Eluding ‘I Have A Boyfriend’

Because the ‘I have a boyfriend’ shit test reflex is commonly encountered when picking up women, many resourceful men have figured out ways around it. As far as I can tell, workarounds fall into the following categories:

• Acknowledge it and plow

An example of this would be replying “Oh, that’s cool. Hey, you can bring him along when we go for drink.” Or: “Every girl has some guy they call a  boyfriend.” Proceed with pickup as before.

• Ignore it and plow

She says “I have a boyfriend”; you say… “Hey, check this out. Which fingers do you wear your rings on?” Proceed with pickup as before. [See: Style’s Ring Finger routine]

• Make a clever retort and plow

For instance, she says “I have a boyfriend” and you reply “That’s cute. So does my girlfriend! We have something in common.” Proceed with pickup as before.

• Preempt it

Before she has a chance to vomit the ‘I have a boyfriend’ line, you say “I’m surprised you would come to a place like this without your boyfriend” or “Does you boyfriend know you’re out here tonight?” and see if she bites. Upside: Saves lots of time avoiding users like the girl in yesterday’s post. Downside: Reminds her of the boyfriend if she really has one.

• Indict the boyfriend and plow

The idea behind this tactic is to plant a seed of doubt in her mind about her boyfriend (or strengthen the doubt already in her mind). So you reply: “Do you need your boyfriend’s permission to talk to a cool guy in a bar?” Or: [look around] “I used to let my girlfriend go out with her friends a lot. It was good because I could do my own thing when she wasn’t around.” [smile mischievously] “Where’s your boyfriend?” Ignore her answer and plow.

• Question her independence and plow

Reply: “You’d better give him a call and tell him you’re not doing anything bad. Some guys worry.” Turbocharged plow!

***

Which one of the above countermoves is most effective? I don’t know. I’ve used all of them with some success. The key is to pay attention to the point in the conversation when she ejaculates the ‘I have a boyfriend’ line. If she says it right away before you’ve gotten two words out of your mouth, it is most likely not a shit test to determine your fuckworthiness. She either doesn’t like the cut of your beta jibe and is letting you down quickly and easily, or she really does have a boyfriend and is being a woman with integrity by letting you know this up front before you have wasted precious minutes futilely gaming her.

On the other hand, if she talks with you for a while before saying it, and she has dropped a few IOIs your way, there is a good chance it is an artificial hurdle. She either has a (rapidly fading) boyfriend and is open to being properly seduced by you, or she doesn’t have a boyfriend and her saying it is just a crude shit test because she’s a woman of low character and social retardation. Either way, you should plow as if her boyfriend objection is meaningless, because it is. The third possibility, and the most dangerous female ploy, is the one I wrote about yesterday: She has a boyfriend she is not going to cheat on, but omits this vital information so she can delight in the ego stroking you give her with your flirty attention. The only way to avoid timesucks like this is to preempt the boyfriend excuse, as explained above. The problem with preemption is that it risks setting an anti-seduction tone. Luckily, I’ve found that it’s a minority of taken women who will deliberately string men along for the attention.

How will you know if she’s open to being seduced away from an imaginary (or not) boyfriend, or if she’s just using you for validation? The answer is in her facial expression. As with the girl I wrote about yesterday, a woman who looks clearly apologetic when she drops the boyfriend bomb and turns rapidly cold after saying it is an attention whore. A user of the good feelings you gave her for twenty minutes. But, if she is still engaged with you after mentioning her boyfriend, and her flirty demeanor hasn’t let up at all, you can safely assume the BF excuse is just that… an excuse. Be sure to verify her continued interest by moving her to a quiet part of the bar. This is critical. A girl in a relationship who has no intention of screwing around on her boyfriend will not follow you to a different location, no matter how good your game or how much she likes you or how few feet away is the new spot. The venue change/location move is a reliable test for smoking out the user whores.

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Alpha Move Of The Day

The Forearm Grab

You’re holding court with three girls. You’re feeling good, on top of your game, and you’ve nailed the perfect stance — standing with your back against the bar surveying your kingdom. The words and the smirks are coming naturally. You know the whole place is watching, intrigued by your social mastery. Five minutes, ten, twenty… you’re not really sure how much time has passed. Your main target’s two friends say they are going to another bar. She shrugs her shoulders at you, smiling, and says she’s going to go with them.

You know this is an IOI to at least grab her contact info. Instead, you reply “You’re a cool chick. Have fun with your friends.” As she turns away and begins to walk off, you grab her forearm firmly and say “Hey”. She spins around, looking at you with a mix of surprise and desire. Her two friends have walked ahead of her. “You’re interesting. Let’s meet sometime. I’ll need your number.” Insta-close.

