I will attend night clubs when my other options are shot for the night, or because my friends have found themselves attracted to these particular venues for the night, but as a gentleman who does enjoy banging women, I would say that I have probably picked up two women in all my time going to night clubs. The pick up culture has this over-exaggerated view of how powerful it is to learn their tricks and then go into night clubs and use said tricks. I believe most worthwhile men who have built interesting lifestyles usually avoid nightclubs if they are looking to get laid simply because all your life experiences cannot be conveyed in an environment too loud and dark to display them.
As much as a girl might get vagina tingles at your push and pull techniques, those techniques do not work when the music is so loud she is blankly nodding in hopes you’ll fuck off. In addition, a lot of women automatically engage in deflecting anyone who approaches them no matter who they are in a night club; I assume this to be some ego thing for them. At this stage in my life, I do not care any-more to dedicate energy in trying to overcome women’s deflections, and simply disengage all together by keeping my approaches at a minimal in night clubs. I would prefer to talk to women in an environment where they are receptive to stimulation beyond EDM and party favours.
Simply, unless you are high energy as fuck and willing to be over-persistent, night clubs are a poor venue to get dates/bangs from. The issue with pick up is that many guys who go into it are not at their core these superfluous party animals, and those who act this way going into pick up material probably do so to over compensate for their lack of self worth (no research on this, just anecdotal observation). That is not to say that you cannot get laid at a night club, but unless you’re willing to put in an insane amount of energy (that is often hampered by alcohol consumption), your chances of getting laid are slim.
Now, there are gentlemen who excel at club game. As I said above, being high energy and over persistent works quite well in the club arena, and a slew of respect goes out to gentlemen who can pull doing this. My argument however is that clubs make poor venues for the gentlemen who do not want to follow this over-the-top narrative. Keep in mind the principle of contrast, and how standing out equates to status. Clubs assume a lot, it is assumed that men will generally go to these places to pick up women, and women and men come to expect this narrative as being normal. Unless you are playing the numbers game quite closely, chances are most women will assume you are like every other single male going the club, and thus you do not stand out from any other male there; poor contrast. However, when you approach women with more direct appraisals in more casual contexts, even laid back bars or house parties, women are less expecting of this and in turn look at you as standing out from most men; high contrast. You lose a lot of contrast going to night clubs.
My counter-venue to clubs are simple: house parties. House parties are the best venues for getting laid. You can talk, you can effectively work the room, and women are not naturally expecting men to approach them sexually (like they often are at a night club), and If all else fails, you can lay back and have interesting discussions with others on an array of topics. Night clubs lack all of these variables.
The second alternative to house parties are lounge bars. While they do carry some of the preconceived notions that clubs do (you’re just there to get laid), you must keep in mind that the women who stick around at these places are often looking for some level of stimulating conversation, so even if their guard is up about your sexual intentions, you can still prove yourself by conveying your interesting persona.
This was originally a post of mine on another gentleman’s blog, but I thought this was a worthwhile topic to discuss since I see a large portion of the manosphere still dedicated to club game. In addition, I have edited and added to this post as I see fit.
People who oppose affirmative consent are being categorized as patriarchal drones and/or closet rapists by many feminists, and I am aware that by trying to be critical of something the feminist movement is currently championing, I too will be potentially labelled as such. However, I am not writing this for feminism, or to even really challenge proprietors of feminism, but I am writing this for the critical minded gentleman who may or may not agree with the push for affirmative consent. For those who have not heard of the current push for affirmative consent, it is the concept that in order for partners to proceed towards sex, the person engaging in sex (the man presumably) must acquire an explicit yes before the passionate encounter can escalate towards sex. Opposer’s to the affirmative consent movement often cling to the grey area argument, and that is that sexual interactions are not cut and dry, and instances such as ‘heat of the moment’ interactions can lead partners to engaging in sex without much forethought, or mixed signals from both parties can lead to partners engaging in sex without fully verbalizing what is happening and lead to terrible implications (see: rape). Many opponents (see: feminism) of the grey area argument view it as a result of men not understanding women and what women want, and view the grey area argument as an ideology fuelled by rape culture. The issue with the affirmative consent argument is that there are flaws to both sides of the debate. Some men do misconstrue obvious signals when trying to obtain sex and this can lead to devastating consequences for both parties involved, but with that being said, many feminists have a large disconnect between sex and the biological realities that drive it. That is why I cannot support affirmative consent, but I can support some variation of cultural understanding between both parties in regards to sex.
