Friday 30 November 2007

Still Sick as a Dog

So I'm still sick as a dog. Fun fun fun. At work. Have done nothing all day. Other than nearly complete Mario World and take Counter Strike back up. Next 4 days off. Good. Time to recover.

Thursday 29 November 2007

Sick as a dog

I'm ill. I've finally caught this fucking cough that's been circulating around the office for the last few weeks. Fuck it. It won't take me down. I've not taken a sick day for years, and I don't intend on starting now. Though since I started this morning I've developed a headache. And I'm fast losing my ability to concentrate. Why am I writing this here? Well, I'm trying to keep a poker face at work, but sometimes you've just got to have a rant.

On the woman front. I met a HB8 girl who is a PA at one of our suppliers. She came to meet me at the door and I instantly turned the game on. She ended up staying and chatting for 10 minutes and blatantly got told off by her boss when he came in and met me, as she was only supposed to show me to the waiting room. Ha!

It was easy though, and it's kind of like flicking a switch. Now that I think about it there's always been a switch. It's sort of an Alpha Male switch. It's almost as if I spend most of my time running around at 90%, and then when I hit the switch i got into pure 100%.

Anyway. I didn't number close, as there wasn't time and we were rudely interrupted. I could phone the company, ask to speak to her, and ask for her number. Could even just say that "I wanted to say thanks for waiting with me in the waiting room the other day". But. And it's a big but. It's highly unprofessional to phone a woman at work, whilst I'm at work and ask for her number. Hmmm...

I've finished Magic Bullets and then stormed through Double Your Dating. I may write reviews for both soon. Both are excellent, Double Your Dating even more so. Magic Bullets is good, but really highlights the cultural divide between the UK and the USA. DYD also left me with a monstrous reading list, which is awesome. The thing I liked so much about it, was that whereas Magic Bullets is primarily about improving personality, DYD is more about improving character (read Steven Covey's The Seven Habits Of Highly Effective People if you don't know the difference - in fact, read it anyway).

I also came up with a pretty decent theory on why a guy's starting level of game is what it is. But until I've developed it properly I'm not sharing.

-B

Sunday 25 November 2007

Game with friends #2

Fuck it. I just deleted 6 paragraphs of tripe.

Once again I went out with friends. Once again my game sucked. I approached 3 sets throughout the whole weekend and over a total of 8 hours out in town. Fucking idiot. I think my approach anxiety was severely magnified by the fear of failure in front of friends.

Solo game and day game from here on out. Perhaps I will try and find a wing from the community.

Nothing else I have to say is of any relevance.


Although a HB10 stripper kissed me.... that was worth the £20 the lapdance cost. But it doesn't count. Strippers aren't real women. Not that she was too impressed when I told her that. Ah well. If she can't take a joke, fuck her ;)

Tuesday 20 November 2007

Bad Phone Game

I take no joy in writing this post, and therefore I'll try and keep it as brief as possible. I am however resolute in my intention to write it. If I only write about my fleeting successes and times when things work I achieve far less than if I accept, then analyse and learn from my failures.

"A thinker sees his own actions as experiments and questions--as attempts to find out something. Success and failure are for him answers above all."
- Nietzsche

My phone game sucks. I get nervous phoning women, far more so than when I talk to them face to face. When I see a woman in front of me I can be confident with my body language, and feed of theirs. On the phone I have only my voice and my ability to confidently talk to at women.

About an hour ago I made a terrible phone call. Infact it was almost a complete cold-call. I was under the misguided impression that a HB9 I used to know fancied me. She'd gotten in contact with me to invite me to a party, after not having spoken to me for 18 months. I then learned that she just broke up with her LTR*. I thought it was on.

So I phone her up. She was awkward and unreceptive. I tried to get a conversation going. After a few stumling and broken conversation strands I asked her why she got in contact after all this time. Turns out she didn't, and I was mistaken: her friend invited me to her party on her behalf. Ah. After that my conversation fell to pieces.

It lasted about 2 minutes.

So. What have I learned? Hmm, well at least I tried, and found out - better than not knowing and always wondering. Also I've realised that I'm at times overly optimistic and have absolutely no idea when it comes to women.

Still - at least I can't do worse, right?

-B


* LTR - Long Term Relationship

Sunday 18 November 2007

Night Out on the game with friends #1

Never again. At least not with that group*. What I have learnt and am trying to put into practice does not mix well with my old social circle of friends. What a bad idea it was mixing the two.

My weekend result - one phone number, that isn't even real. I was looking forward to going out with a girl, a female 'wingman', and really improving my game. I thought she had the same goal, and with an excited pace in my foot I floored the accelerator pedal of my car all the way down to the south coast for the weekend.