***

Why this works:

The rollercoaster concept. Girls love oscillating from high to low to high again. She was waiting for you to lunge for her number when she said she had to leave. You denied her that. Unpredictability. Disappointed, she prepared to leave. Then, you grabbed her arm like a mighty godlike hand from the heavens and denied her the disappointment as well.

The hard physical contact. Your grab was firm, fingers wrapped all the way around. This was no time for the light touch. The occasional unapologetically hard and bold kino is one of the purist demonstrations of alphaness. Done at the right time, it will shatter female defenses.

The non-neediness. You almost let her get away. And yet you seemed preternaturally calm about having nearly lost her to the crowd. She was left with the impression that you had no plan to get her number, but changed your mind at the last second. You’re different than every other guy.

Give it a shot.

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Schooling The Haters

There are a lot of misconceptions held by haters (and some non-haters) of the game and of yours truly that deserve closer examination.

Obsidian writes in response to a pickup scenario with a sultry game-playing chick I recounted:

Such a girl as described, would come off to me that she would not be satisfactory for potential Mommy material. On top of that she was just plain weird.

[…]His intentions are quite clear-to fuck, usually but not always, in pump & dump fashion-as many Women as possible. To that extent then, his selection criteria, is considerably different from mine, and I see nothing in the least wrong with that.

[…]some of the Game moves one would use to attempt to bed the gal in his scenario, would be wholly different in the kind of Game I used wrt say, Brown Sugah, whom I’ve mentioned before.

It’s amusing how writing in a certain style will lead people to induce the substance of what you write. In fact, I have rarely if ever written on this blog that my intentions are to pump and dump as many women as possible, unless it was in a humorous context. I have described the reality of women. I have given pointers on how to pump and dump if that’s your goal. I have singled out a certain type of woman for pump and dump status. But none of that reflects what I personally value in my own relationships with women. Of course, it is a weakness of human nature to imagine the most antagonistic motives of another person if what that person says is not thematically consistent with the narrative playing out in one’s head.

When I have written about my value system I have been quite clear — a relationship with a woman who loves you is one of the sublime pleasures of life, perhaps the very best pleasure, and the occasional fling or one night stand is pretty good too. It does not make sense, given the short time we have our lives on this earth, to pass up opportunities to make love with women, even to fuck them silly, if the woman does not pass your stringent criteria as LTR material. So yes, one night stands with scheming game-playing chicks and long term passionate relationships with quality women are not morally incompatible in my worldview. Only those whose options are limited (Hi TBG!) subscribe to those sorts of self-serving sociosexual codes.

As for Obsidian’s contention that the game used on weird chicks such as the girl in my post is different from the game used on the kind of women Obsidian is interested in meeting (presumably, marriage material), I call bullshit. Game, like a woman’s looks, is not cookie cutter, but neither is it completely random in its effect. The fundamental concepts of game are universal and apply equally to all kinds of women, from Rules Girls to club sluts to church angels to playettes to rebounders to Georgetown yuppies to SWPLers to haughty hipsters to young to old… and even to lawyer chicks. If it were not so, there would be no such thing as “game”. Think about it.

Superhater Keith, the Alpha-iest of Alphas wrote:

Yes, but [the girls who respond positively to his game] still resemble one another in otherwise unobserved traits that correlate with their tendency to give you their number in the first place.

This is a common anti-game argument pulled with insipid frequency from the hater handbook. Alternate version: “You’ll only pick up sluts and low self esteem girls who fall for your game.” Haters of this school of hate comfort themselves with the lie that no worthy girl would ever fall for a player. As I fatherly corrected Stupendously Alpha Keith in the comments: Tautology, unreel thyself.

Super Alpha Keith reminds me of those cloying beta chumps who have spent many years of indoctrination in a seven sisters school, imbibing the feminist zeitgeist with gusto and learning to parrot all the right shibboleths in order to steal a thin-lipped kiss from some hippie chick with Daddy Gaia issues. There is of course no specific type of chick who falls for game, because there aren’t different sets of rules that govern female attraction. Game is unlimited in its potential because the male traits that women find attractive are universally shared, give or take some nontrivial broad racial differences. The tautological emptiness of Keith’s two minute hate becomes apparent when we switch genders — women with slender hourglass figures, nice tits and ass, and pretty faces don’t attract a subset of men who resemble one another in unobserved traits that correlate with their tendency to be attracted to pretty women; they attract the *vast majority* of men because female beauty, like male game, is objectively attractive to the opposite sex.

poster asked:

you never talked about how to game cigstach…i’m really curious about what you were going to say

Skip attraction and go straight into comfort building rapport. Tell her you both have a lot in common — the ability to grow thick, bushy mustaches. Share a cig, then go for the kiss, licking the corners of her stache into a handlebar shape with your saliva. Repeat until the love is strong.

omw wrote:

Breaking [game] down into official sub-categories with accompanying routines and choreography is what’s weird.

