I like feminine women. I like women who enjoy doing feminine things like taking care of the home, women who laugh with a girly energy, and women who get excited about children. Something about that, to me as a man, excites me. While most of my reports will have you believe that I fuck a lot of women who aren’t the feminine definition that this write up is about, I do spend a considerable amount of time with feminine women, and any level of time I invest in a woman beyond sex is with the feminine ones. Don’t get me wrong, women who challenge the feminine roles fulfil a certain sexual niche for me in that they are usually good one night lays, but unlike feminine women, my time spent courting them beyond sex feels wasted. With the feminine vs. non-feminine dynamic however, comes where most people assume sexual enjoyment is most different. However there is one thing as a budding young gentleman of game that shocked me: women love to fuck. I, like most men, assumed the more feminine the woman the less sexual the woman, which is true on it’s surface, but not at it’s core; women are just as sexual as men are in many ways, but different forces compel them to act a certain way to the outside world.
With feminine women it is usually traditional morals that compel them to appear as wholesome. With non-feminine women, it is usually permissive parenting and feminist ideals that lead them to appear less wholesome. These dynamics serve their own purpose for the up and budding gentleman of game, and that is the more wholesome a woman, the more you will need to invest in having sex with her, and the less wholesome a woman, the less you will need to invest yourself in having sex with her; basic game reiterated. However, beyond investment of time, at their core, both spectrum’s of women share the same traits of what they enjoy sexuality, and that is being desired in a very selfish way.
Now when I say a “very selfish way,” automatically the evil woman narrative takes place in the minds of many gentlemen of game, but I do not believe women to be evil but hard-wired by their emotional compasses and with that compass they make their decisions; that’s why game blogs exist so you can navigate these compasses accordingly. No one (except feminists) call men evil for being hardwired to selfishly seek out certain sexual traits of women, and with that, I do not consider women evil for being controlled by their own selfish sexualities. I believe it was Baumeister who stated that women are the gatekeepers of sex, and therefore hold a lot of power over men in a sexual economy. Men provide women with certain traits (strength, charm, financial stability, etc.), and women respond in turn by giving them sex. I think the most potent of these traits that does not change radically over time for women, is masculinity. A lot of gentlemen of game point to the 50’s as being a time when women took men more seriously and thus “nice guys” could thrive, but I disagree. The men of the 50’s era were still men, and built a system that rewarded women for being good wives and mothers, and punished them for straying from that narrative; this was raw masculinity rewarding raw femininity. Things have obviously changed, and feminine women of today are echoes of their traditional parents, and non-feminine women are loud speakers for a new movement that attempts to redefine femininity (see: feminism). So, masculinity is the trait that women, feminine or not, desire most, and women want to be desired by masculine men.
When women read romantic novels you would be hard pressed to find a novel about a insecure skinny nerd who is the lead male in the novel. Normally these novels include a mysterious lead who displays some level of raw masculinity that she literally cannot resist. Shifting from the romantic novel we can look towards music. The popular songs amongst women is typically about a high status man (see: the rich ass singer singing the song) who desires a girl that he just MUST have. Even on the flipside of things, when a woman is making music, Taylor Swift for example, it is about that man who got away, or the man she loved dearly but is no longer going to speak to, etc. Women make up large demographics who enjoy those styles of music because it appeals to a very selfish part of them, and that is being desired romantically.
When you as a man can be reflective of that desire that a woman feels when she listens to shitty Taylor Swift songs, or when she reads romantic novels, you will unlock something very special in her, and that is her true sexual nature. When a woman is unlocked in this way, you learn something profound: women love to fuck. When I speak to some gentlemen about a wholesome girl I convinced to try anal or pushed to have a threesome, they seem dumbfounded. “She didn’t seem like that type of girl” is the typical response I get. The thing is, this “type of girl” ideology is silly, because I am convinced that once I make a girl feel that lust associated with desire, after a bit of time, sexually, she will be whatever “type of girl” I want her to be. The truth is women find all sorts of sexual fantasies and oddities just as exciting as you do, but the more wholesome the girl the less likely she is going readily express this to you or the outside world.
An old high school crush of mine and I started talking years after I got over my fear of speaking to women. After awhile I had finally bedded her. Sleeping with her was when I really started to understand the true sexual nature of women. She was one of the wildest sexual partners I ever had, and afterwards I asked myself, “who did I just fuck?” I could have never imagined that she was into sex like she was when I was in high school. I used to think that only the less-wholesome women could fuck the way she did. She certainly still seemed wholesome. Obviously I pushed for a lot of crazy shit with her, but I realized after this that no matter what woman you are having sex with, once you have unlocked, she will respond sexually in ways you never imagined. Some men initially respond to women having the same sexual desires as men as being proof that they are all whores; I think that is a brash way of putting it. Instead, this is the secret about women that for me, made them that much more exciting.