Night 1 - my friend wants to stay in. I begrudgingly accede to this suggestion - it's very cold and there's no point dragging someone out if they don't want to go out. We end up going for a long drive around town, stop at a bar for a drink, then drive some more until the early hours of the morning. I'm slightly annoyed that my vision of the weekend isn't coming to pass, but I give myself a mental slap and in my mind utter to myself "it's not all about the game, make sure you always make time for your friends".

Night 2 - we go out. Except, instead of going out on the pull, we go out with friends. Again, I mentally kick myself for begrudging the fact that I'm out with friends. We merge with a group of girls they know, which is nice. Both girls are HB7's - and I decide that they are a simple and fair starting point for the evening. But oh my god. My 'friends' destroy my game in front of these girls. I have unwittingly brought out my own cock-blocking obstacles.

End result for the weekend? I separate myself from my group, and open on a HB8 on her own. I number close. I congratulate myself, as it was 2am, and just before we decided to head off. I tell myself the weekend has not been a complete wipe-out on the game front.

Until today. I dial HB8's number. BEEP BEEP BEEp the number you have called has not been recognised, please dial again BEEP BEEP BEEP.

- - -

Two things are apparent. First - I have no right to any kind of ego or any claim to have any level of game. I'm a blank canvas, and have a very very long way to go. Second - to succeed I need to move away from my social circle. My friends were all very complementary, telling me they thought I was more confident, assured, funny and all the rest of it - but they are very much holding me back.

From now on I'm going to find a new social circle - perhaps of like minded pickup artists - and I'm also going to go out alone. I will not be set back. I will not bow down. I will force myself to succeed.

-B

* If you are one of my friends and you read this - remember that you are a good friend first and foremost, but on Saturday 17th November 2007, you really fucked my game up.

Wednesday 14 November 2007

Day Game #1 becomes D2

I'm shocked. Honestly, totally, completely shocked. TubeGirl went on a date with me last night (see DayGame #1). I'm almost afraid of what I've achieved. BeachGirl has agreed to go on a date with me when she gets up to London, and I # closed her in about 2 minutes. TubeGirl I # closed on a crowded London subway, within 12 minutes.

So, this is the brief, yet pleasant story.

On the tube yesterday morning I decided to text all the various girls I'm courting at the moment. I texted BeachGirl:

"I'm going to be in Hammersmith this evening, taking some books back to the library. Maybe we should go for a drink. x"

She says she might be able to, if it's not too early as she has plans. Sure. Anyway, we text backwards and forwards a little, she's coy and refuses to say yes or no. I get to Hammersmith, join the library, take some books out and head home. TubeGirl strings me along until about 10 minutes before I'm supposed to be in the library, returning my books, and says yes!

We meet outside the station. Oh my god. She is gorgeous. On a friday evening, after work, at the end of the week, without any kind of getting ready she's HB8. Now, she's a pure 9! Tall 5'11 (I'm 6'), dark flowing hair, slim, sexy. Kissed her on the cheek as I greeted her and we went to a bar.

The date went well, not excellently, but I think it went well. I made her laugh, quite a lot. I tried some canned material and it didn't work, so I stacked on to asking questions. I know I asked too many - to the point where she said she hadn't realised she was going to a job interview (cringe), but I turned it into a joke and said that now she's sussed me out she was no longer eligible for the job and had to leave before the next applicant arrived. Thank fuck she found it funny.

It was odd - she did some definate shit tests, which I passed I think. She tried me make me jump through hoops, and I didn't. Good sings: She offered to buy me a drink. She stayed for two drinks, when originally she said she would go for one quick drink. And she's agreed to a second date!

Oh, and of course early on she had to ask:

TubeGirl: Do you often talk to girls on the tube?
Bandit: Honest answer, no, you're the first. But I did talk to a girl on the bus on the way here.
TubeGirl looks shocked (quizzical look)
Bandit: She was lost.
TubeGirl laughs.
Bandit: I knew you were going to ask that though. So my question is, do you often give out your number to men on the tube?
TubeGirl: No.
Bandit: Then why did you give me your number, and why are you here?
TubeGirl: I thought it was brave.

I walked her back to the tube. Kissed her on the cheek again - and we said we'd both think of somewhere to go and see each other soon.

Tuesday 13 November 2007

Going out Solo

I refuse to finish my day on a downer. My last post was downbeat. This is my antidote.

Going out Solo

So far I've been in the community for under a week, but excitingly enough I've already been asked for advice by PM on the attraction forums:

Q. What exactly did it take for you to just go out on your own and sarge? Did you have to prepare yourself in any way?

Going out alone is scary enough anywhere - but especially so in London. As I've said previously, there's a misconception about the Brits, people think we are cold and offish, aloof even. This is not true towards our friends and people we know, but it's spot on towards strangers. Building rapport with strangers in Britain is hard, hard, hard. We are slow to warm to people, are far too polite and are quite reserved.

