Open This Set

Take a look at this photo…

A reader, who obviously remembers the first installment of ‘Open This Set’, sent me the above photo along with the following challenge to my manhood:

Attached is a set. Your target is second from right, against the pillar.
Go.

I accept this mission.

One, I would approach this four set obliquely, by myself, as if I was walking past them on my way to get free drinks from prettier women. I understand the wisdom of entering sets alone and having a wing step in later if necessary. After all, what will a woman deem more courageous and alpha? A solo rebel or a man riding point with moral support from his wolfpack?

Since this is an all-female set I can be flirty and edgy right away. No need to ease in slowly and assure a bunch of guy friends that I am not a threat. I notice a few things in the split second before opening — lots of half-empty drinks and a bottle, dyed hair, phallic toy (bachelorette party?) being held by girl with loudest fashion sense (attention whore), older brunette is the mother hen, two girls on right closer to each other than they are to the other two, girl in purple is the neediest (conspicuous lean-in), all four sitting on couch (possible bottle service? girls’ night out?), and most importantly… the target (second from right) has her hand wedged deep between her legs with her knees pressed together tightly. She is ovulating and horny. Her vulva rubs against the sheer fabric of her black tights. She will respond very well to a neg because ovulating girls are the ones most aroused by dominant men.

There are two options for opening here. Either go simple and straightforward, or go situational. Both are effective. An easy-to-remember generic opener, and one that would work well for men who sometimes experience brain lock on the approach, is a Roosh-style opener. For example:

“You guys look like you’re having the most fun of anyone here.”

The opener I would use for this set would be situational. The situational opener, a little more advanced as it requires thinking on your feet, has to focus on something unique about them and their immediate surroundings. I would stop halfway between, look over my shoulder, and address the girl most likely to cockblock — the American Bitch with the penis toy:

“You’re not holding it right. You want to pull it off? Figures. I feel sorry for your husband.”

Some laughing and shrieking would ensue, American Bitch would insist she doesn’t have a husband (I knew this already because I took note of the lack of a ring), and then I would propel the banter forward by accusing them of being another lame bachelorette party. I would wonder aloud if their fiancees knew what they were up to tonight. This baits them to give me vital information on who is in a serious relationship. Then I would turn my attention to my target and unload a neg:

“You look uncomfortable with that toy so close to you.”

I would then quickly address the two on the left. “Do you guys have to drag her kicking and screaming into having a good time?” Smirking, of course. Consider the smirk the .44 Magnum of the inveterate player. It always hits what it aims for and removes bitch shields like it removes fingerprints.

I’ve just flipped the frame from trying to earn their approval, to having them defend the group dynamic of their unimpressive girl fiefdom. It goes well (it always does because I am James Motherfucking Bond) and I motion for one of my boys to come over so we can either get these girls up off the couch or nudge them apart by sitting down with them. Sitting on the couch while I stand is a power position for them, and stripping them of that power is of the utmost urgency.

Now it’s your turn.

Go.

Read Full Post »

Game Will Help Ugly Guys

I was lounging in placid contentment on a sofa in a local lounge like a proper post-history, citizen-of-the-world nihilist enjoying the flume ride down the rump of American decline when I spotted a somewhat unkempt man with awkward mannerisms take a seat at a small table to my right. He was a little more homely than the average man, nearing 40, and bereft of any fashion sense. (For those who need the catharsis of another 800 comment thread on race, he happened to be black.) He moved in an ungainly way, as if hobbled by a long-ago hip injury. I watched bemused as he tinkered about his table, moving his chair in and out, fussing with napkins wedged between the ketchup bottle and salt shaker, and generally projecting an air of Rainman-like social unease.

A minute later, a woman approached him for what appeared to be a first or second date. Looks of recognition led me to believe they had met before. He clumsily stood from his chair, his motions so quick and jerky that the chair made a loud screeching noise as it was pushed back violently from the table. She was a black woman, in decent shape (read: not fat), and a point or two higher than him on the cross-gender physical attractiveness scale. He took a couple steps toward her and held his arms out for a hug, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. I surveyed her facial expressions. She was clearly not enthused about being there. She walked tentatively toward him, a crooked smile perched on her face, and prevented him from achieving his goal of a full-contact hug by arching her body away from his and giving him the long-distance “two pats on the back” pseudo-hug.