The men who enjoyed sexual success in high school with an array of women did so because of their understanding of the true sexual nature of women. They knew that wholesome or not, any girl enjoyed the sexual exploration and perversions that they did. When I talk to my more conservative beta bitch boy friends about my sexual escapades, they respond in shock that a woman who they thought was “so nice” would partake in such a thing. These beta bitch boys have not unlocked their sexual partners, and will forever see women as something they deep down inside are not. Meanwhile guys like me who understand that women truly enjoy sexual experiences beyond missionary will continue to enjoy the sex life I want.
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.
I remember a female friend of mine back in high school told me I was ugly. She told me I was a nerd and that maybe one day I would be attractive. Maybe. That lingered with me, and that pain followed me for a long time. I remember feeling a crippling anxiety take over me. I went to my house, sauntered past my mother, went into my bedroom and balled my eyes out. I remember going to sleep right after my cry-fest and waking up with a outlook I did not want to believe: I was a fucking chump; some lame mother-fucking clown was what I became to women. I hit rock bottom, my confidence plummeted for awhile here, more than it already was, but something changed inside me. I was fucking pissed. Not only at her, but at myself, and at my station in life.
During my high school year, I wasn’t unpopular, but I wasn’t the guy girls were swooning over either. The girls who showed interest in me were just as awkward as I was, not to mention they were far from lookers. I suffered from crippling anxiety, getting up in the morning and knowing I’d have to face people made my stomach turn. This anxiety became a shitty cycle however, because I felt like over talking and being obnoxious would alleviate the anxiety, and when someone would call me out for being annoying as fuck, I would linger on that persons comments for months, and this would make my anxiety worse; this same cycle continued to repeat itself throughout high school. I remember a girl asking me a basic question, a girl who I had only spoken to a handful of times prior, and I responded with “your mom” because I thought this would get her to laugh and like me. She looked confused, and told me “you’re weird.” I remember lingering on that feeling of being called weird for almost a year, and wondering what it was I was doing wrong with women, and people in general. See, at this time anxiety was not something I understood beyond it being a natural state of who I was; this state kept me in a rut of fear and awkwardness. That girl who called me ugly though, she really helped put things into a different perspective, she made me realize that everything I was doing was wrong, that my approach of being obnoxious and over talkative was not attractive, that my slender frame was weak, my ideologies were weak, and my overall approach to life, was weak.
I woke up from that nap, and realized I needed to change. It wasn’t an over night process, this took years for me. One of the first things I did was quit this silly vegetarian diet I had been on for almost ten years, which turned out to be one of the best choices I have ever made; at this point I always worked out, but starting to get more protein intake from meat sources made me rapidly bulk up. Within less than a year, I went from a scrawny little guy to being large and muscular. This change in size built a level of confidence I didn’t have before, and I started becoming less fearful of others. In addition to these body changes, I started focusing on my style. I bought more fitted clothes, wore nice shoes, and ditched the glasses. Ditching the glasses, like becoming a meat eater again, was a paramount change. Turns out the same frames I wore since I was ten up until that point really narrowed my face out, and made my eyes look weird. Wearing contacts showed off my eyes, and started to give my face a more shapely look. For the first time in my life, I felt attractive. Fresh off my new found confidence, I started to realize that all these ideas I had about people and the world were wrong; I started to face things head on and when I did, I realized my fears were irrational. The more I feared something, the more I pushed myself to approach it. Now, while the physical changes helped, this battle was still mostly a psychological one, and even with approaching situations head on, I still had the lingering insecurities that I was not good enough, that I was ugly, that I was weak. It sounds weird, but reading seemed to help me get over these insecurities. I started learning many social-oriented subjects (Psychology, Endocrinology, Criminology, etc) on my own, feeling like I was becoming a better human each time I discovered something new about these subjects, because I realized I was able to relate a lot of these ideas to myself.
Still, it was not enough just to become more physically attractive and more intelligent, and while what I’m about to say may sound unconventional, I needed validation. I started getting female attention for the first time in my life at around 19. I remember staring into her eyes fantasizing about how much I wanted to fuck her, we made out for awhile, and I started undressing her. She stops my advances, looks at me, and tells me “You’re really hot, but I don’t want you thinking I’m easy.” I know this seems trivial, but hearing that a girl thought I was hot, it became an addiction. It became an addiction to know I was attractive, to know I was worth it. Of course, the issue here is that it’s easy to get into a rut of only ever being valuable when people give you value, and that’s what happened for a time. I think though, I needed that time to build myself up to the person I am now. In a way, I needed to get the validation that I wasn’t a loser from every girl I met in order to get over the invalidation of the first girl who called me ugly.
