Patronizing Women Turns Them On

Reader Camron emailed:

I’ve dated lots of women and one common thread I’ve noticed is around the 1st or 2nd date, about 3/4 into the date, if you haven’t said anything for a minute the woman will ask “What are you thinking?”

Obviously I’m thinking about how awesome it would be to take her home and have sex with her, but my usually response is “Oh nothing,” and I changed the subject.

I usually end up sleeping with said woman, but I kinda feel like I’m slipping up at this moment. What should I say to that question? Should I tell her the truth? Should I move in closer at that moment and kiss her?

I get a lot of similar emails asking for advice along the lines of “What should I say when Girl says X?”, where X usually describes some innocuous question the girl asked or some kind of wholly typical shit test she’s tossing out. The answer I give is almost always the same: stop taking her so seriously.

If men could only learn and apply one rule of game it would be this: Don’t take her seriously. So much suffering of the heart could be avoided by following this one simple rule.

When a woman asks “What are you thinking?” your first, knee-jerk instinct should be to respond with something funny, silly, or evasive.

“What are you thinking?”

“If it’d be better to be reborn as a cat or a dog.”

Stop worrying about answering women’s questions directly. Playfully annoy them instead. Annoyance is great foreplay.

Better still, don’t answer with words at all. Let your kisses and gropes do the talking.

As for this reader’s specific scenario, the supersexed Don Juan strategy can work if the context is favorable. Have you gamed her to the point where she is throwing out lots of IOIs? Do her eyes sparkle with sex? Then, yes, lean into her ear and whisper that you’re thinking of ripping her clothes off so angrily that the buttons pop, and throwing her over the back of the sofa to fuck her like a wild animal in heat. But if you’re on the first date and kino has been mild, you may want to wait until you’ve at least kissed her before unleashing your inner crotch tyrant.

Truth is, most of the time the context will not allow you to run sex animal direct game. Save the raunch-talk for the bedroom if you’re in doubt about the suitability of the moment. Kissing a girl in response to an apparently banal question can be a good tactic if the mood is right.

There is a fine line of distinction between telling a girl your intentions and acting with intention. Sure, it’s a bold move to walk up to girls and, within five minutes of meeting, announce with great gusto that you want to fuck them, but that is the sort of boldness that’ll sooner get you shot than bring you battlefield victory. Your very low but time and energy efficient success rate will hardly compensate for the number of strikeouts you’ll have to endure. In contrast, *acting* with intention is very attractive to women. Your nonverbal communication (a big part of game) should be speaking what your tongue will hold. So while the reader might think that verbally expressing his honest desire is the winning move, more often than not it’s better to play a game of ambiguity and innuendo, and carry yourself with the swagger of a man who is thinking exactly what she thinks he’s thinking.

Read Full Post »

Ass Saving and Wife Taming

Reader GdI wrote in the comments to yesterday’s post:

All very interesting but I miss CH, whose near-daily offerings were that rarest of things online: unique. Funny, pithy, deeply irreverent, yet also profoundly based on a coherent and totally counterrevolutionary (and utterly reality-based) worldview. As Ken Tynan said, “Write heresy, pure heresy …” And so it was.

Occasional forays into paleo-punk politics and HBD-istan are are well and good, but Citizen Renegade ain’t doing it. This CH-lite-by-committee thing ain’t working.

Bring back The Dark Lord!

I see his point. This blog has been missing satan’s spittle lately. Henceforth, the dude who’s been writing the mid-week posts has been reassigned temporarily to Vladivostok. Now let’s get down to business.

Got mistress? If your woman finds a pair of earrings in your bedroom that aren’t hers, simply tell her:

“I was doing some spring cleaning and I found those. I figured they were yours.”

This is an impenetrable defense. The phrasing leads her to think the earrings are from a girl many years ago. You get the double plus goodness of insta-absolution plus the resume booster of female preselection.

Real Men of Genius called; they want this blog’s knowledge.

***

There’s this scene in “Death at a Funeral” that involves Uncle Russell, Norman, a toilet, a hand, and a runny shit deflected mid-expulsion. When I think of marriage, this is the scene that comes to mind — trapped under the maelstrom of an agitated anus. And yet, despite my words of warning, some of you will be damnfool enough to go ahead and get married.

Ok, then, if you want to march into the iron maiden with a dopey grin on your face, at least nudge the very bad odds slightly in your favor.

Rule #1 for men who insist on marrying the pussy they’ve been getting for free:

Make her propose first.

Yeah, this won’t be easy. How many women do you know who proposed marriage to their recalcitrant boyfriends? I know one. ONE. But that one gives all men hope, for where there is one, there can be many.

What’s the big deal about getting her to propose, you ask? Oh man, you have no idea how much misery you’d be saving yourself. Every time there’s an argument, and wifey is tempted to play that favorable divorce card with all the gatling guns of the misandrist industrial complex pointed squarely between your eyes, she’ll remember that time she dropped to one knee to ask — or more likely to beg for — *your* hand in marriage, and her rationalization hamster will whisper in her brain that the argument must be her fault, because why on earth would she have proposed to an annoying loser? No, it must be that there’s something wrong with her, not you.

