It really only takes one day to snap out of a funk.
I'd been in an LTR for well over a year. It'd been a long, long time since I've had to ask a girl out. It's not like I'm shy, or inexperienced. I'd done this loads of times. Just not recently. I hoped that it would be like riding a bike; I might be a bit rusty but I'll never forget. In spite of my hopes, weeks of actionless intent had put me firmly on tilt, questioning whether or not I had lost my touch. After all, I was crushing it before I got into this relationship.
I re-read Day Bang, promised myself a good effort, and accomplished nothing. I didn't really even try. I left the house yesterday with high hopes, assured that I knew what to say and do. I told myself I'd start up at least 3 chats with strangers. I couldn't even be arsed to ask an old guy for directions. Had I misjudged myself? Had all those lays, all those epic nights out, the stories that my friends envied...had those all just been luck? My imagination?
Considering how many notches I accrued between my last two LTRs, I couldn't imagine chalking it up to pure luck. No way. My game had been solid back then. Getting numbers was an afterthought, a natural part of my life. Now I was struggling just to start up a conversation. I just needed one number, just one. Something to remind me that I still have it. It doesn't even need to convert. Just something. Anything.
---
On the way to lunch, I met eyes with a real stunner. I'm not used to getting strong eye contact from women, and even less used to holding it. She was gorgeous, with big strong brown eyes locked firmly onto mine. There was no talking myself out of it. She was looking at me. And she liked what she saw. I had the opener ready on my hip. I knew exactly what to say, how to say it and how to respond to everything she could possibly say in return.
But I did nothing. The sheer shock from locking eyes with such a pretty girl actually rattled me, and hard. It felt like taking a punch to the gut, and it dazed me just long enough that the opportunity passed me by.
Fuck. I've been doing this game thing for a long time, and it seems that I still get the flutters. Newbies take note. A similar thing happened yesterday. I had a perfect coffee shop opportunity and I did nothing. A pretty girl sat down with an easy prop and began displaying all the right body language signs that say "I think you are cute, please talk to me". For some reason, I didn't do anything and it sent me into a funk for the rest of the day. I couldn't afford another day of self-flagellation and negativity.
I chided myself for not taking a shot this time, but quickly reframed myself; "She is the first of many women who will check me out today". The girl on the street was beautiful and clearly interested. I was disappointed for wasting a good look, but the disappointment passed and my day went along quite pleasantly, no harm no foul.
When I sat down at the cafe for lunch, I hadn't talked to a soul in hours. I had been pleasantly lost in my own thoughts and my music, wandering around London for a while. It was calming, just the thing to do after yesterday's overstimulation and minor freak-out. I had planned to keep my head down and grind out a chapter of my weight loss ebook with no regard for girls or game. I needed a break from the pressure more than I needed a number or a lay.
---
Something struck me about the waitress who seated me at the cafe. She was very animated and chatty from the second I walked in. Whatever, I never hit on the waitress. But she was cute. Not "hot", but cute. I'd spot her body as +, face as an =. It's not like she had a face that could launch a thousand ships, but she was certainly on the positive side of the spectrum. I could imagine fucking her and enjoying it. I was inspired. She was funny. Really funny, like standup comedy funny. She talked a lot, and the majority of what she said had me cracking up. I am not an easy person to amuse, and I find most women to be pretty insipid.
She was a great and excited conversationalist with a a quick-draw wit that'd put an old west gunslinger to shame. For my part, I kept pace and returned the favour. From our first exchange, it was clear that I was "on" today. My mind was as razor-sharp as it's ever been, a stark contrast to yesterday when I struggled to compose even a sentence. I matched wit with her while managing to maintain a calm exterior demeanour. I kept my game strong without even thinking, just working off reaction and instinct. Maybe I -did- still 'have it'.
Our interactions were far more friendly than I had ever experienced in a waitress-customer situation. At the end of our very first interaction, before I had even ordered my food, I knew I needed to get this girl's number. I fully committed to it in my mind, and even lightly muttered aloud, "The decision's been made. Just figure out what you're going to say and how, then close it."
It only got better from there. We really hit it off. I observed her behaviour, how she talked with other customers, and I knew I had it locked down. She was unenthusiastic with the older couple in front of me, terse with the two pretty girls to my right, yet whenever we interacted she immediately shifted gears into "bouncing off walls" mode. It was mine for the taking.