I saw the girl who called me ugly a couple years after I set my change in motion. I remember thinking to myself, “I’ve progressed so much, do you think she’ll call you those things now? Do you think she’ll comment on how much you’ve changed?” I spoke to her briefly, expecting her to comment on my large frame, my confident posture, and tasteful style, and she did not say anything about any of these changes. In fact, she was completely indifferent to my changes. I left and realized something profound, that moment that set all of these moments into motion, was insignificant to her. A moment that triggered positive moments for myself, meant nothing to her. This realization was the final puzzle piece in getting over myself, and realizing validation meant nothing. I finally saw that validation was nothing, and that you can only count on yourself for happiness.
I think back to that day of that girl calling me ugly, and ask myself how I would handle something like that if it happened now?
I’d give her a cold stare, and move on with my life.
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.
Women who argue with you are in some way shit testing you. Your dear girlfriend, weird female friend or sweet little co-worker, are all shit testing you when they argue. They are seeing if you are up to snuff. Seeing if they can demonstrate some control over you, or if you care. The issue when women argue with men is that they enter the realm of intellectual debate, and most men want to believe that we can equally argue with other women because on the outset they appear to have the same mental workings that they do. Sadly, once you start to learn more about women, or deal with more women, you will realize that women are only as strong as their beliefs, and men – most men any-ways – are only as strong as the knowledge they have gained. If a woman believes something to be true, despite the fact that she is presented with the facts, she will still believe what she believes to be true by only seeing what she wants to. How does a man (you) of high intelligence, great looks and gentleman charm overcome a woman when she argues with your flawless logic?
Argue Once and Move On
When a woman starts arguing, and lets say said woman argues with something you feel passionately about and are overly knowledgeable about, you should state your argument once and move the fuck on. Why do this and not continue arguing with her? Well, like I said in my opening sentences, women only believe what they want to believe. However, a great side stepping method of showing her that you do not consider her your level intellectually is to state your argument once and if she responds with something to argue your great points, ignore her by saying “Ok, anyways *insert conversation topic of choice here.*” Gold. Many gentlemen new to game however, find this method a bit tricky as they are still learning to control their emotions and when a argument shifts to being heated in the slightest they might take the bait and continue to argue. I would argue (aha!) that this method of argue-avoidance should be used by gentlemen with a good baseline level of confidence.
Do Not Take Her Arguments Seriously
Say your date will not shut the fuck up about how it is awful that you like to eat delicious steak and that all animals are beautiful or something, deflect everything she says by responding to her animals-are-humans-too arguments by saying shit like, “Definitely, I think Cattle should have the same rights as you and me, plus, imagine how hilarious it would be if they wore tuxedos.” Retarded I know, but that sort of shit will keep her pussy wet and if she keeps going on or worse, gets offended, simply say to her, “Let’s drop the topic, besides, I wanted to ask you why you wear such expressive colors? How long have you been an artist for?” Now, notice here, that I’ve used “why,” and I cold read her ass. This shit does two things: Shows her that her arguing is fucking lame and that you really don’t care (dynamite for her pussy), and it will get her thinking that you are very perceptive and are able to challenge her. Nice.
If she keeps arguing, challenge her with the super-handy “why” tool, or as I like to call it, play therapist. Just keep asking her why she feels that way about whatever she is arguing. You will not realize it, but when you pull the why card in an argument, you make her submit to you subconsciously because she has to justify every word she says to you and that is a form of verbal domination on your part. “I believe that any man who does not like feminism is stupid” she might say, to which you respond, “Why do you feel that way about men who do not like feminism?” Rinse, and repeat boys.
Ignore Arguing All Together
If a argument thread pops up at all, simply ignore it by responding, “Yeah, I do not know,” but make sure you quickly follow said statement by something more interesting then what you guys were already talking about. Simple, I know. If she persists, well, reffer to the “Do Not Take Her Arguments Seriously” section.
Arguing is an issue I used to have when I embarked on my journey to become a better man. However, through observation and teachings of other gentlemen of game I learned to navigate this aspect of social relations. In turn, I learned as well how to handle arguing females, and in a climate where women want to be as masculine as possible, you are bound to find females who will try to argue your masculine knowledge.
I hope this helps you gentlemen.
Happy gaming boys.