“So great to see you!” He blurted out the words like a burp and maneuvered for a tighter hug and kiss. She deftly evaded his sneak attack and left him stranded, kissing the air a few inches from her right cheek, his lips pursed outward in puffy, parched hunger for soul-nourishing reciprocation that would not come.

Impatient with his bumbling overreach, she snippily replied, “Ok, let’s sit down.” He vigorously nodded his head and mumbled “Ok, ok” and they both sat at the tiny romantic table next to the window that would not be able to works its magic that evening on this couple. I turned away, unable to bear the sight of their slo-motion heart wreck any longer.

******

Game could have saved this man.

Pulling up in a Ferrari would not have helped him. Receiving a standing ovation by the staff and patrons when he entered the eatery would not have closed the deal with his date. She would have raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his Ferrari or his mini-fame, her loins would have briefly stirred, but she would still be left sitting across a man with crippling beta mannerisms. Her smile would have rapidly decayed to disgust. Her disappointment would have been palpable.

But had he not jumped up from his chair when she arrived; had he not lunged desperately toward her for the hug and kiss his demeanor suggested he hadn’t gotten since his Mom saw him off on his first day of school; had he teased her humorously about the scarf she was wearing on a mild spring day; had he moved slowly and gracefully with the practiced insouciance of a wanton Casanova used to bedding women much hotter than her; had he been dressed with a little more care; had he stopped smiling like a vapid goofball for two seconds; had he qualified her about her worldliness and sense of adventure —

— he might have gotten the lay. Maybe not a 100% guarantee of getting the lay, but a damn bit better than the 0% chance he had BEING HIMSELF.

Recently, the Audacious Epigone challenged Game as egalitarian wishfulness. He, like so many others who have yet to delve deeply into the world of Game for themselves, claims that game will only help those who are already gifted by genetics with good looks or income-boosting and social adaptability-enhancing high intelligence. Now I am not one to shy away from the ugly truths, so there is merit in what he says; given equal facility with game, a good-looking man will do better than an average-looking man. A rich man will trump a poor man. A witty man will pull more than a dull man.

But rarely is skill with game distributed so equally. As I mentioned in the comments to Audacious’ post, excepting fame and vast wealth the most powerful lifestyle change the typical man can make to improve his lot with women is to learn game. The psychosocial dominance and alpha mimickry that game teaches is worth a garage full of Ferraris. Give a beta a Ferrari and he’ll look alpha while driving. Give a beta the self-confidence and swagger of someone who drives Ferraris and he’ll look alpha all the time.

Realistically, homely betas wielding the power of game won’t bang dime pieces (much). But they will begin to experience the pleasure of banging chicks 1 to 3 points higher on the looks scale than what they are used to scoring. And for most lifelong betas, that nontrivial step up the pussy ladder will feel like nirvana.

It is no exaggeration to say that game would have elevated the status, and hence the pussy-lubing power, of the clumsy, homely beta at Busboys far beyond his natural no-talents. And for a mere fraction of the cost in time and energy than he would have spent raising his status in more conventional, and socially-approved, ways.

Read Full Post »

Pulling Solid Number Closes

When it comes to number closing, the biggest obstacle is not getting the number; it’s getting the number in such a way that minimizes the odds she will flake. I read an interesting post on the blog written by one of Roosh’s day game students, Tyler, who has a novel method for bypassing weak number closes: Don’t push for them.

Girls that flake. Everyone has probably had this happen to them. Anyone who approaches girls and gets phone numbers finds that some girls don’t answer their phone or are “too busy” to ever do anything. This happens because they are flat out not that interested. This isn’t because you are not interesting, you just didn’t do enough to make them want it bad enough. Girls will rearrange their schedules for you if they want to see you bad enough. Once you get better at approaching girls, your next step is to eliminate flakiness. […]

I was putting too much emphasis on getting the phone number and not enough on the method. Numbers equal nothing if you can’t act on them. […]

Flat out, don’t even ask or insinuate you want their number. After this one particular night I implemented this experiment right away. So what happened?