Despite this the thing that drove me to conquor my fear of going out alone here was desire. Pure and simple desire to become an excellent PUA - and like with anything we want to improve we simply have to start, and then go out and keep doing it until we become good. The reason I was able to go out was simply because my desire to become good outweighed my fear of social rejection.

It also helped that I number closed HB8 on the tube on the way into town - that was and adrenaline fueled shot of confidence boost. But you don't need that. In fact, until that point I had determined to break the process down.

  1. Get dressed up. I made myself look as good as I could.
  2. Work out where to go. Pick a place - where doesn't matter. Just choose.
  3. Get on the bus/train/car or walk down the road.
  4. Enter the venue.
  5. Get a beer.
  6. Relax. Take a deep breath. Remember that you've come all this way, and you might as well try and open a set and then go for it.

Throughout life, outside of 'game' situations, I've always found that the more I reheare something, the worse I come off. Some people are great at visualising situations and then acting them out - me, I have to simply go for it, and hope that my knowledge of what i'm talking about, my wit, humour, interesting banter and sharp mind will hold me through. The nice thing is that I used to be crap at all of the above, these skills have taken time and effort to aquire.

Perhaps why I'm not finding this as hard as I thought - I've developped a lot of social skill since I was badly bullied at school aged 12. One day I'll face my deamons, psycho-analyse myself and post about it. The past is still sore, but I know I learnt lessons from having a shit time growing up - I hope I can share these and that they will help.

The point I'm trying to make though is this. Confidence is a skill, not a talent. You can learn confidence. The more you use it the better it becomes.

And in order to go out? Simply work out which is greater... your desire to succeed, or your fear of rejection. If you've answered the latter then you need to work out how to tip the scales.

- B


(p.s.) This thread has sparked the seed of two future posts. Coming soon on The Bandit Blog:

  • Tipping the scales - making your desire to succeed outweigh your fear.

  • A look at my origins - going from the most unpopular guy at school, to kiss closing a HB9 in four months.

A day of normality, or not

Today pickup was one of the last things on my mind. Early in the day I was asked to be a blood donor to save a young girl's life - she is the daughter of a friend of a friend. I don't know if I'm the right blood group - but I'm going to find out first thing tomorrow at St Ormond Street Hospital. I just hope I am. Something like this makes me realise all the petty problems I think I have ever had pale in comparison to this little girl's life, that's right now hanging by a thread.

HB6 text me and asked me to go skating then out for a meal with her friends. I told her I couldn't make it. Also got asked out drinking with work mates, but I need to be sober for my tests tomorrow. HB10 may be a no-go, as our mutual friend sent her my number, was told that the text didn't go through - and now won't send it again. Fuck it, honestly don't care.

Today's not been about pickup at all. I've been concentrating on other things and catching up with my work load - I fell into the trap of pickup obsession last week and fell behind. This is one PUA in the making that will not become a social robot. No fucking way.

Sorry if this post is uninteresting - it's posted more for my benefit than for a good read. More fun soon let's hope.

B

Sunday 11 November 2007

Girls - who they are and what's next

Girls. I now have a few numbers, these need to be converted into D2's.

BeachGirl (HB 8.5)

This one is on for a D2 - but due to geographical location it's not until 14th December at the earliest. I need to slowly build up to arranging something for that weekend, otherwise it'll Christmas and therefore too late. Need to keep up the text, eventually phone her.

ActressGirl (HB10)

This 10 says I'm cute. She is stunning. I've asked her mutual friend to give her my number with instructions to call me. She apparently texted me from her friend's phone the other night - I assumed it was my friend. Told her "Hope you pull ;) x", which in hind sight is an excellently odd thing to say. As she may randomly turn up at work I will now have to dress the PUA 24/7. Hmmm... Ball is in her court on this.

TubeGirl (HB8)

Need to find a blues bar in Earl's Court and call her today. Backup is Wednesday lunctime at the library to watch an irish music rehearsal.

LawGirl (HB9)

Need to send follow up 'hi did you get back ok' bollocks text so she has my name and number. This one I really want (not a one-itis), but it's a massive challenge as she'a s 30 year old solicitor who's about to be made partner in her firm. Gorgeous. Smart. Funny. I'll text her, see if she replies, wait a few days and call her.

LebonesePrincess (HB 9)

Hit it off really well with this 19yo student. She has a bf. We were going to go to some exhibition together, but she had to bugger off for her reading week. I've texted her twice and won't again until she responds. Ball is in her court.