It’s only weird when you’re aware of it.  😉

Many, many haters wrote:

It’s important to be sincere in a serious relationship. Which you can’t do with game.

I’ll quote commenter Thursday on this:

“Game is necessary for a relationship because attraction is necessary for a relationship and game is what creates attraction for women.  But it is not sufficient and no one ever said it was.”

I’d add that a softened version of game is an important component of any long term relationship. And the belief that game is insincere? Just the opposite. Game is the most effective way for a man to express his deepest sincere feelings for a woman. A man has to advertise his sincere desires. If he doesn’t, women will hardly know the value of his product or the strength of his feelings. And the wrong sort of advertising will send her to another store.

Lisa the typical female hater wrote in response to me:

“a man seen with “bar skanks” as you call them will be more attractive to women than a man with no woman at his side.”

Only to other bar skanks.

A fairly common anti-poon diatribe is the “like begets like” argument. This is how haters attempt to diminish the achievements of their targets of hate. They reside well above that muck, don’t you see. As with most hate, it strikes a superficially plausible note, but in reality is proven utterly false.

I have observed that women’s preselection programming is a blunt algorithm. That is, when a woman sees you with another woman, she does not filter your quality based on your companion’s beauty as perceptively as a man filters for female beauty. You have some wiggle room in your choice of social proof. If you’re in the company of a 5, the power of preselection will work all the way up to 8s, as long as you are seen to be having a good time with your 5. To other women, the fact that you make your pawn female companion smile and laugh is more important in evaluating your quality as a man than is the exact beauty rating of your companion.

Naturally, there are limits on the applicability of women’s preselection mechanism. If your social proof is an obese 2, 10s will not give you much favor. Women are subconsciously much less forgiving of blubber on other women than they are of the prettiness or lack thereof of other women’s faces. A slender 4 with good fashion sense and obvious enjoyment at being in your company will trigger the preselection switches of plenty of hotter women in a bar.

Androgyne MQ wrote:

However, these [beta providers] do not spend all their time whining and bitching on the internet (at least not when they’re young, if they get wiped out in a divorce settlement later on then they do).

Handy betaboy translation: “Whining and bitching” = “Saying stuff that offends my tender sensibilities”.

MQ is Dizzy’s love beta.

Whiskey wrote:

How can MOST GUYS be socially dominant? Answer: they CANNOT BY DEFINITION. Period. Social dominance is like an episode of Highlander. There can be only one. And that one is what women want. Therefore, every guy with the ability to figure this out will race to social dominance. Which ends inevitably in thuggery because that is how social dominance gets settled in the end.

And over on 2Blowhards where they are having freewheeling discussions about the cultural significance of game, Rain And wrote:

PUAs recommend a massive amount of approaches to learn Game.. something like 20 per week, per man.. and this will have two effects:: It means more otherwise unmated women will be absorbed.. leaving less available women for the lucky opportunities which non-competing males depend on.. and it means women will endure more unwelcome approaches and further harden their defenses against approaches from unskilled men, raising the bar for his entry into the field. If it was hard for a below average guy just going by his natural instincts in opportunistic situations before, it will become even harder for him now.

As for men who do compete, it’s worse for them too. It’s an arms race, and if everybody gets better, than no one has more success. In fact every one is worse off, because they now have to work harder and train more to master a skill to get the same exact returns they would have gotten 10 years ago without the extra time, energy, resources spent on Game.

Whiskey and Rain And make the claim that game is a finite resource, zero-sum, and effective only in relation to the existing male status hierarchy because women ultimately want to bang the top male no matter what system he operates within. This therefore means that the returns on game are inherently self-limiting, as women will simply choose amongst the best gamers in a world full of men who have learned game.

It’s an interesting theoretical conjecture. I say theoretical because the adoption by men of game will never, in practice, reach the point where such theoretical objections carry real world weight. Game requires one necessary ingredient in abundance — balls. And most men simply don’t have the balls to (1) drop their defeatist beliefs and adherence to doctrinaire acquired wisdom and (2) take up the teachings of game and actually approach women in any situation at any time.

But is this zero-sum objection even correct in theory? I believe a case can be made that it is not, and the best way to demonstrate this is through illustration by analogy. Imagine if all the world’s women suddenly turned into 10s overnight. Ask yourselves: Would this

a. increase

b. decrease

c. have no effect on

the aggregate happiness of the world’s men? Does anyone seriously doubt this would not be a paradisiacal wonderland for men everywhere? This is because women’s beauty, at least over the timespan of a few generations before long term evolutionary change had a chance to alter the male mental landscape, is an objectively definable trait in which its supply would increase if the number of 10s increased. Only over the very long haul would men’s preferences gradually shift upward in refinement toward uber 10s — new female creatures would then be born representing 11s, 12s, and super ovarian 20s.