The next weekend I met a group of girls. I liked the long haired, darker skinned girl from new york. She was the most attractive by far. I steal her friend’s chair. We exchanged stories and she is semi interesting. We find a few subjects that are common interests. At this point she has found a smart, unique, really good looking guy and she can’t believe she found him at a bar! But….I have to get going now….it was really nice talking to you….

That’s how I leave conversations. I leave a window there for them to give me their number, or inquire how we will talk again. I will leave nearly any girl hanging. An often response is…

“umm, do you want my number?” with almost a desperate look on their face. It is probably unbelievable to them that I just built this little relationship and I am willing to just leave without an attempt…

“well I don’t usually take girls’ numbers, I have been pretty busy lately….” Then I “decide” to let them have my number.

As they put my number in their phone, they text or call me right away. They do this so that I have their number and jokingly to see if I am lying. As I look down at my incoming call, I am standing right next to them. As I look up I quickly give them a kiss. They don’t see this coming and it catches them off guard. Then I leave and let it register in their minds what just happened. […]

Since I have done this, the flakiness percentage has drastically gone down. A girl won’t flake on me if she is asking for my number. […]

In the scenario where a girl isn’t asking how to get a hold of you, you can do things such as make tentative plans to prompt her even more. You don’t want to loose focus though. The idea is that she should be chasing you. Forcing numbers is a waste of time.

I have run similar number closing game on girls, and I can inform you this reverse psychology method is highly effective. It’s a wonder I don’t number close like this all the time, but sometimes you have to remind yourself of what works and what doesn’t, or you fall back on old familiar habits. When she isn’t immediately biting, Tyler’s advice to prompt a girl to initiate some kind of exchange of numbers is crucial. The best way to do this is to talk about some great event or activity you plan to do in the near future.

Here’s a real life example of my “reverse number close” game (post-attraction phase):

ME: There’s this amazing animal sex exhibit at the Corcoran this weekend that I’m going to.

HER: Animal sex!?! OMG that sounds ridiculous!

ME: Well, it’s not for everyone. You have to be open-minded to fully appreciate the beauty of it.

HER: Are you saying I’m not open-minded?

ME: Well, you are from the midwest. Nah, you’re pretty cool. It’s been fun talking with you. [I’m making a rocking motion with my body suggesting that I’m leaving.]

HER: You too. [She’s looking at me expectantly.]

ME: Oh, right. I should tell you… and don’t take this personally, because it’s not about you… I don’t accept girls’ numbers.

HER: Really? That’s weird. Why?

ME: It’s my personal philosophy. I want a girl to show she is different from all the other girls. If she calls my number, she has stood out from the rest. Plus, a lot of times I forget to call the girl’s number.

HER: Well, yeah, that’s different.

ME: I’ll tell you what. I’m feeling generous. Let’s exchange numbers.

[Segue to unlubed anal sex phase.]

A couple points. My number close above incorporates some very powerful mindfucking elements of game. Sexual Vibe and Future Pacing (“amazing animal sex exhibit…”). Qualification (“you have to be open-minded…”). Takeaway (“It’s been fun…”). Challenge (“I want a girl to show she is different…”). Preselection and Alpha Male Options (“I forget to call the girl’s number”). These are potent psychological techniques that stab right at the heart of a woman’s soft brainmush, and should be used sparingly. Overuse will ping her skepticism defense mechanism and trigger fresh rounds of shit tests.

Read Full Post »

Relationship Game: Tender Lovemaking Edition

I’ve been getting a lot of emails recently from readers who want to know how to square game with relationships. As has been discussed here before, game never ends. It is refined to suit the circumstances. In the beginning stages, your game portfolio is heavy on attraction and excitement stocks. Later, it diversifies into comfort and security holdings. But the fundamentals don’t change. You should be aware that after a woman has fallen in love she will begin to test your devotion to her as well as your alpha grace under pressure. So you see, the shit tests never die, they just reincarnate to annoy you unto your last breath. Fuck, my 87 year old grandmother gave me a shit test when I visited her at the home. “Grandson! You’re late! Do you think I can wait for you forever like one of your floozies?! Clock’s ticking!” I barely passed.