When a woman proposes, it is she who invests in the marriage. She becomes the chaser instead of the chased. It is her ego on the line; her judgement. A woman in this psychological lockbox will be a lot more apprehensive about walking away from the marriage. She will autonomically defer always and forever to the premise that all bitter arguments and all traveling tingles must be unfair to her husband somehow. After all, she proposed marriage to a WINNER. What girl in her right mind would propose to a chump?

Unfortunately, steering a girl to do the humiliating work of proposing is not easy. She has to be head over heels in love, for one thing. And she has to feel acutely the dread of loss. Hints at marriage won’t cut it. She has to say the words “Will you marry me?”. Variations such as “Let’s get married” or “I feel we should be married” are acceptable.

Only masters of the game should attempt the parallel universe proposal. Newbs will get dumped.

***

Need a quickie conversation boosting routine? Tell a chick you’re thinking about getting a dog. Then segue… smoothly, like a single malt… into an observation about how people’s dogs match their personalities. Tell her she looks like the type who would own a jack russell terrier. When she asks why, you say “Oh, you know, always jumpy, kinda funny in an accidental way, and full of energy.” (When negging a chick hard, Uzi style, you’ll want to pair two negative connotations with one positive connotation. You want to deflate her bloated ego, not crush it into a powder that can be snorted.)

This is a powerful neg that serves the dual purpose of giving you reams of conversational material so you don’t run into the dreaded wall of awkward silence.

The hotter she is, the gayer/nastier/goofier the dog to which you will compare her. If she’s a 9, tell her she’s a chinese crested kind of girl. If she’s a 10, she’s the type to own a fat, farting basset hound. Save the noble dogs like german shepherds for the 7s and below. If a hot chick gives you a hard time about being compared to the personality of an incontinent chihuahua, accuse her of ignoring the beautiful parts of a chihuahua’s personality, like its fierce loyalty and big dog syndrome. She will start to feel bad for being mean to chihuahuas. Pat her hand as she reconsiders her malevolence.

***

Chicks who read comic books are slutty. They will bang on the first night. Don’t ask me why this is, it just is.

***

If you haven’t touched a girl on the forearm within ten minutes of meeting her, disengage. Your pickup is toast. If you haven’t touched a girl on the thigh within thirty minutes of meeting her, cut your losses and start fresh with a new girl.

Let me explain. In every one of my successful pickups, sensual touching occurred sometime within the first half hour. If you find yourself talking to a girl for longer than ten minutes without any touching taking place, you are perched over the LJBF abyss. Her erotic charge has been drained to less than 50%. And don’t be fooled by her smiling and laughing along with your witticisms and cutesy quips. Her lips may be curled in a smile, but her untouched body is withering into a cloistered nunnery of pussy dust.

Kino is king. Escalation is eminent. Zap these golden maxims into your wet head ham.

***

You can catch a lot of pretend-pious SWPL chicks off guard with this simple line:

“So how are you helping the environment for earth day?”

If she’s a status-jockeying hipster, expect a glorious apologia of defensive posturing. And where are tingles birthed? In the defensive crouch, of course!

If she’s Dana, expect her to laugh in your face. Then grab her and give her a deep, penetrating kiss. Sneak in a little tongue.

Read Full Post »

It May Be Better To Game In Small Groups

Randall Parker forwarded me a link to a study about abundance of mate choice affecting the quality of the choice.

Quantity may determine quality when choosing romantic partners

The context in which humans meet potential mates has a hidden influence on who they decide to pursue. In particular, when people have a large number of potential dating partners to select among, they respond by paying attention to different types of characteristics – discarding attributes such as education, smoking status, and occupation in favor of physical characteristics such as height and weight.

A number of studies in recent years have looked at what happens to humans when faced with extensive choice – too many kinds of chocolate, or too many detergents to choose from at the grocery store. Under such circumstances, consumer psychologists believe that the brain may become “overwhelmed,” potentially leading to poorer quality choice or choice deferral. Psychological scientist Alison Lenton, of the University of Edinburgh, and economist Marco Francesconi, of the University of Essex, wanted to know if the same was true of mate choice, given that humans have been practicing this particular choice for millennia. “Is having too many mate options really like having too many jams?” they ask. The study is published in Psychological Science, a journal of the Association for Psychological Science.

To find out how people respond to relatively limited versus extensive mate choice, Lenton and Francesconi analyzed data from 84 speed dating events, which is where people meet with a series of potential dates for three minutes each. Afterward, the men and women report their choices (a “yes” or “no” for each person). It should surprise no one that choosers generally preferred people who were taller, younger, and well-educated. Women also preferred partners who weren’t too skinny, and men preferred women who weren’t overweight. Beyond that, though, the attributes that speed daters paid attention to depended on how many opposite-sex speed daters attended the event.

At bigger speed dating events, with 24 or more dates, both male and female choosers were more likely to decide based on attributes that could be judged quickly, such as their dates’ height, and whether they were underweight, normal weight, or overweight. At smaller events, choosers were more likely to make decisions based on attributes that take longer to identify and evaluate, such as their dates’ level of education, their type of job, and whether or not the person smokes.