In the same way, this is how game works its magic on women. Male game operates like female beauty. The more of it there is in the world, the happier the world’s women will become. Women will feel the same pleasurable feelings from the first man she meets running tight game and the 1,000th man she meets running tight game. Since women are by nature status whores, over a long enough time as evolution molds their daughters’ brains they will begin to preferentially select the best gamers from among the bunch. And they will go on, as they always have, attempting to land the highest ranking man they can afford given their looks, which means seeking the man who brings the full suite of attractive male power attributes to the table.

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Relationship Game: I Love You Too

I get a lot of emails from readers wondering how to “handle” when a woman says she loves you. The question is odd to me, because a woman who is truly in love with you will not suddenly run away if you deviate from the alpha script for half a second. Once you’ve captured a woman’s heart, you’ve got a healthy margin for error. Nonetheless, it is true that, while brief moments of temporary beta regression with a woman who loves you won’t doom your relationship, you have to be careful to avoid slipping into betadom on the regular or there *will* come a time when your woman suddenly loses that little electric zap in her trap for you.

A few thoughts on the matter of a woman saying “I love you”:

1. NEVER be the first to say “I love you” in a relationship. I don’t care if six months of dating has gone by and you both madly love each other to pieces, you will rob a woman of one of her greatest joys in her life if you tell her you love her before she has told you the same. A woman wants to climb up mountains, crawl across broken glass, and struggle into winds of chaos to reach the emotional peak of falling in love with you. You may think you’re doing right by her to level the mountain, sweep clean the glass, and calm the winds when you announce your love before she has, but you’re not. She will resent you if you do. Of course, she won’t tell you this. But I will.
2. You don’t have to be cocky all the time. There is a laundry list of great alpha replies to a woman after she says “I love you”: “Cool!”, “I know”, “Thanks!”, “Hey, it’s me!”, *sly grin* “I didn’t ask”, “Naturally”, “So you’ve finally come to terms with it”, “Well, what did you expect?”, “Damn, I’m good”, “Oh boy, now you’ve gone and done it”, “Awesome! Free back rubs!”, “Hobag say dick in yo mouf?”, etc etc. Use these liberally in the beginning of a relationship when they have the most power to set the right tempo. But learn to rely less on them as the relationship deepens. Overuse of cocky game can deaden its positive impact on a woman’s psyche. She will come to see you as a genuine asshole instead of an attractive asshole. After a few months training your girlfriend, you can minimize your cocky game in favor of sincere game.
3. Sincere game is long haul game. So what do you say to a woman when she says I love you and you want to be serious with her? In my experience, there are three failsafe ways to respond that will send her heart into an ecstatic tailspin for you: (1) Pause for a couple seconds after she has said it, and while gazing intently into her eyes, in a deep, slow voice, say “I love you, too”. Best done without smiling. (2) Say nothing in reply. Instead come close to her face, pause for a few seconds standing before her as if you are about to say something, and slowly pull her lips into yours, kissing her breathless. (3) Tell her I love you too in a foreign language, preferably French, or one of the less well known but still intriguing languages, like Russian.

You should be aware of the possibility that your woman will use I love you like a weapon of war. Sometimes, the more neurotic of the female species will incessantly proclaim their love for you in an attempt to smoke out any beta wishy-washiness or weakness on your part. If you fall into her manufactured drama, pity-poor-me, low self-esteem trap with an endless stream of I love you too’s you will have sealed your fate. Don’t be surprised if the next time you say I love you too she replies “Umm, listen, we need to talk.” The best way to handle a neurotic waif is to ignore 90% of what she says. Just keep replying “That’s great” every time she lavishes attention and love on you. Eventually, even the most dedicated waifs will break. They all have their breaking point. Once she does, you have a love slave for life.

Final note: Don’t be one of those laughable nancyboy beta schmucks who feels the urge to perfunctorily say “Luvya” every fucking time you get off the phone with your girl. It’s pathetically transparent. If the rest of the world can see that, so can your girlfriend. It’s the phone; say your business and save your Luvya’s for those times when they matter. Asking her if she wanted the green or red bell peppers while browsing the veggies in Whole Foods is not one of those times. You’ll feel awkward at first when you stop signing off this way, but believe me your girl will thank you for your principled sincerity.

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A Test Of Your Game: The Judging

I purposely chose an example of bad game in yesterday’s post in the interest of seeing how you would salvage a losing situation. And yes, for those who are wondering, the scenario happened in reality exactly as I described it.