Here are some examples of what I’m talking about pulled from my own life:

• Going to parties

When you’re in a relationship, you’ll be going to lots of house parties with your girl. This is because most likely she will have more “friends” than you, as it is a weakness of the female gender that they cannot survive long without oxygen or petty gossip. When you show up at the party, don’t hang onto your GF’s side waiting for her to introduce you to her judgmental friends. Walk in the door first, stay with her for about five seconds while she gets her bearings, smirk like the sadistic alpha warlord you are, then make a beeline for the liquor in the kitchen and get both of you a stiff drink. On the way, chat up people you know peripherally or don’t know at all. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should you ever wait for your GF’s nudging or prompting to talk to her friends. The alpha way is the proactive way. She will be impressed as she admiringly watches you work the room like Jerry Maguire. And for fuck’s sake, don’t fret about leaving her alone for twenty minutes. Give her room to brag — or joke — about you. House parties with peers are one of the few acceptable gatherings where she will like being separated from you to talk amongst her yentas. This probably has something to do with the erotic charge of seeing her lover engaged with other women, yet still close enough to carefully observe in case you get a little too flirty with her mortal enemies friends.
Tip: When your GF introduces you to someone, don’t look at her first like a puppy waiting to be petted. Keep your eyes focused on the friend and shake hands.
Tip #2: Women are natural self-deprecators. When you and her are in a conversation with a small group mention your GF’s job or accomplishments. She will invariably humble herself. This is a great time to mildy rebuke her modesty and then praise her good work or taste. In the interest of social niceties, she will transparently balk at your praise, but inside she will love you for it. Mentally prepare for volcanic sex later that night.

• Visiting your family

I had been dating this stunning girl for a year when I decided to bring her to a Christmas family dinner with aunts, uncles and cousins. She was the introverted type and did not do well in large groups of people she hardly knew. She also didn’t drink, so I knew that option was right out. Family gatherings are completely different than house parties. I would need to ease her into the scene. She was nervous and self-conscious. I stayed by her side for a long time, and gently pulled her by the upper arm when I wanted to talk to someone else. She followed without hesitation, and after a half hour of me chaperoning her I could tell she was visibly loosening up. By the end of the evening, she was comfortable enough to talk with my bombastically charming rich alcoholic uncle one on one.
Tip: When a family member asks what your GF does for a living, don’t answer for her. Let her do the talking.
Tip #2: Sit next to your GF at the dinner table. Pour her wine. Put your hand on her leg under the table and rub the back of her knee. Mentally prepare for cataclysmic sex later that night.

• Making Plans

I was dating a girl for a few months. I made plans with her to go to the beach. She packed her beach stuff in the trunk of my car, sat next to me with a big smile on her face, and I started driving… somewhere else. It wasn’t until a half hour into the trip that she noticed I was driving the opposite direction. “Are you taking a short cut? The beach is the other way!” “Maybe. Boy, you are too quick for me.”  I teased her like this for a while before I surprised her with my new plans. We were going to a quaint bed and breakfast in the mountains, complete with jacuzzis, horseback riding and candlelit dinners overlooking the valley river. She squealed with delight. After her astonishment wore off, she began to complain that she had only packed beach stuff. I told her not to worry. I had packed an alternate suitcase full of more appropriate clothes for her.
Tip: Make plans, change them, surprise her. Just be sure to cover all your bases. Chicks cream their panties when you remember the little things, like bringing along her favorite wine or knowing what types of vacations she really loves. They really love it when you’re unpredictable without being sloppy with the details.
Tip #2: If she’s uptight about this sort of thing, tease her mercilessly for being anal retentive. Then sweetly assure her that you took care of all the contingencies. Mentally prepare for event horizon sex later that night.

A few other pointers:

Frequently pat her ass.
Compliment her beauty sparingly.
Draw a picture of her in crayon.
Play “butt spatula” in the kitchen.
Tell her mom she’s a MILF.
Curse her in a foreign tongue.
Compare her to a chihuahua.
Call her Paris Hilton.
Leave handcuffs in full view.
Drip hot wax on her nipples.
Buy a handgun and let her caress the barrel.
Reenact rape scenes from movies.
Be impervious to her taunts.
Act cagey.
Hide your money.
Buy her gifts when they’re not expected.
Don’t buy her gifts when they are.
Avoid PDA one day and finger her in public the next.
Bang her within a stone’s throw of:
a church.
a Dunkin Donuts.
a public restroom.
a school playground.
an outdoor wedding.
a caged zoo animal.
Scare her till she pees herself.
Hide sexy post-it notes in her panties.
Get used to saying the words “Enough”, “Shut up”, and “Turn over.”
Look fantastic in a suit.
Look fantastic in casual wear.
Look fantastic in anything.
Sound good.
Smell good.
Kiss good.
Strut around with supreme confidence.
Be uncannily successful at your job.
Blow people away anytime you say anything.
Take six-hour lunches.
Disappear for weeks at a time.
Lie to everyone about everything.
And drink and smoke constantly.

Basically, be Don Draper.

Read Full Post »

Great Scenes Of Game In The Movies

In the last “Great Scenes” post I showcased the game run by Paul Newman’s character in the movie Hud. This time, it’s another classic move, Pee Wee’s Big Adventure, where super alpha Pee Wee seduces the shit out of Dottie.

My comments below are in bold. How do you handle it when a girl you like flirts with you? Pee Wee shows you how.

***

Kid: Is Dottie still working on your bike?

PEE WEE: No, I’ve got it back a couple days already.

Kid: What’s she doing to it?

PEE WEE: I can’t talk about it. James Bond kind of stuff.

[first rule of pickup: always be in character.]

Kid: Dottie’s radical with bikes.

DOTTIE: Hi, Pee Wee.

Kid 1: I say we cruise, dudes. It’s getting hot in here.

Kid 2: It’s steamy.

Kid 3: I’m sweating.

PEE WEE: Is my horn ready yet?

[pee wee doesn’t say “hi” back. it’s very alpha to skip pleasantries and get right to business.]

DOTTIE: It’s ready. It should be loud enough for you now.

PEE WEE: Where is it? Let’s hear it.

[demanding and brusque. alpha]

DOTTIE: Wait. I want to talk to you first.

PEE WEE: You are talking to me.

[there is a little overlap in temperament and attitude between alphas and betas, but there are also some things alphas do which betas almost *never* do. and one of those things is being a smartass. betas are hardly ever smartasses, especially with girls.]

DOTTIE: No, I want your undivided attention.

PEE WEE: *makes a face*

[nice face. teasing girls is very effective. and the best teasing is nonverbal, communicated through exaggerated facial expressions or body movements]

DOTTIE: Look Pee Wee this is important. I want to ask you something. I want to know, if you will do something?

PEE WEE: What?

[if you like a girl, and she comes on to you, a great way to respond is to act suspicious of her motives. so let’s say you’re in a bar and a girl you’ve been gaming reaches over to touch your chest. don’t jump at the first opportunity to make out. instead, say “heeey… what are you up to?” while giving her the stink eye.]

DOTTIE: I want to know if you’ll go someplace with me.

PEE WEE: Like where?

DOTTIE: The drive-in.

PEE WEE: Look, Dottie, I like you. Like! I like you.

[pee wee may be serious here and not actually like dottie, but if you do like the girl, playing a game of reverse LJBF can be a good way to heighten sexual tension. “oh i don’t know, carrie, i like you, but i’d hate to do anything that might… jeopardize… that. it’s very chancey.” be sure to telegraph your unseriousness with heavy sighs and head shaking.]

DOTTIE: I like you, too.

PEE WEE: There are a lot of things about me you don’t know anything about. Things you wouldn’t understand, you couldn’t understand. Things you shouldn’t understand.

[dramatic vocal tonality is so underused by men. all most guys know how to do is shout and bellow, like drunk fratboys. try experimenting with different voice pitches and pauses and tempos. it will add a theatrical flair to your conversation that is irresistible to women.]

DOTTIE: I don’t understand.

PEE WEE: You don’t want to get mixed up with me. I’m a Ioner, Dottie. A rebel. So long, Dot.

[The Golden Pickup Rule: Unless you can get a same night lay, always leave first. Always be the one to cut the conversation off. Always end the date first. Always be the one waving goodbye first. Chicks LOVE when a man walks away from them to journey… somewhere else, where only men with plenty of options journey. If you’re having trouble settling on a self-identity, you can’t go wrong with brooding rebel. This archetype is universally attractive to women. There’s probably a very good evo psych reason for it. So in a pinch, just tell chicks you’ve “got to be moving on. Don’t know where I’m heading, but I’m doing it alone.” Insta-pussy lube!]