EverydayFeminism.Com has a article entitled Debunking the “Gray Area” Myth, and while there are some valid points to be found within this article, there are also some silly ones that need to be addressed. There are three out of six points I agree with on Everyday Feminism’s write up; I agree with the argument that men should not rape because a woman is dressed a certain way; that is reasonable and certainly should considered rape if a man believes he is entitled to that woman’s sugar walls simply because she is dressed a certain way. In addition, if a woman flirts with you, you are also not entitled to sex based on this factor alone. Lastly, being owed sex simply because you are dating does not entitle you to use your girl’s sugar walls freely, and if done forcefully, it is rape. These three points brought up in Everyday Feminism’s article are all points I can side with. Forcing of sex is not right in any circumstance, and that is infact rape. So, this leaves three points that Everyday Feminism brings up that I do not agree with.
Everyday Feminism’s point that, “They kept saying ‘no’ but eventually said ‘yes'” make sense from a non-critical view of human nature because presumably this could be a product of force and the yes was acquired out of brute deception, but that would be removing ourselves from reality. You see, when I was a budding young gentleman of game I encountered a situation similar to this where the female kept resisting and eventually I stopped, and hoped that we could potentially make sticky at a later date. That date never came. I asked a friend who was closer to this female than I was on why she was no longer interested, and my friend responded, “because you weren’t persistent enough.” Now, we could conclude that this is a small fraction of women that do this and hand Everyday Feminism an award in human enlightenment, but in my experience, and the experience of other men, this is not a small fraction of women. Even more confusing is that these same women, when pushed to eventually have sex, will usually continue to have sex with the same person who pressured them the first time. Now of course, because you need to spell it out for feminists or automatically their minds jump to catastrophe (see: rape), if she is clearly uncomfortable by your advances, – moving away, disgusted when you touch her, pushing you away at the slightest motion towards her, and trying to leave but you won’t let her, etc. – but you still force your dick inside, then you are raping my friend. However, if she continues to stay, and accepts your continuing escalation (by physically responding by appearing aroused) despite verbalizing her disagreement with what is happening, then she is enjoying the escalation. Feminists will instantly pull out the, “you are saying women do not know what they want” card, and well, that is exactly what I am saying. This same scenario has happened to me more times than I can count, and approximately zero times was I accused of rape – the majority of these women actively liked me after.
The second point Everyday Feminism brings up is “They didn’t say ‘no’…” Here is a primer to prevent budding gentlemen from rapism: If you force your dick in without any sort of interaction, then it is rape. The issue with this point is that it does not root itself in reality. I have had several instances where the passion was so high after a night of courtship, and it lead the female and I to making out, and as they say “one thing lead to another,” and we ended up having sex. No where in that process did we communicate active consent, it was just assumed. I guess the intervals where the woman asked me “do you have a condom?” implied that I was a vicious rapist and she was asking me to stop, or maybe I am just socially retarded.
Lastly, Everyday Feminism asserts “We were both wasted, but we both really wanted it.” This is a muddy point because Everyday Feminism half implies that there is a normative process of people engaging in intercourse drunk, but again as my handy little primer states: if you force your dick in without any sort of interaction, then it is rape. If she is passed the fuck out, do not do some scumbag shit and rail her, but if she is drunk but coherent, and you also are drunk but coherent, and passion leads you to potential pussy, then go for it sir. However, the issue here is that feminists have a presumption that men are responsible for sex when drunk and even if equally drunk, he is always the victimizer. So I guess Everyday Feminism believes you can circumvent this issue by giving affirmative consent, but again, refer to points one and two, these ideas have no basis in reality in conjunction with female desire. The logic of making sure you are in the clear to engage in intercourse is sound, but it goes against female desire.