I was glad to see so many commenters correctly identify my pickup scenario as an example of bad game and recognize the uselessness of getting an email as a consolation prize. I was also heartened by how many of you recommended “caveman game” as a solution, and your accurate interpretation of her actions as those of a girl who wanted the McLovin sooner rather than later. The lessons here are taking hold.

Here is a selection of answers from the comments:

Chuck (and many other commenters) wrote:

Do nothing. Go find another woman to game.

This cop-out is becoming a little too ubiquitous in the pickup community. Yes, cutting your losses to hit on fresh meat is certainly better than handicapping yourself with the stink of beta by recklessly chasing after a cold target, but are we men of vision or foot soldiers in the long slog through life? Doing nothing is the reflex of a reformed beta — a greater beta. He knows well enough to refrain from humiliating himself. But an alpha is better than that. He will sometimes reach for the brass ring; for him, doing nothing isn’t always the acceptable response. He takes risks; calculated, informed risks, sure, but risks nonetheless.
Grade: B- (for beta steps)

Antonio wrote:

Since you are mis-hearing her email address try making fun of it, loudly

example:

She says:
“tiffanyAmberTheisen@yahoo”

You say:
“tiffanyAfterBacon!?!”

This is an example of Clever Game. I like Clever Game. It’s been good to me. But its application is limited. In a noisy environment with a target on the move (taking steps backwards) a clever riposte is as likely to earn you a puzzled look from the girl as it is her number. Cleverness is the dance of the subtle. In a rapidly fading pickup attempt, you need more oomph. Remember, in her eyes, you passed none of her tests the way she wanted you to pass them.
Grade: C

razorback wrote:

“You can’t walk away from me just like that. I’m (name)..”

There’s good caveman game, and then there’s less good caveman game. The problem with this salvage operation is you have drawn attention to her negative actions. Never remind a girl that she is

a. walking away from you
b. giving you a hard time
c. acting like a bitch
d. ignoring you

It will only reinforce her unflattering impression of you.
Grade: D

DF wrote:

A woman that signals that much raw sensuality is looking to be carried away in the moment. Such coquetishness requires strong masculinity.

Bingo.

Go after her, grab her by the hand, and without breaking eye contact say, “you’re not walking away from me, not like that.” Pause. Wait for her reaction. If she recoils, forget her. If she doesn’t break eye contact, follow it up with, “lets get out of here.”

Drop the first line, stick with the second line. Keep everything focused on the positive.
Grade: B+

manaconda wrote:

Wait until she turns around, then move up from behind and put your hand on her neck. Move it up into her hair, grab her hair, and slowly lean her back while twisting her to face you, and kiss from a position of total control. Then say “let’s go” and move out.

This is the extreme manifestation of caveman game. When it works, your job is done. You may as well begin unwrapping the condom. The problem with any high risk venture are the odds of failure. 99 times out of 100, given the scenario I outlined, the surprise from behind caveman kiss will get you slapped and/or tossed out of the bar.
Grade: A/F

el chief wrote:

massive fail. she ran game on you.

man leaves first. woman asks questions.

you should have been teasing her and making her laugh, to the point where you get the awkward silence where you know to ask for the phone number (or makeout). you should have been the mysterious one, not her.

but, what’s done is done.

maintain face. regain control. “sorry, the judge says I’m not allowed to use a computer for another 90 days. punch your number in my phone. it will be ok.” hand her phone. if she says no, then “aight”, and walk back to your boys.

And el chief ftw. Well done. This is a guy who knows the score. He approaches with firmness of purpose, calls her out on her BS in an accessibly humorous way without drawing undue attention to her shitty behavior, and then leads her to where he wants her to go.
Grade: A+

Cannon’s Canon wrote:

Grab her by the shoulder and spin her around so she’s facing you. Plant the steel toe in her gut so she keels over, then deliver the Stone Cold Stunner. As she writhes on the ground, give her two middle fingers. Make sure your wingman has been cued to break some glass at this point.

Is this the start of a new seduction school of thought? WWE game.
Grade: E for effort

PA wrote:

Why are the new episodes of “Two and a Half Men” having Charlie go lovey-dovey beta over some chick and seeing a ball-busting female feminist shrink and paying her to become more sensitive?

Because our culture overlords sense the gathering storm on the horizon. Like a stuck pig cornered, knowing their time is almost up, they are thrashing out in feral fury. Expect this elite-driven backlash to intensify in the coming years.
Grade: OT (off topic)

Ben wrote:

If you’re looking for strange, forget this one. If she successfully intrigued you, you step forward, take her hand, take off a ring, a bracelet, a necklace and give it to her. Tell her you want it back but only when she’s ready. If she hooks (unlikely) and asks, “Ready for what?” then you just closed mouth smile.

Hollywood called. They’re missing their Judd Apatow movie.
Grade: D-

MarkD wrote:

Call DA and ask for advice?