Note: On a scale of 1 to 5, this post was 1 tongue in cheek.

Read Full Post »

How To Sell Yourself To Girls

Lie to me, I promise I’ll believe…

I had a friend who was a stockbroker. He was good at his craft. When anyone asked him his secret to success, he always said “How do I kill in this business? Practice. In college, I had to sell myself to the girls!”

There are very few jobs or hobbies that, if described with 100% candor, would intrigue a girl to pussy exploding abandon. Espionage is one. President of the United States is another. You can’t go wrong with jewel thief either. But for most aspiring ladykillers, the word of the day is embellish.

Here’s how this works. Let’s say you’re a CAD monkey architect and your hobbies are biking to Whole Foods for smelly French cheese, building computers, and masturbating. Your only travel experience is a vacation to Turks and Caicos. (You’re in good company. This describes 98% of men.) Now most girls, if they’re interested, want to know what you do. They have a dedicated neural network pulsating in the pastel-colored folds of their girly brains that impels them to suss out how a man makes his living and how he goes about living. But, being women, they also have a contradictory twin neural matrix that would rather you not tell them the whole, eye-glazing truth. Their need to scrutinize is held in check by their need to fantasize. So this is what you tell her:

“Oh, I’m a creator. I guess you could say I bring together art and science in the design of living space. You heard of feng shui? I’m all about it. That’s the life of a cutting edge architect. My hobbies? I mountain bike competitively. There’s nothing like the rush of careening down a muddy, rocky trail in the scenic wilderness of a rugged foreign land, the giant fronds of tropical plants slapping you in the face along the way. It’s breathtaking! I’m also something of an electronics whiz and once tried to hack into a Chinese government website back when I was a rebellious kid. Some people say I’m a very passionate guy, so much so that I can hardly contain my passion. And to tell you the truth, it gets me in trouble more often than not.”

See? Not too truthful, not too deceitful. Like Baby Bear’s porridge, juuuuuust right.

Another example:

Real You: Intern at psychiatric hospital, avid music downloader, 70s porn lover.

Embellished You: Investigator of human social dynamics under stress, music critic and indie scene connoisseur (or DJ in a pinch), erotic art collector.

Women want the varnished truth. Every man with an ounce of common sense about women and a healthy streak of amoralism will polish his sales pitch. Even Brad Pitt glosses over The Mexican. It’s a testament to how ignorant the majority of men are about women’s motivations that so many of them won’t or can’t embellish their lives in service to their loins. They think in their honesty they are being virtuous, but they are only being boring, lazy and bland.

Some men will wonder how long the pretty lies can remain undiscovered. What if you want an LTR with a girl? She’ll find out eventually, right? Wrong. First, most girls don’t really want the 411 on the dirty little details of your tiresome lifestory or career, unless they suspect you of cheating. They *like* the ruse. Second, as long as they aren’t working in the same office with you they will never really know what you do. And you know what? They don’t want to.

Maxim #39: Never tell a girl how much you make, even if you’re loaded. In case of marriage, keep separate accounts.

Read Full Post »

Things Are Changing

Case #1

I’m on a date with a girl from a small, poor Eastern European country. She used to live there as a little girl when it was still behind the Iron Curtain. After the Soviet Death Machine fell to pieces in 1989, she moved to the US and has been here ever since. I broke one of my cardinal rules and allowed her to get political on me.

ME: So you must have been pretty happy when the Soviet Union fell.

HER: Well, I wouldn’t say I was *happy*. More like, there were pros and cons. Universal health care was nice to have.

ME: [thinking to myself Oh christ, a commie sympathizer] Universal health care means a poor quality health system and long lines.

HER: Hey, you’re not one of those libertarians, are you?

Precious. Girls have balls these days to just blurt out whatever obnoxious thing enters their heads. They fear absolutely zero retaliation or consequence for their actions from men they date. Are men this desperate that we have bred an entire generation of ill-mannered bitches? I wondered what would have happened if we were talking about our careers and I had said something like “Hey, you’re not one of those lame nonprofit do-gooders, are you?” She would have huffed and cut the date short, going home to call all her friends to tell them what a jerk I was.