Women want to be desired, and there is a masculine component, that whether or not it is socially conditioned or biologically programmed, that states men lead and women follow. Men asking if they can proceed with the sex that both parties so dearly want is not masculine, that is putting the realm of sexual desire as a power women have control over, and thus this negates their interest in proceeding with sex. The only way I could say that Everyday Feminism is right in their support of affirmative consent is if you as a man are so socially retarded that you cannot decipher a woman being uncomfortable vs. a woman being primed and ready for sex. So, then of course, affirmative consent has a place for a small fraction of socially retarded men, but the majority have a different idea about sex, and the model of affirmative consent does not fit into that idea at all. Alternatively, I should ask Everyday Feminism why the onus is not for women to lead sexual interactions from now on? Why do they not gain male consent? By this logic, I could argue those times a woman pulled my cock out and started riding me, WITH ZERO CONSENT (brb, PTSD), raped me. Such arguments would sound silly, but they fit in line with the eqaulist ideology that affirmative consenters feel is gospel… or maybe feminism has been working towards making women immune to any sort of judgement or punishment when it comes to sexual choices… No, that cannot be it, I’m just crazy.
Safe gaming gentlemen.
I dropped out of graphic design in College to work as a labourer on a construction crew for a year and a half, and have continued working construction as a summer job. The rough job really changed me. Even though I was taking active steps towards overcoming my fears during my early college days, construction helped build character that I would not have gotten anywhere else. In some ways construction is the best thing that ever happened to my game.
I needed summer work and my friend was able to land me a job on a construction crew. My friend shared some encouraging words the day before work, “This is a hard fucking job. You’ll probably quit, but at least it’s something for now.” Nice. It was hot as fuck my first day of work, and I ran to meet the gentlemen I was going to work with. Winded and sweating I enter the work truck, and nervously shake these calloused gentlemen’s hands. They tell me what to expect on my first day, and I already feel anxious as fuck. I bust my ass the first day, confident that I did a terrible job; they keep me employed though, and so I kept coming back. I enjoyed the hard work, a lot. Being raised by an elitist grandmother, I always though construction was below me, but after my first week part of me realized that this line of work was exactly what my life was missing.
Truth be told, I was intimidated as fuck by these construction gentlemen. I never felt like I was good enough to be on their crew, and their whole way of speaking and working was tough. I would have been 18 or 19 when I started, and working with older gentlemen was foreign to me. When they made fun of me, as construction gentlemen do as a way of endearment to their fellow man, I actively defended myself and got angry even. The summer passed and I decided to drop out of school to continue work in construction. I ended up getting accustomed to the construction banter, I started to turn the brutally hard work into menial routine, and most important, I got over my anxieties through this process. Construction changed that for me most; situations that seemed scary or rugged, construction prepared me for. Working such a hard job with a lot of dangers really made me approach life differently. Construction hardened me in a way other experiences hadn’t, and while I can credit the raw dangers of the work environment for that, I also owe it to the guys I worked with. Having a bunch of grown men constantly throwing banter back and forth, or laughing at stupid shit on a day to day basis, really makes you look beyond the menial nature of other embarrassing situations or environments you face in your life outside of construction. If you do something truly embarrassing at work, you bet your ass everyone is going to laugh at you, but that’s how you become hardened, because you realize that certain situations are out of your control and you move on from them stronger; that’s what construction did for me.