“Obviously, I think we look for different attributes in partners than what we look for in a chocolate, a jam or a 401(k) plan,” says Lenton. “But one of the points we’re trying to make in this article is it’s the same brain we’re carrying around. There are constraints on what our brains can do – they’re quite powerful, but they can’t pay attention to everything at once.” And if the brain is faced with abundant choice, even about who to go out with, it may make decisions based on what it can evaluate most quickly. As a result, this previously invisible aspect of the choice environment has the potential to determine one’s romantic fate.

The consumerists’ quandary. I’m surprised this phenomenon hasn’t been discussed more by game instructors. It would seem logical that the number of girls as well as the number of men in a pickup environment would have an effect on how we choose mates and how we ourselves are perceived as mates. How many times have you stood in front of a huge aisle displaying 62 varieties of vitamins and just said “fuck it” and grabbed the cheapest, or the nearest, brand? If “choice deferral” or choice constriction happens with vitamin brands, then it could conceivably happen with girl brands.

So what are the take-home points from this study? What should we men, always on the lookout for a quicker route to getting laid and loved, learn from the study’s conclusions?

1. In groups that have a lot of men, (for example, clubs and bars on busy nights), women will evaluate your mate potential on “superficial” (i.e. readily discernible) qualities like height and looks.
2. A corollary to number 1 is that in venues where there is a lot of male competition for the women to choose among, and you are average or below in superficial traits, you will not get many chances to run game on the girls.
3. In groups of few people, (for example, book clubs or painting classes), women will evaluate your potential as a partner on more “meaningful” qualities that can only be discovered during the course of lengthier conversations.
4. A corollary to number 3 is that women will be more likely to grant an average looking man an audition at an event that has few other men from which the women can choose. She will also want to know more about each man she joins in conversation.

If you imagine each woman has a tingle-o-meter that oscillates with varying strength to the proportion of male attractiveness traits present in a man she is talking with, and that also oscillates according to the number of other men in her visual field, then you can visualize how a typical woman will react to you in different environments. If you are great looking and tall, you will get a lot of insta-play from women where large numbers of other men are present. She will be choosing you almost entirely based on your easily perceived high value traits, and will likely be more forgiving of any shortfalls you may have in the less visually oriented suite of male attractiveness traits. So if you’re a broke, uneducated, Johnny Depp lookalike, you’ll want to make nightclubs your venue of choice, and you’ll want to close the deal sooner rather than later, before she has an inclination to dig deeper into your value as a man.

If you are not great looking or tall, then you’ll want to steer clear of venues where there will be a lot of men. You will do best in smaller groups with few men, let’s say bars on a weeknight, where the women will be open to learning more about you, and also likelier to overlook any physical shortcomings you may have. She will be choosing you based on a mixed package of easily perceived physical traits and less obvious high value male traits such as dominance, physical assuredness, humor, and charm/game. So if you have tight game but lack the looks to easily acquire auditions to demonstrate your game, you’ll want to focus on environments with few other men around, like day game or really any venue on a night besides Friday or Saturday night.

Since by definition most men are not in the top 10% of looks and height, it stands to reason that pickup instructors should not be teaching game to newbies in high energy environments like nightclubs. The best place to practice game is any place where a bunch of superficially high value men will not show up to distract the girl.

Some other conclusions we can draw from the study:

• This “choice abundance mentality” by women can be artificially triggered. If you have a lot of guy friends who are worse looking than you, then bring your posse to the local club. Faced with all those men to choose from, the women will naturally gravitate to you as the most superficially appealing man of the group.
• Addendum to the above: your friends can’t be *too* dorky, because then the women will tar you with the same dork brush.
• Also, if one of your less good looking friends has better game than you, and the environment you are in is sufficiently low key that he can run his game undistracted, then he may steal the girls’ attention from you. Good looks on a man are great, but good game is even better.
• If you are very good looking but a so-so conversationalist, you will want to stay away from things like book clubs, where the homelier men with sharp wits will absolutely crush you. I’ve seen it happen. Score one for the smooth talking Voltaires.
• If you are very good looking but have no game, suit up and hit da clubs on a busy night where women can instantly compare your looks to a ton of other men. Physical presence game is all you’ll need. Try to get used to one night stands.
• Homelier men should focus on gaming one or two girls in a night. They need more time to allow their heart light to shine. Theirs is a big stage with lots of props and a multitude of scenes to tell the story. Homelier men must be better at building connections with women, because a strong emotional connection will handily compensate for a weak physical magnetism.
• Good looking men should maximize the number of girls they hit on in a night. They don’t need a lot of time to attract attention. Theirs is a small stage featuring a one-act play and a very large audience all vying to get his autograph after the show. By maximizing the number of targets and compressing time spent with each target into a few minutes, they maximize their chance for a same night lay.
• If you have a sucky job and few ostentatious credentials to wave around, but your game is tight, you’ll want to hit on girls in large venues. The girls will be less likely to grill you on your educational and career background, and more likely to enjoy the spontaneous feelings you evoke in them. In other words, choice abundance means that girls are going to be too distracted to bother figuring out your life story. A confused girl is an easily gamed girl.
• If you have a great job, money, and conventional cred, but your game is weak, you’ll want to hit on girls on slow nights in smaller venues, or day game and insta-date them. Maximize your strengths and minimize your weaknesses. A calm, focused girl is a future time oriented girl who will judge on substance more than flash. (Note: sluts excluded.)
• Where there are a lot of men, you can create the illusion of male scarcity (and thus increase your odds of successfully gaming a girl) by walking away from girls early in a conversation. Always end conversations first, seem needlessly distracted, and make it seem like you are a man who has options, even if technically in a bar with more men than women, you don’t.
• If you are looking for a wife or girlfriend, you may want to shift your base of operations to smaller venues or events where you will be less tempted by choice abundance to invest time gaming the flashiest chicks whose key attribute is how good to go they are.