Red9 (HB9)

Flaked out on me last night. Can't complain too much as I woudn't have met LawGirl or Vancouver if I'd gone. Annoyed though. Haven't texted back yet and will wait and see if she texts me. Ball is pretty much in her court.

Red8 (HB8)

Perhaps it's a RedHead thing, but similar to above. I told her we should just be friends. She agreed. Then I text her when I was at this blues club the other night and she said next I'm I go there to call her and she'll come along. Girls are strange. No idea what to do here - instinct tells me nothing.

Vancouver (HB 8.5)

Don't have her number, as her bf was there, but have her friend's. This one can really go on the back burner, will text her friend today and tell her to ask me out next time everyone is going out all together.

Drinking vs Sobriety

I know that if I drink I can go out and number close, kiss close and probably fuck close the majority of the time. The problem is that very rarely would I be able to pull more than a HB7 by doing this.

Alcohol removes your inhibitions - hence it's popularity. Ego, self esteem, sense of self worth and belief in your own powers are all magnified significantly by alcohol. The problem is that, like any other mind altering drug, there are negatives.

Whilst I may be funny, outgoing, witty, amusing etc etc, when I'm drunk. For every occassion where I've been drunk and coped fine there are dozens others where I've vomited, passed out, gotten in fights etc... I think I can safely say I've lost more girls through drunkeness than I've pulled - and the ones I've pulled have never, ever, been anything special.

My plan is to go out and not drink - if I drink I don't believe I'll ever seriously improve my game (at least not my inner game). It would be so much easier to go out and drink, but I think real success for me lies in training myself to feel all the postives I would associate with alcohol to just happen naturally.

So far I'm happy with my decision.

Solo Night Out #2

Last night was much better! My anxiety and fear of going out in London on my own has faded a lot more now, it's actually just like anywhere else if you go out with the right attidude - and when in doubt listen out of for North American accents. Plus some very wierd shit happened at the very end, which is a damn good story on its own.

So I leave just after 8, and I get into town just before 9.00. I've worked out where I'm going to go well in advance - Bar Soho in Soho, which my new essential reading (TimeOut's Bars, Pubs & Clubs book) tells me is a "pick-up joint" and that "come nightfall, most costumers are intent on reaching first base before moving on a deux". Turning up, I think I've made a big mistake - the place is packed, almost to capacity and there's very loud music. I get a beer and start to walk to the back of the club - trying to make it look like I know where I'm going. On the way I open a one-set with a bloke, just to make it try and appear less like I'm on my own, and to get the ball rolling. He couldn't hear a bloody word I was saying! Damn.

I move as far away as I can from the music, near the doors and look for more sets. It's still too loud. I memorise the layout of the place and decide to go outside, call someone, and then leave.

Set #1

As I'm outside I finally see an opportunity - HB 7 is at a table, alone, smoking, with two drinks and an empty chair. I casually approach.

"Have you been stood up as well?"
"Yeah"
"Friends. Always late."
"Yeah well mine's wondered off to the bar ages ago".

At this point I realise two things and start setting myself up. I tell her that I'm going to finish my drink and go and find my friends, so I can't stay long (time constraint), then I ask her about her friend and get the name. Last time I tried a set and the friend came back, the friend immediately and instinctively cockblocked and dragged her friend away. This time though, I was ready. When her friend came back, HB 8.5 (bonus!), I greeted her by name, and then did the same time constraint. I ask them what they are up to this evening, and then HB 7 gives me an IOI, telling me to pull up a chair. I oblige.

I start asking questions, and then go cocky-funny about everything they answer. Turns out HB7's parents owns a stable with 40 horses (wtf?!) she can now be stable girl. HB8.5 is a lawyer. I try the best friend's routine - but they aren't! They've only known each other a few months. HB 8.5 tells me that since then HB 7 has been clinging onto her constantly (what a wierd thing to say). So now I'm trying to work out the situation - HB8.5 is the one I'm now after, so I decide to ignore her for a bit and focus entirely on HB 7. Both girls are from out of town and up for the day.

I carry on asking question. They answer and make sure I neg as much as possible. My favourite was:

Me: So what have you two beeing doing today?
Stablegirl: Shopping, and far too much eating?
Me: Define too much eating.
Stablegirl: We went to this place (then to Lawgirl), Browns?
Lawgirl: Yeah Browns.
Stablegirl: And we had like 7 sandwiches?
Me: What? You had seven sandwiches? SEVEN sandwiches? So basically underneath those coasts you have these massive bellies (make large stomach motion with hands). Still, you hide it well.

They laugh. Throughout all this, every now and then, I'm acting as if I'm getting text messages and get up a few times to ring people. Every time I come back and explain my friends are late, but should be here any minute. I think my blatant lying (and my soul should burn), was actually really convincing. Stablegirl bought it a treat, and Lawgirl did as a few times later. But hey, that must be some achievement - making up a story as I go along and convincing a lawyer it's true.