Not to mention, construction shifted me from a 160 pound pudgy beta (I did work out, but not to this extent) to a 190 pound foot ball player-sized gentleman. The pure athleticism this job required leaked into all facets in my life. I’m no longer content during my off season sitting around, I now feel that I am forever active; I have to work out on my days off, I have to go for long walks, I have to challenge myself physically at all costs since working construction. Being physically active all the time not only gave me a physical boost, but a mental one (I have to assume this is due in part to higher testosterone production), and knowing that I was able to shift myself into an athletic gentleman – a gentleman I would have never considered before construction – made me realize academics and other activities in my life could be improved by hard work.
Hanging off of a rope while carrying 200 pounds on your shoulder really makes situations like approaching women seem trivial. Facing bigger gentlemen who look like they have never worked a day in their lives seems trivial. Falling off a sky-high beam because you were doing something stupid makes getting laughed at because you tripped over a curb seem trivial. The more I worked construction, the more I realized that a lot of average fears anxious people such as my prior self had, were trivial. Having that edge in understanding your fears really pushed me to challenge life head on.
During a presentation in school I stood on the table to add extra emphasis to the anthropological study we were presenting. The table slide right from under me, I landed on my back in front of a class of one hundred. Some laughed, and some offered support. I got up, and without a word acknowledging the stupid tumble I took, I continued with my presentation.
If this was two years ago, before I started construction, I would have been a nervous mess.
I seem to post my later game adventures on Roosh V Forums, but I realize that the write ups are good enough that you gentlemen who follow my adventures might find these exciting. So I’ve compiled three of my most recent ones for your reading pleasure. ALL IN ONE PACKAGE. (These are the original posts from RVF, but I’ve fixed various spelling mistakes in my writing and added some details that I forgot in my initial write ups).
Fucking On The Park Dock
I’m wasted boys.
I ended up going to the park with my close friend and we drank until midnight. This gorgeous blonde (8.5/10) and her hippie roomate come over and mistaken me for her weed dealer. I tell her to sit down because we needed a female opinion on some bullshit argument we were having. She bought it. Classic pick up bullshit. She vibes with us and I can tell she is taking a liking to me; her room mate is all sorts of weird – he has some weird protective crush on her. I keep joking with her, telling her ridiculous things, and taking none of her shit tests seriously; “You think you’re so attractive, don’t you?” I smirk, “well that’s what my mother says.” After awhile of building rapport with her, I write on the notes app in my phone: “Come for an adventure on the town. My apologies, but your boyfriend seems wasted; I’m sure the night will be fun.” She laughs as I pass her my phone, and writes back “first off hes not my boyfriend and second I don’t have ID.” I write back “ID is irrelevant, come have fun.” She whispers in my ear “Lets go soon.” I don’t expect this part: she gets up, looks at her weird beta bitch boy room mate and tells him she’s leaving and he gets mad that she’s leaving with two random dudes she just met; she says loudly “I don’t fucking care if you have feelings for me, get over it. I don’t like you like that. I’m single, and I’m going to have fun.” I’m feeling mediocre about her weird actions, and I walk away with my friend. I want more liquor. She follows and apologizes for the scene she made. I bring my friend and her to a quaint little bar and she happens to know some people there. I leave her with her friends and have some more drinks with my friend. My friend and I are having a good time. She sits beside me and tells me that she finds me really attractive. I don’t say a word. I continue flirting with her, and I decide to challenge her to a thumb war. She laughs, accepts, and I beat her at the thumb war. She starts giggling and I lean in and make out with her.
We leave the bar, and I tell my buddy we should run a train on her. He tells me she’s not feeling him. Turns out my drunken judgement is off, I don’t think she is feeling him. I give him cab fare home and tell him I’m sorry he couldn’t crash at my place. I end up telling her about a unique spot I love to sit at night at. She tells me she’s excited to see it; she goes on again about how attractive I am. I take a short cut to my magic spot by going through an alley way. We stop in the alley way and I finger her while making out with her. We continue on her way, and I bring her to my magic spot: it’s a dock in the park I smoke cigars at some time. It’s late and I start making out with her. She is giggling and I start to finger her again. She keeps asking if she’ll get caught, I tell her “who cares, take your pants off” and then grab her neck and start kissing her lips. She takes her pants off, and I start to rail her. The police are literally flashing their lights across the dock from us, but I don’t think they see us. Nerves got the best of me and I end up letting her cum and pull out without busting my nut. She giggles and kisses me and then we get dressed quickly and leave.