DA has terabytes of knowledge to drop.
Grade: DA

Ed wrote:

Forget what she says. It is all in the body language. Tell her to forget about the email. Just offer to walk her home with a stupid excuse.

I like the thinking behind this, but offering to walk her home smacks of beta chivalry. And we all know by now how counterproductive chivalry is in 21st century America. A better way to do this might be to say “Hey, I’m taking off too. You can walk with me and keep me entertained, but don’t get any funny ideas.”
Grade: C+

bongojazz wrote:

When she turned away, either she’s seeing if he’s worth a damn or she’s genuinely done. It’s possible it’s a test and she hasn’t made up her mind yet. I figure, hedge bets. Say

“I didn’t catch that.” loud enough so she can hear, and then turn around like you don’t give a damn.

I sort of like this, but in practice it’s only a small step above “do nothing”. Given the unfolding scene, the chance that she will come up to you to repeat herself are nil.
Grade: C-

Rain And wrote:

She’s walking away rudely. Running up to her is weak, so…..

YOU: [loudly] HEY! [if she doesn’t turn her head for this, game over. if she turns her head continue.] GET THE FUCK BACK HERE. [slyly, of course, not pissy. you’re calling her on her shit]

At this point she either ignores you, if she never cared, or comes back if she did care, but just wanted a little ballsy drama instead of boring phone routine.

YOU: I don’t want your email. Email is for work. C’mon… [grab her hand, lead her over somewhere close, perhaps a little more isolated.. no real point, except to dominate the interaction in a mysterious way. more hushed tone, like a secret] Look, there’s somewhere I always go on my birthday. It’s my ritual. I’m not going to tell you what it is, but it’s close. Walking distance. Five or six blocks.

And then you improvise the destination and backstory. Maybe a monument or another bar. Whatever is close. Just a contrived bounce.

This is solid Salvage Game. Beautiful. By amping up the asshole you virtually wipe clean your earlier betaness. Sometimes, when you have gone too far down the beta road, shock therapy is the only thing that will redeem you in the eyes of your target.
Grade: A

tokyobetagrist mewled:

According to the official story, game is all about controlling women and not letting them control you. If that’s the case, the only solution to this test that’s consistent with the philosophy of game is to do nothing. If you’re going to jump through hoops (I mean even more than usual) just to have sex with this one special woman, how are you any different from “betas?” This is the paradox of game, because you’re always jumping through hoops and always being controlled by women, even as you tell yourself that it’s the other way around.

Spoken like a supercilious eunuch who believes that women should fall into men’s laps, and any effort on a man’s part to attract women only sullies his masculinity. TBG, I have some very demoralizing news for you — no man is exempt from the biomechanical forces of sexual selection. Whether you are consciously aware of it or not, you do what it takes to attract the opposite sex, or you sit in your dank basement apartment hovel spitefully masturbating into the tattered sock of your self-satisfied dogma.
Grade: David Alexander wants to bear your lovechild

poonisgod wrote:

Your love declines. You, thinking little lines around my eyes are fallen lashes, try to brush them off.
I do exfoliate.
In this autumn of my being, parts of me fly, like tossed and wintry-blasted leaves.
I don’t regret their passing.
I must work to make a clear and crystal form.
I, alchemist, and I, philosophers stone,
have sacrificed the fat and froth and fur of youth,
to walk through fire, leap in the dark,
swim inward rivers, pray at a wailing wall.
The wrinkles, sags and greying hair are earned.
You mourn like a child with a broken doll.
Only the core of this crone, was ever real.

When I read this poem
I felt it move
First
to the left
Next
to the right
then up!
The throbbing soul of my love
jutted insouciantly from the waistband of my heart
yearning…
pulsing…
dribbling the pre-cum of my will to merge
with the fleeing of your youth
mourn it not
for its memory
will live on
in my digicam
Grade: Gold star on your forehead for the excellent handle

moonrock wrote:

Toss her your cellphone while she’s backing away.

Odds are you’ll interrupt whatever behavioral script is running through her head and she’ll trip over herself trying to catch it.

What if you have an iPhone or a G1? No girl is worth damaging a quality gadget. Plus, girls can’t catch.
Grade: Think this through

Lisa wrote:

Since you aren’t sure you heard her email right the genuine thing to do would be to cup your hand behind your ear to indicate you can’t hear and make a “come back” motion with your other hand. If she doesn’t walk closer to you then then give her a two-handed “what can I say” shrug and turn your back. If she does come back, ignore her telling you her email. Put your finger over your lips if she keeps saying it to signal her to be quiet. I’m a big fan of mirroring so since she’s been smiling all this time some amused indifference would be good to convey. Keep motioning her closer until she’s back next to you and take it from there.