Next step: the bounce. At this point we're still sitting outside, and all of a sudden the bar man appears and tells me we have to get up - he's taking the tables away. I suggest we find somewhere new to go nearby, were we can sit outisde, whilst my friends turn up. They know a place round the corner and so we go.

We end up outside this bar - quite a stylish place called Profile. Ah, perfect, there's a table left outside. The girls have bags with them and we start to sit down.

Me: I don't normally do this, but I'll do you a deal. I'll buy this round, if you buy he next OK?

They like that, and I go inside to get HB8.5 a vokda-lemon-lime and HB7 a Cosmo. I walk inside and straight away something's up. Hang on, where are all the women? Why are all the guys really really well dressed? IS THAT GAY PORN ON THE TV's BEHIND THE BAR?!! Forunately, it was just a scene from some film I guess as there was no sex... just.... eugh.... I don't want to think about it. I'm waiting at the bar and the place starts to fill up. They close the large screen door, blocking off the outside world and separating me from my set. Great. I'm stuck in a gay bar - have to carry three drinks including a sodding cocktail to fuck-knows-where to get out... and I'm wearing a pink jumper.

I get back outside and tell them it's gay bar. They tell me they'd figured that one out and we laugh about it. Now the tables turn a little and they start asking me questions. I DHV for a while, telling them about my exploits and stories.

Things that get a good response:
  • I'm buying a flat - property is so fucking expensive in London.
  • I work in television.
  • I manage a small team of people (which is stretching the truth a little, but fuck it).
  • I've been to colombia and a whole load of spin off from that:
  • Went to an ambassadors evening.
  • Met the presidents son.

Then I tell them I'm growing my gotee for charity - then they came back with something awesome. They're organising a sponsored climb up the world's largest active volcano in ecuador, and have so far raised £25,000. :o I tell them I've raised £2.30.

We finish drinks and they suggest going inside - I think they were curious. I agree on the condition they promise to protect me from all the blokes. We go inside and find a nice table in the corner. I put my back firmly against the wall, just in case I get my arse grabbed. Suddenly a rather ugly girl sits down close to us.

Me: "Hey look - there is another girl in here".
Stablegirl: "Erm, I'm not sure that's a girl"
I glance back: "Holy fuck, you're right. And 'she' just came out of the gents'.

I start inching away. Stablegirl follows. I then inch back, she stays. Lawgirl goes to the toilet so I do the "tell me three things about yourself that's not about your looks or what you do" routine. She does, then does it back. My answers are better, though I almost kick myself for not having thought them about beforehand. Then I play Murder, Marry, Shag on Stablegirl. She loved it... I was surprised at how effective it was, will definately be trying that again. Lawgirl comes back: apparently there are blokes in the ladies toilets. I tell her that no matter how much I need the loo, I'm not going into the gents (having seen the number of gay couples going in together). I then play Murder, Marry, Shag on her and she again loves it, but chooses very quickly and assertively- which I find very attractive (I love assertive women). Lawgirl then IOI's by getting a photo of the three of us (damn, must take camera out next time). I put my hands around their waists for the photo, not to low down though, the put their arms around me. It's not good enough. We go through the routine again.

More cocky-funny bullshit and then Stablegirl goes to the bar to get cigarettes. I give her a twenty and ask her to get me some. Lawgirl instantly turns to me and gives me her full attention. She asks me how old I am. I tell her to guess. She says 23. I tell her that'll do: it's close enough. I ask her the same back. She tells me to guess and I say we're the same age. Then she tells me it's true - give or take. Then she does something unexpected:

Lawgirl: Actually, I'm not as old as you think.
Me: Well I reckon Stablegirl is younger, but not by much.
Lawgirl: You have to promise not to tell, but I'm 12 years older than her.
Me: What? (I was genuinely not expecting that).
Lawgirl: But you have to promise not to tell. I'm supposed to say we're both 24.
Me: Hang on. So if she's even if she's as young as 18 - that makes you 30. Is that how old you both are?
Her: Yes.
Me: Wow. Well you're youngest looking 30 year old I've met. I really didn't expect that.

More bullshit. She starts giving me fuck me eyes. But then Stablegirl comes back, face of thunder. I ask her if she's OK? She says she's fine, but there's no cigarettes. (Thinking about it I reckon I know why she was so angry looking - but this isn't the place for amateur psychoanalysis - I think I'll post about that in my blog).

Lawgirl then tells me they have to go or they'll miss the last train home. We go outside. I tell them to call me next time they are in town and give me their numbers. Stablegirl doesn't remember hers (?) and Lawgirl is only too happy to oblige with hers. I tell them I'm going to find my damn lazy friends and walk away. Should so have gotten them to give me a kiss on the cheek.