I bring her home intending to bust my nut, but she starts freaking out that her hippie room mate is home and will be upset that she went out with a guy. As we’re walking some gentleman screams in my direction, but I ignore it. The gentlemen keeps screaming, “HEY FUCKER! I’M IN THE ARMY. I’M TALKING TO YOU.” His tone pissed me off, and I stop in my tracks and tell him to come here if he has an issue. I stand my ground and she starts crying in my arms. He feels bad that he made her cry, apologizes and goes on his way. She says, “I didn’t want to see you hurt someone or get hurt. You were scary!” I only knew this chick for four hours at this point, and she acted like my girlfriend or something. Kind of weird. She insists she gets my Facebook, but I tell her I don’t believe in it and insist she emails me instead. I give her a bogus email and go on my way.
What an exciting night.
The Twenty-Nine Year Old Party Slut
This adventure made me realize time and time again that late twenties women are easy as fuck to game; presumably some biological realization that their sexual power is fading.
Her body was immaculate, but lost points for a mediocre face. A solid 8 out of 10. The second I walked into the party she was eye fucking me. I brought a 40 of olde english and she eventually comments on it, “are you really drinking those? that’s so high school!” I smirk and we cheers. I walk away from her, but she eventually follows and asks me how I know everyone there. I switch gears and I keep asking her “why” questions about herself. Somehow the topic of ages comes up and I ask her to guess how old I am. She says “31, 32?” I tell her she’s way off, and that I’m only 24. She is 29 but she seems disappointed at my age. I ask her where her walker is, and she laughs, then I ask “so how was world war 2?” She says “I heard you make the joke to someone else earlier in the night, it wasn’t funny then, and it’s not funny now.” I bounce back, “yeah, well there goes two nights of joke writing, wasted. But, atleast my mom thinks I’m funny” (I get a lot of mileage out of this silly “at least my mom thinks…” joke). She laughs and at this point we’re both fairly drunk. I bring her to the basement where she is staying the night, we talk about some stupid shit, and I end up cutting her off and making out with her.
She removes her shirt and bra, and I don’t know why this chick wore such a tight bra because her breasts are massive. This large breast size is made sexier by the fact that she has such a slim stomach and waist. I slap a jimmy on and I start fucking her. I tell her she has such a tight pussy and body (she did). She swoons to this statement, “It’s so nice to hear a younger guy say that” (she must have repeated a variation of this statement five or six times); chick must be realizing her sexual market value is going to plummet soon. The fact she didn’t shave her pussy though has me assume that she hadn’t been fucked in awhile. I continue railing her, she starts riding my cock, and like we are in college or some shit, she’s drinking a beer as she’s riding my dick. She gets off of me, takes my condom off, and then she proceeds to deep throats my dick. Not boasting gentlemen, but my cock is pretty big, so the fact she managed to take it down her throat to the base of my cock was an impressive feat. She gets back on top of my dick, but I forget I don’t have a condom on, but at this point her pussy feels even more incredible. I end up telling her to get on her back, and I bust in her mouth, she swallows it without even flinching. What a slut.
I know some of you gentlemen are opposed to condoms, but I am in a long term relationship, so out of respect I wear a condom if I’m going to engage in extra curricular activities. So her getting on top of my dick for that little bit minus a condom was kind of shitty. Regardless, I was actually under the impression she was the same age as me, but as I said above, makes me realize that late twenties women are easy as pie to fuck. While I did “game” this girl with traditional methods, it was definitely made easy by the fact that unlike a younger twenties girl, this girl showed active and immediate interest which always kept interaction in my favour. This pattern has followed with any other late twenties woman I’ve banged as well.