Apropos the study, only go to speed dating events where the women rotate. You will seem in higher demand than you really are.

Read Full Post »

Great Scenes Of Game In The Movies

In the last ‘Great Scenes’ post, we watched Cary Grant big facing Katharine Hepburn until she almost passed out from arousal. This time, we take a look at how deftly Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) handles Phyllis Dietrichson’s (Barbara Stanwyck) shit tests (and in the process practically invents film noir).

Phyllis (0:02): My husband! You were anxious to talk to him, weren’t you?

Walter (0:05): Yeah I was, but ah, I’m sort of getting over the idea if you know what I mean.

First shit test passed. She expected him to buckle when she introduced a competitive male threat, as most females are wont to do. (‘Let’s you and him fight’ is a convenient ploy used by women to separate the alpha wheat from the beta chaff.)

Phyllis (0:10): There’s a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. 45 miles an hour.

Walter (0:13): How fast was I going officer?

Pitch perfect. Role playing is catnip to chicks. If you only remember one rule of game, it’s this: Never take her seriously.

Phyllis (0:15): I’d say around 90.

It’s ironic that back in the day when overt sex talk was more culturally censored than it is today, a flirty conversation between a man and woman could contain so much more sexual tension.

Walter (0:17): Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.

Great working definition of an alpha male: He is the one who has an answer for everything. Also note the subtle de-pedestalization in this line.

Phyllis (0:19): Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.

Walter (0:21): Suppose it doesn’t take.

Notice how Walter is increasing the voltage of his replies. When volleying a swarm of shit tests, you’ll want to get progressively edgier (*not* angrier), following the beat of your prey’s seductive syncopation. Imagine a woman slowly withering under your powerful presence, your magnetic pull getting stronger with each quip, until you deliver the ego killing blow like a Final Fantasy finishing move.

Phyllis (0:23): Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.

This chick is unstoppable.

Walter (0:26): Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.

Vulnerability game from a position of strength. Sarcastic bravos!

Phyllis (0:29): Suppose you try putting it on my husband’s shoulder.

“I have a boyfriend”. One thing you’ll notice after you get a lot of experience with women is that they often turn nastiest right before they succumb. It’s as if with one foul push of cuntery they can silence the screaming of the tingles.

Walter (0:32): That tears it.

A beta, once he gets in a groove with a woman, is likely to spin that tune until it’s worn-out. An alpha knows when to cut the action. And when he’s beaten, he doesn’t sulk. Watch Walter as he turns away from Phyllis with a grin on his face. He knows he got to her.

Walter (0:38): Eight-thirty tomorrow evening then.

A question posed as a statement. Commanding.

Phyllis (0:40): That’s what I suggested.

Walter (0:41): You be here too?

Phyllis (0:42): I guess so, I usually am.

Walter (0:44): Same chair, same perfume, same anklet?

The game never stops playing, even when she does. Every word, every glance, every interaction is an opportunity for game. Noticing tiny details of a woman besides her physical features (e.g., anklet) is a powerful tool in the alpha’s arsenal. Translated into womanese, it means “I could notice every detail of your 152 erogenous zones”.

Phyllis (0:46): I wonder if I know what you mean.

Walter (0:49): I wonder if you wonder.

Donned hat, smirk, staredown. This is a man who’s letting her know she didn’t rattle him. Just the opposite, in fact.

Read Full Post »

Opportunity Is Everywhere

Today we’ll accompany an average American, SWPL Six-pack, on his daily routine as he makes an effort to meet a number of attractive women that he sees.

It’s a Saturday. He gets up in the morning, showers, dresses and walks to the Starbucks down the block. While waiting at an intersection for the light to change, he notices an attractive girl standing next to him. He pivots to say something to her.

“I’ve got thirty seconds before the light changes to flirt with you. Ready?”

On the sidewalk in front of the Starbucks, he passes another attractive girl.

“Excuse me. Could you tell me where the nearest Starbucks is?”

In Starbucks, waiting in line, he speaks to the attractive girl standing ahead of him.

“Ever notice how fast the Starbucks barristas work in the morning? They must take a triple shot before their shift.”

Outside, holding his drink, he walks to the post office to drop off a letter. On the sidewalk an attractive girl walks toward him.

“Hi!”

At the post office, an attractive girl puts a letter in the mailbox.

“Be careful, that box sends all love letters to my address.”

Leaving the post office, he walks to a clothing store to make some purchases. On the walk over, nine attractive girls pass by him.

“Hi.”

“Hi!”

“Hi there.”

“Hey.”

“Good morning!”

“Excuse me. Where is the nearest dog grooming shop?”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hello!”

At the store, a girl hovers around the sunglass display.

“You’ll want sunglasses that hide which guys you’re checking out. Don’t worry, you don’t make me self-conscious.”

In the lingerie section, an attractive girl rifles through bras.

“I need to buy something for Mother’s Day. Too frilly?”