Oh, and can I re-rate a girl when I discover she's 8 years older than me, is smart, funny, assertive and ambitious and she starts giving me fuck-me eyes? She's now a 9 to me.

I'm now knackered from holding the set together for 2 hours (and my lack of sleep from last night). I decide to go and sit down, have a coffee and get my guide out to work out where to go next.

Set #2

I sit down outside, and I've barely had a sip when I hear North American accents at the table next to mine. I decide to instantly open.

Me: Hey are you guys American?
Bloke: No, we're canadian.
Me: Ah sorry. So what are you guys doing here? Tourists, students, do you work here?

As we start banter I light a cigarette and ugly next to me recoils in horror - the wind is blowing the smoke into her face.

Me: Don't worry, I'll move.

They tell me I don't have to, but I stand up, walk over and sit down at the most downwind part of their table. Finally take stock of the set properly. There's a HB8.5 whose now on my right. HB6, two uglies and a bloke.

More cocky funny. I discover some of them live here. Bloke (MrMaple) is visiting. HB 8.5 lives here, HB6 and the fuglies do also. I throw in my earlier time constraint for good measure. They ask me where to go that's outside where we can drink and get coffee for people who aren't drinking. I tell them it's a tall order and I'm not sure - but that I have the perfect book. They love my bar guide book - it's an excellent prop for tourists.

We find somewhere to go and move off. Fuglies leave! I'm left with HB6 and bloke (who are old friends), and a very quiet HB8.5 (who I'll call Vancouver) I open on HB8.5 and start asking her questions. She's not sure what to do with her life yadda yadda. She mentions she has a bf early on. I ignore it. I tell her she needs to work it out what to do with her life and ask her what her dreams and aspirations are. She won't play game. I tell her that, OK, I love my job, but if I could have any three jobs in the world I'd be: 1 - An Astronaut. 2 - A fighter jet pilot. 3 - A Top Gear* presenter. She laughs and then plays ball. Hers are singer, fasion designer and work in TV. I DHV by telling her about my job, suddenly she's into me a lot more. I carry on the bullshit and she starts lapping it up, becoming more animated and smiling.

We get to the place and then Vancouver tells me she has to go and get her boyfriend.

I'll skip the rest as it was more pleasant banter and the like. Time flies by and suddenly it's 1:00. We decide to go home. They live near me. I take charge and lead the way.

Then the most awesome thing happens. We're walking along and I'm telling them about my beard and how I'm raising money for a good cause. MrMaple tells me he'll give me a pound and starts hunting for his wallet. Out of no-where these two people turn up: they are dressed in the most outrageous pea-cocking style: flowerly black and yellow, enough bling to sink a boat, gelled back long hair. One of them puts his arm around MrMaple and locks in his leg and starts dancing, whilst the other starts singing. MrMaple has this big grin on his face, but I take a massive step back away from both as I know exactly what's going on.

Me: He's going for your wallet dude.
MrMaple: Huh?

I push the pickpocket away, rescue MrMaple and rotate and move round so I'm facing both of them.

Me: That was a really nice try - but you were just too slow.
Pickpocket: I don't know what your talking about.
Me: I saw your hand going for his fucking wallet. Now go away.

They leave. MrMaple nearly hugs me. He donates all his spare change to my beard.

Sweet - I'm now up to £7.43

The rest is uneventful. I number close HB6 and tell her to invite me out next time she's going out with her friends (I want to see Vancouver again). She says she will.

I go home. It's freezing. Travelling back to mine on the night buses takes about an hour and a half. I'm going to find a better route or I'm fucked when I bring a girl back.

Evaluation

Much more confident than night 1. Time constraints work brilliantly. Set pieces are amazingly good - need to find more games like Murder, Marry, Shag. Two number closes. Had a total of 3 alcoholic drinks in the whole evening - I'm really enjoying staying sober. I DHV'd enough to number close a 30 year old lawyer, who is about to be made partner! I'm a happy bastard :D

What can I do better? Well I chickened out of approaching two HB9's waiting at the bus stop on the way home after I left my Canadian set. I didn't get the first set to kiss me on the cheek. Not enough kino escalation. Perhaps still too many questions - albeit no dull ones.

What's next? Kino escalation. I want to try and kiss close. MUST convert some of these numbers into D2's. Will call up a few today.

Long post I know, but I've cut out as much as I didn't think was relevant, then I went back and re-edited. Thank you for reading this far and everyone's advice and comments will be very welcome.

* Top Gear is a TV programme over here, where the presenters drive around in supercars and do outrageous stunts and races.

Saturday 10 November 2007

Second night - here I come

Gearing up for Solo Night Out #2.