It just seems to me like this is a situation where you demonstrate you’re in charge or you let her go.

This is very good. It doesn’t happen often, but occasionally a female reader gets it right. Points for its nonverbal simplicity and boldness.
Grade: Cooties

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A Test Of Your Game

It’s time for another test of your game.

You’re enjoying the mild night air on the rooftop of a trendy lounge. In the corner you spot a short-haired, vaguely punkish pixie, with eyes like saucer plates. She catches your look and smiles… lasciviously, under heavy lids. Oh yes, this hellsprite has the right stuff.

A minute later she walks by you. Sensing an opportunity, you interrupt her as she passes: “Hey, what’s making you smile so much?” She locks her eyes on yours, smiles mischievously, and walks right past, slowly, saying absolutely nothing, brushing heavily against your chest along the way. You are intrigued.

Ten minutes later she returns and takes up her previous position near the edge of the roofdeck, seemingly in the company of a mixed group but talking to no one. She is facing outward toward the open night. You move closer to her and order another drink at the bar. Grabbing your fresh drink, you 180 and face the same direction as your mystery girl, standing side by side with her. You are about to say something when she breaks the tension first.

“It’s my birthday today.”

“Oh, really? Happy birthday. Get any awesome gifts?”

“Do you like watching people down below?” She is pointing over the roof edge at a couple crossing the street.

“Only the drunk ones.” Is this girl simply strange, or is she running some kind of female game on you? Whatever it is, you are captivated.

“I live in the neighborhood.” She thrusts her arm up and waves to some imaginary figure on a distant apartment roof. “Over there.”

“Yeah, I do too. Hi neighbor.”

You exchange insights with her about the neighborhood you share. It’s better on the weeknights. People treat their dogs like children. The local coffeeshop is a horrible place to meet attractive strangers. This rooftop has the best view of the President’s bedroom. Not more than a few minutes go by.

Suddenly, she turns to face you completely and rests her hand on your forearm. Silently, still smiling from under her pixie eyelids, she makes intense eye contact. She utters not a peep, nor does she have an expectant look on her face like she’s waiting for you to pick up the conversational slack. Her behavior is incomprehensible to you. You wish she is drunk so you can have a tidy explanation. But, no, she’s in control of herself.

“It’s time for me to go.”

You realize there has not been enough interaction to ensure a solid number close. “Ok. Hey, you’re interesting. Let’s chat again sometime. What’s your number?”

“No, I don”t give out my number.” Her obscenely sensual smile hasn’t dropped and her hand hasn’t left your forearm. “You’re attractive, I think.” The longest three seconds pass. Her eyes are burning holes in yours. “You can have my email.” As she’s saying this, her hand finally leaves your forearm and she begins to walk off.

“What is it?” You don’t have a pen.

She recites her email as she’s taking steps backwards from you. You can barely hear her through the crowd noise, so you’re not sure if you got it right, or if you can remember it later. The moment is disintegrating rapidly.

What do you do?

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Anti-Game

Damian and I were at a multi-floored historic building converted into a lounge (a not uncommon idiosyncrasy of the city) that features the hottest female waitstaff and bartenders in the city.

Damian bumped my elbow and motioned me to look toward two attractive blondes — a 7.5 and an 8.5 — who were standing near us. Two men had just walked up and engaged them in conversation. Both men were, as far as I can tell these things, decent-looking, over 6 feet tall, and in shape. One was older– late 30s, early 40s — and sharply dressed with a dash of gray around the temples. His buddy was late 20s, early 30s, and dressed more casually. The younger guy had a frat boy-ish vibe, while the older guy struck a more sophisticated pose.

Since all four of them were within earshot, I focused my listening attention on the group, occasionally glancing over, so I could enjoy the spectacle of these guys running whatever game they had on the two blondes. When I see a choice setup like this, I take it as an opportunity to observe and learn or, in the case of men with no game, to amuse myself and gawk at the carnage, while positioning for a flanking maneuver.

Approach

The men went straight in, telegraphing their interest from the word “go”. Opened with “Hey, how you guys doing?” Points for boldness, demerits for shitty opener. Even in socially overheated crowded venues, the best approach is noncommittal — from an angle, over the shoulder. Also, it doesn’t hurt to be a little more creative than “How you doin’?”.

Girls’ Reaction

The poor approach didn’t hurt these guys. The girls welcomed them with big smiles and enthusiastic hellos, probably because the men were reasonably good-looking compared to the average man in the place. The older man looked like he was of means.