Back on the sidewalk, he stops at a street vendor to buy a warm pretzel. An attractive girl is there as well.

“I know this pretzel. I think this guy shops at Costco and marks up 1,000 percent.”

He goes home to get his frisbee. He plans to meet a friend at the local park. On the way home, five more attractive girls ping his visual field.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi!”

“Hi.”

“Happy Saturday!”

On the walk to the park, two more attractive girls. He pretends to throw the frisbee to them.

“Catch!”

“Catch! Ohh, too slow.”

At the park, he and his friend spend more time ogling the girls than tossing the frisbee. A throw goes astray and lands near the feet of an attractive girl.

“I had my buddy throw it near you on purpose. I’m smooooooth.”

After playing frisbee, he goes to dinner at a local cafe with his friend. An attractive girl serves them.

“I heard the waitresses here are good flirters. Ok, let’s see what you’ve got.”

Dinner ends, and his friend leaves. He goes to Whole Foods to pick up some smelly cheese and grass-fed beef for the week. On the walk to Whole Foods, three attractive girls and one incredibly ugly girl pass him.

“Hi.”

“Hi!”

“Hi.”

*silence*

Loitering in the cheese section, he notices one of his exes is there. He sidles up to an attractive girl rummaging through the assortment of goat cheeses.

“Hey, I just noticed my ex is here. Right over there. I’m going to ask you a favor. Pretend you’re flirting with me so I can make her jealous. I’ll return the favor by flirting back. Trust me, you’ll thank me.”

Back at home, cutting off a hunk of cheese and downloading new Yeah Yeah Yeahs music, he makes plans to hit the local social venue with his buddies. Once arrived, he orders drinks from the attractive girl bartender.

“Don’t think this means we have something going on.”

A few hours socializing and drinking, he has met and spoken with six attractive girls. Walking home later that night, he steps next to an attractive girl at an intersection.

“I like your hat. Very trendy right now.”

He goes home to sleep, a full day behind him.

***

The above did not actually happen. Or, more to the point, it is not an accurate depiction of a day in the life of the typical, average American man who wishes he could meet more women. The number of attractive girls he saw on that Saturday is realistic, but the number of those girls he spoke to is, woefully, not.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t have the wittiest opener, or the smoothest delivery. If you open your mouth and say something as benign as “Hi” to thirty-eight attractive girls on a single Saturday, you will have rocketed yourself ahead of 99% of men who passed by those same girls and said nothing. You would have brought yourself closer to sex with at least one of those girls that wouldn’t have been the case had you walked by them silently, cursing your inaction once the moment evaporated.

Now add in a little game. You’ve just hurdled 99.9% of men who pass by those girls without muttering a word on that typical, “boring” Saturday. Are you beginning to recognize just how powerful this stuff is?

Opportunity is everywhere for those with the eyes to see.

Read Full Post »

May December Game

The third most frequent email request I receive from readers is advice for how to date younger women. (The second most common email request is of the type “Hey I was a beta with this girl I like. What could I have done better?”. The first is “Meet me this Thursday.”) I’ve written a few times about tactics for picking up younger women and the proper attitude to have with them, but those posts are buried in the archives, so consider this a refresher.

• Game will obliterate a 5-15 year age gap.

If your game is tight and you’re confident around a girl, you won’t normally have to deal with her objecting to the age gap. Girls simply don’t think logically like that, particularly the younger ones. But occasionally a girl will broach the subject early on, and this will happen particularly if she is not accustomed to dating older men. There are a variety of techniques for handling what I call “teaser objections”. That is, objections which are solicited not to cut off a potential relationship, but to test you for your ability to be comfortable around her, and to thus assuage her concerns being around you.

• Reframe the age gap

If a girl is interested, expect her to ask about your age. She will ask no matter how old you are. As a Jedi of the female condition, you will have answers ready for any objection. It’s best to turn it around on her so that it is you who is qualifying her. You can see examples of qualification lines in action in this post, which can also be delivered as negs. A common thread to reframing the age gap is to insinuate that the girl isn’t mature/sophisticated/worldly enough for you. You can even throw in a line about how older women seem smarter, and most of the younger women you have dated liked to talk about fluffy TV shows. Remember: Gina tingles are birthed in the defensive crouch position. *Squirt!* Always be on the offense.

Another solid technique is to anticipate her objection. Before she asks your age, set the tone by implying early on that she may not have the self-assurance to be in your company. This should be structured as an early stage qualification routine, which I wrote about here. Most girls will bite on this.

• Imply preselection by younger women

Sometimes a girl will ask “So do you usually date younger women?” Be careful, as the answer you think is a winner, is not. You will be tempted to tell her that you always date younger women. But she’s just as likely to interpret that as meaning you are an incorrigible skirt chaser of college coeds. It also sounds try-hard. On the other hand, you certainly don’t want to say she’s your first younger woman. That would raise a red flag as well. Your best answer, as is typical in matters of seduction, should be ambiguous and evasive.

“I’ve dated women of many different ages, younger and older. I don’t limit myself based on an arbitrary number. The connection is what’s most important to me.”

She will be left defenseless to the above line.