Earlier on today I was contemplating not going out. But no. I will not be weak. I will carry on until I come out the other end a fully fledged PUA.

Today's flat hunting turned into a lot of procrastinating, followed by buying the latest QG, a guide to London Bars, Pubs and Clubs, and a book called 1,000 things to do in London. I reckon if I try and make my D2's more interesting, not only will I get more out of it, but I reckon the girls will be more up for trying something a bit different. And it makes me look original.

Focus for tonight. Time constraints, treating everything like practice, funelling as many 8+ girls in as possible, not caring about outcome, using a variety of openers. I think I'm nervous about using one's I think may not work - but then until I try I'll never know. Time to find out!

Shower. Shave. Out.

Solo Night Out #1

A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. Yesterday I decided to go out on my own and pull some women. Now, in Europe or America that's not a scary concept in the slightest. Been there, done that etc... But in London it's terrifying.

Brits have a reputation for being cold and standoffish. This is not true at all. We are as friendly as anyone else, to our friends and people we know. We are however, some of the least friendly people I have ever met towards strangers. So, with this in mind I am really not looking forward to going out.

After my epic start on the tube I walked to the club and joined the queue. I tried opening the 3 set in front of me with blonde 8, her boyfriend and fugly. They don't take. It falls apart. 3 set joins from the rear with brunette 9, and a bloke I'm soon to discover is her husband. Damn. And she's out for the first time in six months since little baby was born. Ok. I stop gaming her and just chat to the three of them for half an hour whilst the rediculously slow moving queue inches forwards.

Inside I only open one set, a blonde 8. I'm pretty dire. No negs. No cocky funny. It falls apart. I struggle to resist my urge to get drunk. I know that when drunk I lose my inhibitions and I'll be fine. I resist. I don't drink. (In hindsight, perhaps I should have, everyone else there was getting that way).

There's a Paris Hilton lookalike blonde 10 in the club. She's surrounded by blokes. I chicken out and don't make the approach (idiot).

I leave. Walk around looking for the next venue and end up in this place, the name of which I cannot remember. I've never been to a place with uglier women. There was no-one above a five. Then blonde 8 walks out of the toilets. Thank fuck for that. I approach a nearby set and ask if they know where the nearest cigarette machine is whilst checking out blondie, they have no idea but give me a cigarette. She's mad, doing some matador bullfight crap towards her friend whose sitting down. I approach.

Me: "What are you some kind of matador?"
She laughs.
Her: "Yes, and my friend is the bull"
Me: "Your friend is the bull?" (mock horror), then to friend (fugly 4) "your friend called you a bull, that's not on".

Then go for a few question bits of bullshit. Fugly 4 decides to become fugly obstacle and gets up, announcing to friend that they are going for a cigarette, and tries to hustle her outside. I tell her that's great (I still have a cigarette in my hand), and ask if she has a light. I game her a bit and she's instantly into me (eugh). Fortunately HB 8 returns and I get back to her. She's swiss. She works in Luton. I tease her about being swiss and about living in Luton. Things carry on. It's cold. We go back inside. HB 8 says she's going home. I ask her for her number.

HB 8 lifts up her hand... engagement ring. Damn. By this point I've agreed to take them all (not realising that HB 8 was leaving) to a club in exchance for austrain chocolate that fugly had in her backpack (!?). Now I'm left with fugly (who now of course thinks it's on, cos seriously no sane guy would ever normally game her) and her four fugly friends who appear out of nowhere. We all walk outside and without saying goodbye I just walk down the street and disappear.

Next I hear talking in french and see some 8's in a large set. I walk over and shout in French

Me: You guys French?
French dude: Yeah.
Me: Good. I'm sick of English people right now. Can I hang out with you guys?

I start chatting to french 8, who is very very cute, until overprotective boyfriend drags her away giving me dagger eyes. French 7.5 brunette is trollied, but cute. Then she squats down between two cars and starts peeing. Classy :s

The start chatting to the blokes and tell them I'm actually English and masquarading as a French person. They love it (my French accent is impeccable). They tell me to take them to a pub, but by this point I can think of a couple of places, but have completely lost my bearings. One guy tells me he has google maps on his phone and fucks about with it for 10 minutes. The group is bored and we end up on Oxford street. We go to subway. Then they tell me they're going to a club in Old Street. That's east. I live west. I with them a good evening. Bum a fag off one (to americans reading this: bum a fag = get a cigarette), and decide to call it a night.

On the bus two blonde 7's are sitting behind me, wearing less cloth collectively than I have covering my feet. I can't tell if they are under age. I don't open the set (which I of course regretted).

Got back. 3:30 am. Freezing cold. Success... well considering I number closed on the tube I'm happy. And I conquored my fear.

