by a dominant man. The woman in my story has declared by her disrespect for my friend, whether intended or not, that she will not be owned. Stay away from women who think this way. They are at war with their feminine souls.

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A Test Of Your Game

Pulled from a friend’s real life events!

You’ve been dating a woman for about six weeks. The sex has been great and you enjoy her company. Recently, she accepted into her furrow your unsheathed manhood. Things are heating up. She has showered you with adequate flattery and cooed sweet talk in your ear. (No L word yet.) Everything is going well.

Then, one Thursday evening, she sends you a cryptic text announcing there is bad news, she won’t be around for the weekend because she is flying out of town. She thinks she’ll be back Sunday evening. She gives no reason for the sudden departure. She signs off the text with a couple of perfunctory “xo”s.

You text her back immediately asking why she’s flying out of town, and if everything is OK. She texts an hour later saying she’ll call you sometime during the weekend.

Friday and Saturday pass with no word from her. Despite your best efforts to remain an alpha paragon of aloofness and indifference, you begin to fret, remembering those times she talked about the ex she dumped wanting to get back in her life. Then you muse about the aspects of her nature that you don’t relish so much — the fact that she’s just north of 30, has no decent career prospects, and still talks of moving to new cities for “life experience” like she’s a recently minted college graduate. She’s assertive and flaky, an all too typical combination in a single DC woman.

You consider your options. Call or text her once more demanding an explanation? Send another inquiring text gently wondering if she’s in trouble? Do nothing?

Sunday morning arrives, still no word.

As with previous posts testing your game, the question is simple:

It’s Sunday afternoon. What do you do?

Late Sunday evening, after midnight, she finally calls. You were sleeping. She leaves a voicemail telling you she just got back into town and she’s really tired. She’ll talk later.

It’s Monday evening. Your phone is ringing. It’s her. You consider your options. Get angry and call her out on her cagey bullshit? Remain calm and act as if nothing she did was abnormal? Comfort her in her time of need? Don’t answer the phone?

What do you do?

I will post the answer later.

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Girls Who Insisted I Use A Condom

It’s interesting to recall who among the women blessed to have crossed lifepaths with the masculine juggernaut that is moi insisted I use a condom on the first night together. (Note: This is a separate issue from whether I decided to use a condom myself.)

A partial selection (because who can remember every girl they’ve slept with?):

Update: I completely forgot the DC lawyer chicks ———– NO CONDOM.

First love — Insisted on condom.
French au pair — Insisted on condom. Rolled it on with her mouth.
Bikini girl — No condom.
Riotgrrl DJ — Insisted on condom.
Library pickup — No condom.
Chinese girl — Insisted on condom.
Asian girl of indeterminate origin — No condom.
Asian girl of painfully tight hole — Insisted on condom.
Amelie lookalike — Insisted on condom.
Indian girl — Insisted on condom for blowjob (!) but not for sex (!!).
Artsy chick (#17 in a series) — Insisted on condom.
Cokehead — Insisted on condom.
Girl who was beaten by stepdad — Insisted on condom.
Ugliest girl I have ever banged — No condom.
Hard-charging MBA student — No condom.
Best friend of hard-charging MBA student — Insisted on condom.
Married Russian chick — No condom.
Russian au pair — Insisted on condom.
Married Polish chick — No condom.
Blonde with boyfriend — No condom.
Short brunette with boyfriend — No condom.
Bartender 1 — No condom.
Bartender 2 — No condom.
Bartender 3 — No condom.
Stripper — Insisted on condom.
Croatian chick — Insisted on condom.
Girl with smelly pussy — No condom.
Girl with five mangy hamsters for pets — Insisted on condom.
Black girl — No condom.
NIH nurse — Insisted on condom for round one but dropped insistence for round two.
Tomboy — Insisted on condom.
Romanian chick — No condom.
Preacher’s daughter (for real) — Insisted on condom.
Niece of semi-famous politico — Insisted on condom.
Blog groupies (6 of 13) — No condom.
Girl with furry ass — Insisted on condom.
Army girl with smelly ass — No condom.
Bulgarian girl — Insisted on condom.
Finnish girl — No condom.
Turkish girl — No condom.
Argentinian girl — Insisted on condom.
French girl with the most beautiful name in the world — No condom.
Girl who mentioned she was a Mensa member — No condom.
Chic Noir — No condom.

Rubbing my chin in deep pontification, savoring every delicious sexual memory, I detect a correlation between how long I dated a girl and whether she insisted I use a condom on the first night together. Here is a graphical representation:

The time I spent with the girl is the vertical axis. The number of times she insisted I use a condom is the horizontal axis. (Condom insistence was usually frontloaded in the dating cycle.) As we can see, the girls who insisted I use a condom on the first night were more likely to be granted the privilege of being my girlfriend. Dirty little sluts who flung themselves at my unsheathed cock had a higher chance of being a pump and dump or short term fling.

The longer a girl insisted on condom usage, the likelier I would treat her like a precious gemstone. But there are diminishing returns to this general rule. If a girl refused to start taking the pill and made me wear a condom well past the four week mark, I cut her loose. This was probably a wise decision by me. One, condoms suck. Two, she thinks I’m sleeping around on her but doesn’t care (this is a bad foundation for a fledgling relationship, even if true). Three, I wonder who else is she fucking?

For solid girlfriend material, you’ll want to aim for a condom usage insistence number of three sexual encounters. This allows her to maintain the fiction that she isn’t a slut, while not pushing you past the point of grudging acceptance into resentment at having your pleasure circumscribed by some smelly latex.

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