• Heed the numbers

Older men (where we define “older” as +10 years) will have to be aware that their pool of available younger prospects will be smaller. One, there are fewer single women after a certain age. (Though this is changing. Thank you feminism!) Two, there will be a percentage of women for whom dating older men is impossible to conceive. However, a countervailing force that works in favor of older men is the fact that there is a significant minority of women who *actively* seek to date older men.

The numbers generally break down like this:

40% of young women won’t date older men.
40% of young women *prefer* dating older men.
20% of young women are neutral about dating older men.

As an older man, you will learn to quickly ascertain which of the younger women you approach are most amenable to dating you. One way to look at it is that the older man has an extra filter to apply to his dealings with women that younger men, for the most part, don’t have to worry about.

• Heed the Top Two Rules

It is more important than ever that the older man refrain from showing even a hint of neediness or insecurity about the age gap. Younger women will be on extra high alert for signs of clinginess from older men, because after a certain age women will expect you to have your alpha shit together. Younger men can’t afford neediness either, but they have a little more wiggle room than older men.

Whatever you do, don’t make a big deal out of the age gap. Act as if it’s perfectly normal that you and her find each other attractive. Doubt is not only the mind killer; it’s also the wet pussy killer.

• Feminine girls tend to be into older men; masculine girls tend to prefer younger men

I’ll toss this one to the evo psychs. It’s true; the pretty, soft, feminine women like dating older men, while the skanky, hard-bodied, manjawed sluts and cougars-in-training get their rocks off bed hopping with younger men. There is a certain beautiful symmetry to this emergent natural order — the older men get the exquisite pleasure of sex and love with younger women while the younger men cut their teeth on older women willing to show them the ropes.

• Broken families are the older seducer’s best friend

The stereotype is true: Girls from broken families love dating older men. Maybe it’s separation anxiety, a latent daddy complex, or a strong desire for a reliable provider instead of a cad. Whatever it is, the daughters of divorce are easier pickings for the older man. If you hear a girl say she hasn’t seen her father in twenty years since mommy kicked him out, you are permitted to do a fist pump when she’s not looking. Again, thank you feminism!

Oh, and this is also true for women raised by much older fathers.

• Dress young

A lot of raging feminists will complain “Men should learn to act and dress their age!” Nevermind what older, bitter, expired women say. When you dress young, you appeal to younger women. But keep two caveats in mind.

One, be in shape. Youthful clothing only fits properly on slim bodies. I like the Hank Moody look — a pared down artsy style of tight black tee under a fitted hipster jacket, coupled with distressed dark jeans and either super swank shoes or scenester sneakers. I top it off with some mild peacocking, like a ring, leather bracelet, sunglasses, and fedora. But a fat guy would look ridiculous in a similar get-up.

Two, women in their late 20s and 30s will appreciate an older man in a sharp suit. If you are at a charity event where a lot of professional women who normally don’t frequent clubs will be in attendance, you will get more attention attired in a suit and projecting an air of authority and sophistication. As with all things fashion, context is king.

Note that youthful clothing is not necessarily synonymous with “trendy fads”. You can dress youthfully without following the latest youth trends. Try to hit the sweet spot where you look young but you don’t look overtly fashion-forward.

• Drop the bumpngrind dance club scene

Unless you are an incredible dancer, don’t bother bump and grinding out there on the dance floor with the rest of the drunk rabble rousers. You’ll feel stupid, and you’ll look stupid too. This doesn’t mean your dancing career is over. Older men can shine in structured dance scenes like salsa or tango. In fact, I have witnessed many an older man swoop younger women using tango game alone.

• Avoid age-restrictive scenes

Don’t take a younger woman out on dates to venues or events that have mostly younger men *or* older men in attendance. At the predominantly young man event, you will stick out like a sore thumb. This will make her self-conscious. At the predominantly older man event, she will stick out like a sore thumb, also making her self-conscious. The last thing you want to do is tempt a younger woman to believe you and her are culturally incompatible. So focus on taking her to mixed-age scenes that you both enjoy. Or skipping the scenes altogether and heading straight for the bedroom.

• Get up to speed on the latest in music and art

No brainer. Younger women want an emotional connection with you just as much as older women do. The easiest way to connect is through shared hobbies and interests. If she spits out the name of a band she loves, it helps if you know what she’s talking about.

• Baldness is bad

50% of men by age 50 have noticeable balding. Either shave it all off, or, if it hasn’t progressed too far, do what a lot of women do when their appearance suffers a hit and “get a little work done”. The worst thing is the monk’s ring. Avoid at all costs.

• Lie

If you know up front that the girl is going to be a short term fling, and she is more than 10-15 years younger than you, it’s sometimes easier to take the path of least resistance and lie. She’ll thank you later after the earth-shattering orgasm. A sneaky way to lie by omission instead of commission is to play the guessing game with her:

GIRL: How old are you?
YOU: Guess.
GIRL: 29?
YOU: Wow, you’re good at this! [Note that you didn’t specify if she guessed correctly.]

• Date foreign girls

Another true stereotype: Foreign girls love dating older men. Bonus: They aren’t fat!