I ran through every doubt in my head, every possible line of play. "Full Committed", I told myself. This shit used to be second nature to me. I used to do this in my sleep. Literally. I'd have dreams where I executed flawless opens and closes, woke up, and tried them in my waking life. My sudden wave of doubt caught me off-guard. I allowed myself to have the doubts, to think them through. Then I addressed them in turn without allowing them to consume me as they did yesterday.
She has a boyfriend? Don't care, ask anyway, and if she does, tell her she should come out for a drink regardless. It wouldn't be the first time I stole a girl right from under another guy's arm.
Maybe I was misreading her friendliness as professionalism? No chance; an embossed invitation from the Queen couldn't be more clear. The girl was bouncing off the walls each time we spoke.
Isn't it skeezy to hit on the waitress? She can deal with it, not my problem. If nothing else, our interaction had been so pleasant that a little innocent "lets have a drink" was well within the rules of social engagement.
What if she just plain says no? Then I'm 0/1 instead of 0/0. It counts. I said I'd put in at least one good faith effort today. There's no shame in swinging and missing.
I couldn't come up with a valid and logical reason why to avoid asking. There was none. I had committed and I was going to do it. I sat there for far too long thinking about things. I stalled for at least 10 minutes by messaging a friend to set up plans. Then something strange happened.
My hands started to jitter. Hard. I -don't- get nervous. I don't get the jitters when I compete in high level events, perform on stage, risk a lot of money on an investment/trade or at any other time in my life. Certainly not when asking a girl out, of all things. This hadn't happend to me in -years-. I smiled broadly, feeling alive and revelling in the fact that I was about to do something that genuinely made me nervous. I could barely type on my phone.
In a moment of hubris, I pulled up the "add new contact" screen on my phone. I think that's what spurred me into action, because before I was even aware of my actions I was standing at the cash register talking to her. I tried to go into my close, but she was just so eager to keep talking to me I couldn't get a word in edgewise.
I went into my landing pattern. "As much as I'd love to stay here and hang out with you all night, I have stuff to do." She was so excited to talk to me she kept interrupting. As I had said to her multiple times earlier in the afternoon, "Kid, you're outta control". She tried to say more stuff, but I was ready to lock this in and roll out. I went into my close again.
"As much as I'd love to stay here and hang out with you all night, I have stuff to do. You're outta control, kid...but you do seem pretty cool. We should get a drink." The smartass said, "you mean a hot or cold one?" I had no idea how to respond, so I just said, "You think I care?" and locked eyes with her, saying nothing.
She seemed pleasantly surprised that I had asked her, stammering in her response. I decided that it was a good time to get a bit cheeky with her (revenge for when she made fun of me for ordering a diet coke, damnit), and pretended she was confused and didn't speak English well. I 'clarified' myself for her.
We (as in 'you and I' )
should (as in 'it would be a good idea to')
get a drink (a beverage, possibly of alcoholic nature).
This sealed it. After a beat that seemed like an eternity, she said, "Sure, why not!"
She reached for a pad and paper to write down her number before I could even get to my phone. Such eagerness I have never seen. Despite this, I handed her my phone still on the Add New Contact screen, and delivered Roosh's tried-and-true closing line. "I can put your number in my phone." She punched in her number. I lied, actually. There's no way I'd have been able to enter her number in my phone. My hands were still vibrating a mile a minute.
1/1.
I know a number doesn't mean shit. I don't necessarily expect this to convert or develop in any way. It's symbolic, and it should serve as a great lesson to newbies and guys just getting back into the game. I had my worst day in ages yesterday but today, I got my first number on my first try in well over a year. It was also my first number achieved outside of my home country and, if all goes well it will also be my Spanish flag.
Get out there. Keep going. Keep trying. One number doesn't mean a thing to me but I needed to get one to know I can get more. And I'll get more. Oh my god I will get so many more. I felt like dog shit yesterday, but something I read motivated me to get back into the trenches today and just get that one little number. That one little number that's about to unleash a torrent.
--
"Pain is temporary. It may last for a minute, or an hour, or a day or even a year. But eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If you quit, it will last forever. You're not gonna die. At the end of pain is success. You're not gonna die because you're feeling a little pain".