Body Language

The men registered the girls’ positive reaction and took the beta bait, amping up their energy levels and enthusiasm. This was my first hint that a pickup attempt disaster was looming. The younger guy began grinning ear to ear like an idiot, and bobbing his head up and down each time the girls talked. The older guy maintained a more aloof body language, keeping his back straight and avoiding any “pecking” or leaning into the girls. He didn’t wildly smile like his fratboy buddy. I could see he had more self-control and experience than his younger friend. His economy of words and body movement made him seem the more confident of the two men. If I noticed that, then surely the girls noticed it as well.

Conversation

The men ran what I call Chit Chat Game. This is the kind of conversation you make with someone when you are bereft of anything interesting to say. “What do you think of this place?” “You guys live in the city?” “Hey, the martinis here are really good.” “You guys like to dance?” “Whoa, you’re from North Carolina?” “How about those Tar Heels!” The fratboy latched onto this subject because it was in his comfort zone. “Yeah, you’re a Tar Heels fan? All riiiiiight!! High five!”. He tried to hold the high five with the 7.5 for a second too long, but she dropped her hand fast.

Yes, the guys were actually talking college sports. I could *feel* the initial attraction drain out of the girls, like a nail in a tire slowly letting out air. Their smiles had turned plastic, and they began gripping their drinks tighter and holding them up higher on their chests. The hotter one made a series of quick sidelong surveys around the room.

The older man wasn’t talking as much, but when he did he had a steadier, calmer cadence than his sports fan friend. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t lead and take control of the conversation when it started sputtering into lame sports talk territory. What he did contribute was of the “business interview” variety. More mature than gushing over the Tar Heels to be sure, but still death for pickup.

Escape

Surprisingly, Fric and Frac managed to stay in set for fifteen minutes. I chalked it up to the niceness of the girls — they were very forgiving of horrid game that would have sent the typical urban lawyer chick into massive shit test, ball crushing mode, after suckering the tools for free drinks of course. These two girls must have been from out of town — way out of town.

The 7.5 delivered the cockblock signal to her friend — a thin-lipped entreaty and an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise — but that was all it took for her to get the message.

“Well, we’re going to go upstairs now. See you!” As they turned and slithered away from the men, Fratboy looked over his shoulder at them and in a sickeningly pleading voice moaned “Aww, you guys are going upstairs?? All right, maybe we’ll see you up there!” The girls didn’t bother looking back.

Denouement

Damian found all this the height of hilarity, but also was overcome with an urge to pummel the beta out of these guys. He believes bad game is more nauseating than eating a spoiled enchilada. It really is like rubbernecking at a particularly gruesome car accident. I enjoy bad game in others because it means less competition for me. This is why I support gay rights. I want as many men as possible to feel comfortable embracing the butt pirate lifestyle and thus removing themselves from hetero circulation.

Fratboy and Boring Gent talked amongst themselves, obviously planning a way to reconnect with the girls. Someone needed to be charitable and interject to explain the futility of their situation, but no man’s ego is strong enough to handle that sort of constructive criticism, especially not in the chaos of the field. Instead, we watched them climb up the stairs to meet their by now long gone girls.

We didn’t have the heart to tell them that the only thing upstairs were the bathrooms.

Rebirth

Later, I bumped into the hotter girl on the first level of the club. I smiled at her.

“So, how did those guys do?”

She laughed.

*********

A lot of losers in love insist that “being yourself” is morally superior to “manipulating and seducing” a girl with game. They have an instinctual aversion to anything that doesn’t conform to the beta script of “boy meets girl and sometimes magic happens in a most satisfyingly natural and unforced way, as God intended”. They believe any conscious effort to make oneself more attractive to the opposite sex is inherently dishonest.

They are wrong. Honesty is recognizing that women have different desires and appealing to that. Dishonesty with yourself is ignoring this fundamental fact of the sexes, and selfishly expecting women to be attracted to your principled obstinacy.

What game-hating beta losers don’t comprehend is that the opposite of Game — casual chit chat — can increase a man’s failure rate with women who would otherwise prefer that he not disappoint them so. “Being yourself” isn’t an ethically or strategically neutral stance; it is an unnecessarily negative obstacle to connecting with women in the way they want you to connect with them. Despite what women claim, they would really rather you run some game on them so they can feel those good feelings that are aroused by skilled practitioners of the art of indulging the female psyche. They just don’t want you to tell them you’re running game.

The two girls were happy to be approached by the two men on account of their style and looks. But Anti-Game quickly eroded whatever attraction was there initially. These guys were being themselves, and it cost them dearly. They were “honest” according to the beta playbook, and they were punished for their honesty.

Anti-Game is the equivalent of being an ill-prepared Boy Scout. Anti-Game is to men what going out wearing baggy pants and flannel shirt, no makeup, and greasy, unkempt hair is to women. Sure, you may be good-looking enough to pull some ass despite your lack of game or your figure-concealing unflattering clothes, but you’ll be needlessly limiting your options.

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