I decided the hell with it, and switched to Nuke the Pussy from Orbit game.

ME: Whatever I am, it’s probably 180 degrees the opposite of what you are.

HER: Well, who did you vote for?

ME: I didn’t vote.

HER: Whaat?! [looking shocked as if I had admitted to serial necrophilia] How could you not vote?

ME: Easy. I stayed home. Are you a Commie? What would you call yourself politically?

HER: I’m not Communist, but I would say I understand a lot of what they believe in. I’m more of a socialist. I like the free education and healthcare.

ME: You do realize that it’s not free? Everyone pays for it in burdensome tax rates.

HER: Well, Ok, it’s not technically free. But I think we should care for the people. It’s our responsibility to make sure no one suffers without health care.

ME: So why don’t you just pay for it with your own money instead of forcing people like me to subsidize your morality? [I was really beginning to enjoy myself. I noticed her body had stiffened]

HER: [getting torqued] Yes, I believe we all should contribute. It’s what’s best for society. You wouldn’t just let people die without help!

ME: It’s immoral to take my money away from me when I don’t want to give it. That makes you a dictator. Are you a totalitarian dictator?

HER: It’s not being a dictator to want to stop suffering. It’s basic decency.

ME: [sending a multi-warhead payload] I think it’s bad long term policy to prop up the poor and weak. The herd must be culled. Otherwise, they reproduce on my dime and drag everyone else down.

HER: People wouldn’t just die like that. They’d live in suffering, so you have to help them while they’re alive.

ME: [total war] Oh, they’d die. If all aid were stopped, the babies of poor and useless people would die before reaching their first birthdays.

This date ended without the close, but I have to report that despite my Nuke the Pussy game, there was a spark of electricity in her eyes. I bet not a single herb or SWPL had ever spoken to her like that before.

Case #2

I approached four sets. The first two sets I went in with casual game. This is where I make some innocuous but humorous comment about something situational, and let the chit chat move the interaction along into more fertile fields. For example:

ME: [after seeing a girl pick a piece of lint out of her girlfriend’s hair] You have excellent grooming skills. Guys would never do that for each other. We’d leave it in there and laugh at our friend all night.

HER: [smiling] Thanks, she would do the same for me.

Our conversation went back and forth like this for a minute, then died out. Friendly asexual vibe: 100%. Sexual tension: 0%. This was the kind of game that would have been more than adequate for my father’s generation, but today it means nothing. I did another set the same way with the same results. Then I switched gears to Asshole Game for the next set.

ME: [noticing her mode of dress and curling my mouth downward in reproval] I can’t believe you’re in here.

HER: What? What’s that supposed to mean?

ME: You should really be in Georgetown. This bar is a little too edgy for your type. Not that that’s a bad thing, but you know, I’m trying to save you any uncomfortable feelings being outside your element.

HER: That’s an asshole thing to say.

ME: Yup, I guess.

HER: And what exactly is my type?

ME: Prim and proper. Boring but dependable.

The conversation continued in this way for a while. She reacted with obviously faux indignation. But the results were much improved. Number close. Friendly asexual vibe: 0%. Sexual tension: 100%.

There is change in the air. The culture is shifting right under our feet. What I have noticed lately with more frequency is that I have to act like a dick to get anywhere with a girl, even the good girls. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, as my dick game is pretty good and I enjoy doing it. But it seems that only dick game can break through a girl’s perimeter defense to the pulpy, juicy center of animal desire.

It wasn’t always this way. Sure, there were sluts who were so inured to getting played by cads and assholes that they could only respond to asshole game. These girls used to be around 20% of the population back when I was in high school. Today, that number has risen. It’s closer to 60%, and in bars and clubs in the city it may as well be 100%. The sweetest girls who grew up in happy families with mom and dad still together are turning into little playettes with adamantium bitch shields. This change has picked up the pace in just the last year. It’s finally happening. The game is causing girls to adjust, and screen for the biggest most congruent assholes, in spite of their intentions to the contrary. It’s evolution, baby.

I cannot respect a girl who dances like a puppet to asshole game. She will get the worst of me.

Read Full Post »