I'd been in an LTR for well over a year. It'd been a long, long time since I've had to ask a girl out. It's not like I'm shy, or inexperienced. I'd done this loads of times. Just not recently. I hoped that it would be like riding a bike; I might be a bit rusty but I'll never forget. In spite of my hopes, weeks of actionless intent had put me firmly on tilt, questioning whether or not I had lost my touch. After all, I was crushing it before I got into this relationship.
I re-read Day Bang, promised myself a good effort, and accomplished nothing. I didn't really even try. I left the house yesterday with high hopes, assured that I knew what to say and do. I told myself I'd start up at least 3 chats with strangers. I couldn't even be arsed to ask an old guy for directions. Had I misjudged myself? Had all those lays, all those epic nights out, the stories that my friends envied...had those all just been luck? My imagination?
Considering how many notches I accrued between my last two LTRs, I couldn't imagine chalking it up to pure luck. No way. My game had been solid back then. Getting numbers was an afterthought, a natural part of my life. Now I was struggling just to start up a conversation. I just needed one number, just one. Something to remind me that I still have it. It doesn't even need to convert. Just something. Anything.
---
On the way to lunch, I met eyes with a real stunner. I'm not used to getting strong eye contact from women, and even less used to holding it. She was gorgeous, with big strong brown eyes locked firmly onto mine. There was no talking myself out of it. She was looking at me. And she liked what she saw. I had the opener ready on my hip. I knew exactly what to say, how to say it and how to respond to everything she could possibly say in return.
But I did nothing. The sheer shock from locking eyes with such a pretty girl actually rattled me, and hard. It felt like taking a punch to the gut, and it dazed me just long enough that the opportunity passed me by.
Fuck. I've been doing this game thing for a long time, and it seems that I still get the flutters. Newbies take note. A similar thing happened yesterday. I had a perfect coffee shop opportunity and I did nothing. A pretty girl sat down with an easy prop and began displaying all the right body language signs that say "I think you are cute, please talk to me". For some reason, I didn't do anything and it sent me into a funk for the rest of the day. I couldn't afford another day of self-flagellation and negativity.
I chided myself for not taking a shot this time, but quickly reframed myself; "She is the first of many women who will check me out today". The girl on the street was beautiful and clearly interested. I was disappointed for wasting a good look, but the disappointment passed and my day went along quite pleasantly, no harm no foul.
When I sat down at the cafe for lunch, I hadn't talked to a soul in hours. I had been pleasantly lost in my own thoughts and my music, wandering around London for a while. It was calming, just the thing to do after yesterday's overstimulation and minor freak-out. I had planned to keep my head down and grind out a chapter of my weight loss ebook with no regard for girls or game. I needed a break from the pressure more than I needed a number or a lay.
---
Something struck me about the waitress who seated me at the cafe. She was very animated and chatty from the second I walked in. Whatever, I never hit on the waitress. But she was cute. Not "hot", but cute. I'd spot her body as +, face as an =. It's not like she had a face that could launch a thousand ships, but she was certainly on the positive side of the spectrum. I could imagine fucking her and enjoying it. I was inspired. She was funny. Really funny, like standup comedy funny. She talked a lot, and the majority of what she said had me cracking up. I am not an easy person to amuse, and I find most women to be pretty insipid.
She was a great and excited conversationalist with a a quick-draw wit that'd put an old west gunslinger to shame. For my part, I kept pace and returned the favour. From our first exchange, it was clear that I was "on" today. My mind was as razor-sharp as it's ever been, a stark contrast to yesterday when I struggled to compose even a sentence. I matched wit with her while managing to maintain a calm exterior demeanour. I kept my game strong without even thinking, just working off reaction and instinct. Maybe I -did- still 'have it'.
Our interactions were far more friendly than I had ever experienced in a waitress-customer situation. At the end of our very first interaction, before I had even ordered my food, I knew I needed to get this girl's number. I fully committed to it in my mind, and even lightly muttered aloud, "The decision's been made. Just figure out what you're going to say and how, then close it."
It only got better from there. We really hit it off. I observed her behaviour, how she talked with other customers, and I knew I had it locked down. She was unenthusiastic with the older couple in front of me, terse with the two pretty girls to my right, yet whenever we interacted she immediately shifted gears into "bouncing off walls" mode. It was mine for the taking.