Chicks values be fading.
The Out of Town Five
Well. I railed some broad… She was a 5/10 at best. Not the proudest moment as I have never dipped below what I would deem a 6…
Met her on Tinder and she drove an hour away just to see me. Her profile pictures were devious. Must have been old pictures on her profile. When I sat in her car, I scan her body, and she did not look slim like in her picture. Her chunky demeanour seriously brought her rating from a hard 7 to a solid 5. Despite my hard demeanour gentlemen, I am a reasonable person, so part of me felt obligated to spend some time with her since she invested time to drive so far *cue beta bells.* Cute face, nice perky large tits, but a really chunky body – fuck it I figured I might as-well get something for my time, and so I went for it. I railed the fuck out of this chunky chick. Excuse my fragile ego, but I have never banged a girl lower then what I deemed a 7. So fucking a really chunky chick felt slightly embarrassing, but I was horny and she was available; she definitely wanted to get her pussy pounded.
So, I did porn star shit: deep throat, hardcore choking, spitting on her, slapped her, even slipped it in her ass – she’s never done anal. She loved it; what a whore. So I ended up busting a nut in the condom, and then made her eat it. I tell her to put on a movie while I smoke my cigars in her apartment. She puts on some terrible romantic comedy I entirely forget the name of. Regardless, I was still horny ten minutes later so I got her to give me a tit job and suck my dick for an hour. I nutted on her face and got her to clean my cock up after with a fresh towel.
As the cum sat on her face she tells me, “I’ve never had anyone treat me like that. That was incredible.”
In some way, after this adventure I was weirdly motivated to approach more then ever, but also oddly satisfied with the encounter.
Way back when, when I was just a little Route Backwards, I tried this whole game thing. Yeah, that game thing that was about talking to women and hoping that with or without a bottle of whisky their toned legs would spread so your cock could bust it’s seed into the warm wet confines of a females reproductive organs. I have a slew of early game stories, that star me, my delicious friend Heineken, my cock and the women that my cock told me to talk to. However fine Gentleman Smoke reader, these stories are not without hurdles and failure, and are loaded with anti-game, but it is those hurdles and failures that brought me to being the person I am now, a gentleman of game. I will run this series of Early Game Adventures to highlight my failures as a means to understand common pitfalls many gentlemen have in game.
The Halloween Attempts
I had read bit and pieces of Double Your Dating at this point, and I would have been a freshly turned ninteen year old gentlemen here, but with my level of confidence at this point I was still stuck on the pedastalization of any woman who even looked at me, but turns out liquid courage said fuck you to the pedastal, and instead, said hello to awkward backhanded compliments.
It’s Halloween and I’m at this small, yet classy, little bar. I’m sipping on my delicious Heineken and situated in a high traffic seating spot that just so happens to have flocks of women coming and going. Some cute blonde females sit next to me, but her friend left for whatever reason friends leave their friends behind for, and as I’m trying to muster up the courage to say something witty to her (i.e. drink more Heineken), she beats me to the punch and asks me a question I don’t remember, it was something trivial but I was excited that female talked to me first, so I continued making small talk; I bored the fuck out of her and she left.