• Target single moms

In some parts of the country you will find a lot of young single moms. If you know you have no interest in a long term arrangement, you can do very well targeting single moms under the age of 30, because single moms are more desperate to be loved by high value men. Let’s face it, most alpha males will not commit to a single mom, or fall in love with them. Why take on another man’s responsibility, either directly or indirectly? And kids are romance killers, snuffing out spontaneity like a load of wet diapers air-dropped on a brush fire. Plus, there’s that whole distended vagina thing. A buddy of mine once remarked that banging a chick who had had three kids was like riding the log flume wearing a suit made out of eels. However, if you want to experience the thrill of no-strings-attached sex with a much younger woman, you have really good odds with single moms.

• Grace under pressure

Older men have it in spades. Or are supposed to. Don’t let anything rattle you. Explosions of testosterone-y hurt and insecurity are the domain of younger men.

• Emphasize a powerful emotional connection

Older men are also supposed to be less awestruck by women’s beauty. One way to communicate this pleasant indifference to her youthful beauty is to discuss her finer qualities, like her surprising intelligence for someone with so little real world experience. Act as if her body is almost invisible to you. Until you get to the bedroom.

• Be the wise man

Older men are wise men. What was the point of all those years if you haven’t converted them to wisdom? Younger women want to experience your wisdom, but there is a wrong way and a right way to demonstrate your superiority over her. Don’t make a show of being a wise person. Don’t finger wag like a supercilious father. Instead, allow your wisdom to percolate naturally, showing itself only when the moment calls for it. Don’t draw attention to it. She will appreciate it even if she doesn’t say so.

Read Full Post »

The Wig

9pm on a weekday night. I leaned like a pillar of masculine detachment against the edge of the bar, blessing the peasantry with my royal aloofness. I sipped a gin and tonic, surprised with myself for agreeing with a buddy to go out on a slow night for some drinks. I doubly surprised myself for being an hour early. My buddy called. He would meet me later at a different bar. I now had an hour to kill at the chic lounge filled with young women and few men. A weekday night miracle!

I surveyed the room for potential sex partners. To my right were two girls, both mid 20s, both bouncing conversationally off each other with an effortlessness that revealed their BFFness. One of the girls was extremely tall (almost my height), foreign looking, and unattractive in the face, though her body was stimulating. The other girl was shorter, olive skinned, and very attractive. She had big Bette Davis eyes, huge tits, and moist, full lips, but her outstanding feature, the one that caught my gaze and held it, was her long thick mane of raven colored hair, highlighted with iridescent streaks of indigo. She talked animatedly with her tall friend, swinging her head around and lashing nearby patrons with streamers of her midnight hair. I wanted to glide my hand through her thatch and yank hard.

Indigo Girl glanced over in that way that showed she was trying to hide that she was glancing over. I had my opening.

“You guys are making everyone else feel uncomfortable for not having as much fun. Have some consideration.” I knitted my brow in faux disapproval.

“What are *you* doing out tonight, Mr. Cool Guy too cool to have fun?” Indigo Girl smiled to flaunt an impressive rack of pearly white teeth, then stood up on tippy toes and did a ballerina twirl for me. I felt movement in my pants.

“I’m waiting for a friend, but plans changed. Now I’m here to support local business.”

Tall Girl laughed. “That’s very noble of you.” She spoke with an exotic Eastern European accent, and I could tell from her first words that she was smarter than the average chick. It is something in the cadence, the articulation. She took a step toward me, presumably to ask me a question.

Indigo Girl dodged in front of her advancing friend and looked up adorably at my alpha nostrils. “We just got back from a show.”

The more I looked at her the more it dawned on me how sexy she was. “The way you’re dressed I’d guess you saw a show at [X].”

“Good guess! Do you hang out there? I’ve never seen you before. But take that as a good thing. I get bored of that clique-y scene over there.” Though she was a little tipsier than Tall Girl, Indigo Girl also spoke with the electric snap of someone sporting a big brain.

“I’m a clique of one. Very exclusive.”

The girls laughed. Well, technically Indigo Girl laughed, openly and without affect. Tall girl, clearly the level-headed one of the two, grinned demurely and circled the rim of her cocktail glass with a long spidery finger. We talked amongst ourselves for twenty minutes. In that time I was able to piece together the scenario unfolding before me, and to then use my new knowledge to properly game these two chicks.

Best friends. Indigo Girl is the classic Eternal Ingenue. She is accustomed to getting her way with men, and she fumes when she doesn’t. She will shamelessly clamblock her girl friends if she notices them enjoying male attention. She is whip smart and Machiavellian, given to breaking hearts and wallowing like a happy sexy sow in the ups and downs of her own heart. Tall Girl is the Amazonian Alpha (literally as well as figuratively). She is used to surrendering the spotlight to her more attractive friends, but this constant indignity doesn’t stop her from being a fiercely loyal friend. She would be a world class maneater if she were prettier. I think she knows this.

It would be very easy for me to play these two girls off each other into a jealousy triangle of the ages. And I did.

We bounced to a two floor social venue a block down the street. It was crowded. The girls bought me a drink and we chatted for a while. I made sure to divide my chat time equally between the two, addressing one and then the other in turn. Suddenly, like a butterfly with ADD, Indigo Girl rushed to greet one of the bartenders, a handsome hipster she knew from her social circle. The greet became a long-ish conversation. Stepping up to Tall Girl, I moved my body so that she was forced to reposition herself with her back to Indigo Girl and Hipster Bartender. I knew Indigo Girl would look over at us if she saw me talking intimately with her friend, and I wanted her to see my hand on her friend’s back and my mouth whispering in her friend’s ear.