I ran through every doubt in my head, every possible line of play. "Full Committed", I told myself. This shit used to be second nature to me. I used to do this in my sleep. Literally. I'd have dreams where I executed flawless opens and closes, woke up, and tried them in my waking life. My sudden wave of doubt caught me off-guard. I allowed myself to have the doubts, to think them through. Then I addressed them in turn without allowing them to consume me as they did yesterday.
She has a boyfriend? Don't care, ask anyway, and if she does, tell her she should come out for a drink regardless. It wouldn't be the first time I stole a girl right from under another guy's arm.
Maybe I was misreading her friendliness as professionalism? No chance; an embossed invitation from the Queen couldn't be more clear. The girl was bouncing off the walls each time we spoke.
Isn't it skeezy to hit on the waitress? She can deal with it, not my problem. If nothing else, our interaction had been so pleasant that a little innocent "lets have a drink" was well within the rules of social engagement.
What if she just plain says no? Then I'm 0/1 instead of 0/0. It counts. I said I'd put in at least one good faith effort today. There's no shame in swinging and missing.
I couldn't come up with a valid and logical reason why to avoid asking. There was none. I had committed and I was going to do it. I sat there for far too long thinking about things. I stalled for at least 10 minutes by messaging a friend to set up plans. Then something strange happened.
My hands started to jitter. Hard. I -don't- get nervous. I don't get the jitters when I compete in high level events, perform on stage, risk a lot of money on an investment/trade or at any other time in my life. Certainly not when asking a girl out, of all things. This hadn't happend to me in -years-. I smiled broadly, feeling alive and revelling in the fact that I was about to do something that genuinely made me nervous. I could barely type on my phone.
In a moment of hubris, I pulled up the "add new contact" screen on my phone. I think that's what spurred me into action, because before I was even aware of my actions I was standing at the cash register talking to her. I tried to go into my close, but she was just so eager to keep talking to me I couldn't get a word in edgewise.
I went into my landing pattern. "As much as I'd love to stay here and hang out with you all night, I have stuff to do." She was so excited to talk to me she kept interrupting. As I had said to her multiple times earlier in the afternoon, "Kid, you're outta control". She tried to say more stuff, but I was ready to lock this in and roll out. I went into my close again.
"As much as I'd love to stay here and hang out with you all night, I have stuff to do. You're outta control, kid...but you do seem pretty cool. We should get a drink." The smartass said, "you mean a hot or cold one?" I had no idea how to respond, so I just said, "You think I care?" and locked eyes with her, saying nothing.
She seemed pleasantly surprised that I had asked her, stammering in her response. I decided that it was a good time to get a bit cheeky with her (revenge for when she made fun of me for ordering a diet coke, damnit), and pretended she was confused and didn't speak English well. I 'clarified' myself for her.
We (as in 'you and I' )
should (as in 'it would be a good idea to')
get a drink (a beverage, possibly of alcoholic nature).
This sealed it. After a beat that seemed like an eternity, she said, "Sure, why not!"
She reached for a pad and paper to write down her number before I could even get to my phone. Such eagerness I have never seen. Despite this, I handed her my phone still on the Add New Contact screen, and delivered Roosh's tried-and-true closing line. "I can put your number in my phone." She punched in her number. I lied, actually. There's no way I'd have been able to enter her number in my phone. My hands were still vibrating a mile a minute.
1/1.
I know a number doesn't mean shit. I don't necessarily expect this to convert or develop in any way. It's symbolic, and it should serve as a great lesson to newbies and guys just getting back into the game. I had my worst day in ages yesterday but today, I got my first number on my first try in well over a year. It was also my first number achieved outside of my home country and, if all goes well it will also be my Spanish flag.
Get out there. Keep going. Keep trying. One number doesn't mean a thing to me but I needed to get one to know I can get more. And I'll get more. Oh my god I will get so many more. I felt like dog shit yesterday, but something I read motivated me to get back into the trenches today and just get that one little number. That one little number that's about to unleash a torrent.
--
"Pain is temporary. It may last for a minute, or an hour, or a day or even a year. But eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If you quit, it will last forever. You're not gonna die. At the end of pain is success. You're not gonna die because you're feeling a little pain".