At this point I realized that failure was not that bad, and I had one too many pints of that delicious Heineken nectar, and I told myself I was going to really try hard with the next girl who sat near me. In Halloween spirit I look to the left of me and see a group of women walk in wearing skimpy Halloween outfits with some dressed as cats, and others dressed as slutty cops. How original. Of course, my beautiful choice of seating leads these women to sitting right beside me. The girl closest to me, who is dressed as a cat by the way, sits down and instantly starts looking through her phone. She is sipping a martini, it looks delicious. Instead of little RouteBackwards commenting on how delicious said martini is, and how he appreciates her fine taste in three dollar martinis, RouteBackwards Jr. instead awkwardly says, “Your costume is weird.” The trembling in RouteBackwards Jr.’s voice was the mark of an amateur, and her cat like instincts could smell Backward’s weakness, she looks disgusted, turns to her friend and then stares at the wall ahead of her and stently says, “Ok.” Little Backward’s is not a quitter though, no, he is a reflection of Heineken’s stumbling narrative, and Little Backwards chimes in quickly, “What are you supposed to be?” Cat lady looks noticably awkward and annoyed, she forcefully says, “an animal.” Backwards Jr is lost in a cloud of Heineken, and responds with the most charming response his alcohol flooded brain can think of, “What’s that?” She and her friends walk away.
Little Backwards kept drinking himself into a anti-game stupour for the rest of the night.
Things I Learned This Night:
– Don’t force interactions to the point of killing them. The issue I had at this point was always forcing conversation with the hopes that the girl would not leave. While some gentleman may disagree, it IS ok to force conversation IF you feel like you have not built a strong enough connection at the point that the conversation is going, but you do know there is a connection. In this case, there were no connections, other then mine to that delicious Heineken brew.
– Don’t be negative off the jump. With the second lady that I spoke to this night, I said a remark that was pretty rude. While it is easy to blame Heineken, which is absolutely delicious by the way, this is lame game that is only going to ruin your chances for future pussy access.
– Heineken is delicious, but also reeks of anti-game. Alcohol is a good game booster in certain situations, but for the most part, and especially at this point in my game, it will ruin your chances. I was not able to calibrate where alcohol fit best with my game at this point, so I was overdrinking in hopes of getting over approach anxiety, striking out, then refelcting on my strike out’s and concluding that I would never get good enough at game because all I could recall in my game experiences were drunken strike-outs. However, now, if I drink it’s to stay tipsy, and keep juggling that feelin. Back then though, and the same fate for many other RouteBackwards minded gentlemen, is to keep drinking until anxiety goes away, but with that feeling of anxiety disappearing, anti-game takes it’s place. Then again, I do love Heineken more than most women, so if you are content with Mr. Heineken, then by any means, stick to that delicious option.
FUCK BITCHES, DRINK HEINEKEN.
I’ve gotten quite a few emails over the passed two months and while not to be rude to the other gentlemen who emailed me, a lot of game issues you are having can be learned about by reading my prior posts (such as the arguing with women post… you know who you are sir), so I’m going to tend to the latest email I got as it happens to be more particular and a bit more of an abstract problem this gentleman is having (I have kept his information private of course).
MR. CHRIS’ EMAIL:
Yo GS, love the blog and have a question regarding a personal relationship of mine. A nice gal I met Monday has looked me up on facebook, although I never told her to (on a friday night no less). I met her monday night randomly, we walked around town and I escalated too quick, within 90 minutes of meeting her I was outside her apt trying to make out with her (a mistake I guess, although she did kiss me). I didn’t expect to hear from her though because she went home and didn’t invite me in. Actually told me to leave and that I was a ‘predator’. I said ‘what are you?’, she replied ‘a sheep, an innocent sheep’. i said ‘i like sheep…’ and she said get out.
Well sir, physically escalating early on is not always a bad thing. It is better to be more daring and bold then to not escalate at all, and it is better to be more daring and bold because it adds a level of excitement to the interaction that she is not expecting, especially early on, regardless of what you might think, females take boldness over blandness, and even if she was not feeling sexually aroused at that moment, as long as you were shameless about your bold approach she will hold you in high regards over the other bland gentlemen she encounters.