It worked. Indigo girl hopped over after only five minutes of watching me talk with Tall Girl. Shit test passed. But I knew that with a girl like her the shit tests were only beginning. Tall Girl, for her part, suspected that my desire was focused on her friend, but my calculated conversation sharing probably nursed a belief in her that she could rob me from Indigo Girl.

It is a great thrill to have two women vie for your attention, but it is an exquisite pleasure to puppeteer two *smart* girls.

I will spare some of the details of the actual gaming. Suffice to say, it was my usual schtick, except smartened up in deference to the targets. By smartened up, I mean palm reading with an occasional three syllable word thrown in.

Two hours later, we walked to Tall Girl’s apartment. I had called my buddy earlier to tell him I would cut the night short to pursue a worthier goal than drinking with him. He understood and informed me he would call in the morning for details. Bro code, you see. At Tall Girl’s place, we all collapsed on her sofa and flipped through her collection of artsy posters. Indigo Girl got up and flounced to the bathroom. I had to be careful. The two of them had surely been signaling the whole night to decide who would be the one to tame this magnificent beast with a chest full of peach vellus. My worst move would be to accidentally insinuate that Tall Girl was the one I wanted to bang. I looked at Tall Girl sitting next to me on the couch, her eyelids sensuously hoisted at half mast. Uh oh. I sprang up from the couch and pretended to read some books on the mantle.

When I turned around, still musing facetiously about the book I was holding, I saw that Tall Girl was sliding languorously down the couch, her dress hiked up mid-thigh and her legs splayed open. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. My eyes locked in on her shorn cunt, unable to tear away from the sight of labia and mons. It took an exceedingly strong dose of willpower to look away and up toward her homely face to remind myself that she wasn’t the one I wanted to bed. When I did, I saw that she was staring at me with sex in her eyes. Her mouth hung partly open. If she had been hotter, it would have counted as one of the sexiest motherfucking vignettes of my life.

As expected, her homely face jolted me back to reality. I put the prop book down and walked to the bathroom. Indigo Girl was rummaging through a box of ornamental scarves on Tall Girl’s bed. She was barking requests at Tall Girl from the bedroom. “I need a scarf that says professional, yet dangerous. What do you have, [Tall Girl]?”

I peered backward into the living room. Though my line of sight was partially obstructed, it looked to me that Tall Girl was stroking her pussy underneath her dress with her left hand. She arched her neck and gazed up at the ceiling.

I addressed Indigo Girl. “Hey, I’m gonna head out.”

Pause.

I continued. “Let’s go.”

It was a risky move. I had to get out of there before Tall Girl lunged at me and claimed me for herself. But I didn’t want to leave heavy-balled. There is always a point in the seduction when a bold move is required; when intentions must be demonstrated clearly and unambiguously. This time was no different.

Indigo Girl’s eyes glittered for a split second as she processed my words. Then she grabbed my hand and we headed out into the mild night.

We talked the whole time on the half hour walk to her place. Words flowed effortlessly. My boner never relaxed, not even when she did what I’m about to tell you.

“Hey, sexy boy I just met tonight, I’ve got something to show you.”

I thought please show me your incredible tits.

She reached a hand up to her head and pulled off her hair. Her beautiful, thick, lusciously long, raven colored hair, indigo highlights and all. Underneath was a head of matted, thin, mousy brown hair, cut short to just beyond the ears.

What the hell was this? Wig game? Was this her last ditch ultimate shit test to screen men just before she surrenders her body to them?

I managed the most poker-y face I could muster. “Wow, you had me fooled. Good thing you’re still sexy with short hair.”

I wasn’t lying. She was still sexy. Well, maybe not quite as sexy, but the drop in sexiness was only a half point. Nothing the god of gonadal stimulation wouldn’t let us into nirvana for.

“Yeah, I like to roleplay. Tonight was wig night. Wheee wigs!” She spun and jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs around my torso. My crotch bulged angrily. This was a girl going to NYU Stern for her MBA.

We made love… no, scratch that… we fucked four times through the night. Her tits were as stupendously squeezeable as I imagined. Her style of fucking was not out of character; creatively flexible, liberally lubed, risk-taking, and impassioned. Also a little slutty. Like purple saguaro girl, she had toys. Lots of them. And not some dimestore, brown paper over the windows low class shit. Her toys were the highest grade. She was a Type A++ personality and leapt out of bed at 8am for a spin class. I showed myself out the door, briefly greeting her gay roommate on the way out.

We dated… no, scratch that… we fucked for three months. The week before she left town, she called at 1am and invited me to her place. I walked over in the still night air instead of cabbing it. I wanted to enjoy the anticipation. Inside, she was stooped over on the bare concrete floor now stripped of furniture, snorting a line of coke with her gay roommate. She motioned for me to join them. The coke line laid out for me on the cold floor was mixed with dust and debris. I watched her be alive, though I was beset with a heaviness I knew would soon be alleviated.

Afterward, we laid on the floor like flower petals. She took my hand, held it, then let it go.

In the morning, on my way out, I noticed her wig was poking out of the kitchen trashcan. I walked silently over and gave it a quick stroke.

Read Full Post »