The only issue I see is over staying your welcome, and while the word predator seems quite harsh considering you seemed to have reciprocal sexual interactions (her kissing you back), this might have been her way of putting her last minute resistance to your sexual advances on over drive because she does indeed find you attractive but also realizes that you have only “just met her.” Now, unless she was pissed and said “GET OUT!” (which I’m not certain of) – and she was not call you a predator in a way that signified ‘eww creep,’ but ‘well then, you’re a predator huh?’ in a curious but slightly flirtatious way – then I’m certain you still have a chance, and that chance is contingent on whether or not you play your cards right. Just an additional thought as I repost my email, I personally find statements such as myself being a ‘predator’ to be incredibly rude, no matter who you are, so my response might have been a bit more harsh, such as “you’re one of those girls huh?” followed by me saying nothing more and walking away.
If she is truly offended by your sexual advances, and you will know this by her subsequent interactions and responses to how you act, then tell her that you are not normally like that and that you got carried away in the moment because you felt close to her in the moment.
Additionally, there is no definitive answer on how to not fuck it up because I am not there interacting with her myself and of course, there are far more variables to your interactions with her. However, I can tell you, play it slow, keep interest strong and absolutely do not apologize or half heartedly tell her that you are ‘not normally like that,’ unless all else fails.
Regardless, what can you lose? I understand she seems special, but so do other females, and if she’s not willing to see passed an entry level stumble that you feel you may or may not have made, then she was not so good for you after all, right?
Keep me posted, and I hope all works out for you sir.
Over at the Roosh V Forums there has been much discussion about the drug Theanine, and their own experiences. It sounded interesting enough, and upon some Google-based research it did not seem to have any negative side effects. So I mustered up twenty-hard earned dollars and went down to the GNC and bought generic a brand L-Theanine. For those who do not know what Theanine is, Theanine is supposed to promote relaxation, stop anxiety and make you feel all around good; preliminary research supports Theanine having said effects as well.
So after reading all the pro-theanine write ups on the internet, and all of the gentlemen who seem to claim benefit as a result of theanine, Mr. Backwards decided to take the plunge himself.
I started small, just out of my natural fear of drugs being more powerful than they usually are, and popped 100 milligrams worth of Theanine. Within a half an hour or so, I felt a sense of calm and great focus. The high felt similar to the lack of inhibition I felt during drinking, minus the actual negative effects that come with drunkenness.
I must add, I did drink a cup of coffee with the 100 milligrams I took. I also drank alcohol about an hour later, which to my surprise, it felt harder to get drunk, and when I was hitting the stage of drunkenness, I felt more alert. However, I did get intoxicated to the point of incoherency later into the night…
I woke up with a shitty hang over, but for the fuck of it, I decided to try some Theanine. This time I took 200 milligrams, and drank two cups of coffee. Instantly I felt a lot better. It almost felt like I never drank the night before. Dope. The high however, did not feel as intense as the first day I took Theanine, but I still felt similar effects.
I took another 200 milligrams, and I went to a bar – minus the drinking – around 9-10 PM and made a couple approaches. I did not feel anxious during these interactions, but in a weird way, the calmness I felt almost pushed me away from being motivated enough to care about speaking to these women. I was content hanging out with gentlemen around me, or speaking to the construction gentlemen occupying the bar, than I was with actively trying to get laid.
I took 200 milligrams of Theanine in the afternoon, and decided to sit down and work on some music. I spent two hours or so working on music, but it felt like ten minutes. The work was not sloppy either, but incredibly focused and some of the best I’ve done in awhile. Nice.
I went out for a walk after, and made a couple approaches on my way to the bank. I felt very confident and calm, and did not worry about the results as much as I normally do. Grabbed a number. Nice.
Theanine DOES do the things most people claim, but I would argue, if you have awful social anxiety, are a boring person or simply do not have motivation to approach women, this drug will not change any of that. I think Theanine is just a good social booster for those who have average to good social skills already, and for those nights I do not feel like drinking to be social, Theanine is a good alternative. If you still have a lack of social skills and general anxiety about basic issues in your life, while I think Theanine will help, my experience has lead me to feel like the high is not powerful enough that it will stop an underlying social issues you have all together like some pro-theaniner’s would have you believe.