Red 9 has blown me out for this evening. Might try it on with Red 8 (who loved the fact that I went to a blues bar last night) or Actress 10. Will definately try and escalate with Welsh 9 (though she's not actually welsh, just unfortunately happens to be there). And not heard back from Lebonese 9. Ah well, she had a boyfriend anyway.

Note. I've not had sex with any of these women, just number closed them and kiss closed one (Red 8). In fact I've not even number closed Actress 10 yet, I only mention her as she expressed some interest to a mutual friend yesterday- how much I'm not yet sure. Actress 10 would be a massive ego boost, she's just finished being in the new Sweeny Todd film and is a genuine 10 - stunning.

Number scoring: Women are rated on a scale of 1 to 10, with anyone below a 6 being unacceptable. HB 8 is therefore a good looking girl. 9's are stunners who are constantly chased by men. 10's are the ones that make your jaw physically drop.

HB = ..... hot babe? I'm not entirely sure, but I think that's right.

Fuck - I've had 4 hours sleep and want to go out again tonight. And I'm supposed to go flat hunting today.

Day Game #1

Ok. Day game. Terrifying concept. I thought I would put this off a lot longer, mainly because I reckon people are more defensive towards strangers, and therefore harder to open during the day. Also day game tends to target single women a lot more. Last night therefore I had no intention of working on my day game.

I walk into the tube station near where I live and I'm dressed for going out: warm clothes for the winter. Nothing outrageous, although I am wearing the most excellent shirt underneath a blue jumper and blue leather jacket. I've just started growing a gotee and I know that my image tonight is good. As I walk down the stairs to the tube HB 8 walks past me with killer legs. She walks down the platform and stands about 5 meters away. At this point she is completely unaware of my existence.

The train approaches and I start walking down the platform. This was semi strategic: it's quite normal to be walking down the platform, but I knew she would be looking towards the train, thus I enter her field of vision. I'm walking with confidence and as she glances at I smile at her and she smiles back. The train stops and she gets on through the door which is now nearest me, and despite there being a door nearer her she steps through mine. (I take this as a mini IOI).

She sits down and I place myself diagonally opposite her. At this point I'm still not really contemplating making a move and I'm worrying about going out in town to pull women on my own for the first time. I pick up a paper that's on the ajacent seat and start flicking through it, barely reading. I end up on a page with an ad for gilette razors with a load of funky facial hair shapes, and as if a lightbulb went off I have an idea. My heart starts beating faster, my throat gets a little drier. I start talking myself out of it. No. Focus. Live for the moment.

Me: "Hi can I ask you for advice on something?"
She looks up.
Me: "Have you heard of movember?"
She: "Yeah when you grow a beard for charity?"
Me: "Yeah, well I've just started the other day. Which of these designs do you reckon would suit me?"
She laughs.

We start talking shit. I tell her I'm going to a blues club. She loves the idea of going to a blues club. She works near where I live. I sense a level of attaction. She lives in St Albans. We carry on talking until I'm a stop away from my destination.

Me: "Can I have your number?"
She: "Your forward aren't you"
Me: "Yeah well I'm getting off at the next stop so you have to make a decision. Yes or no. Choose quickly".
She: "Give me your phone, I'll type it in".

I could tell she then went very akward. It's uncomfortable enough talking to a stranger on a tube, but when you're giving out your number on a by now packed train with every bastard around listening... well I would feel akward too.

Me on the other hand? I walked out of that tube station with a cheshire cat grin on my face. My first day number close, on a crowded tube train, on the start of my first night out. I felt like the most awesome man alive.

IOI = indicator of interest.

Aims of this blog

Ok, well we've gone over what you the reader should think about when you're working out what you want to achieve, and we've talked a little about what I want to achieve as a person. But what about this blog?

Here, as time moves forward, you will find:
  • My journey from average to awesome.
  • Advice on how to improve game.
  • Advice on how to improve inner game (or character).
  • Reviews on the best products out there.
  • Reviews of the best venues in London for pickup, where to take day D2's etc.
D2 = Day 2 (second date).

Stating your intent

Starting out with a goals is a damn good thing, they'll motivate you and give you something to aspire to. No only that, but they'll hopefully give you some structure to what you want to achieve. I'll list my goals in a minute, but first I think I want to throw in a word of advice that I've repeatedly had thrown at me.

It's very easy to read read read and absorb everything you can on the subject of going out and meeting women. You can learn a dozen lines and routines and set pieces and provided you copy these there's every chance you can go out and learn to become a very good PUA. The trouble with this is that you then become a social clone. Character is fundamental to good game. You will not find the answers online (in any case the real answers are out walking around in pubs, clubs, bars, parties, bookshops and coffee houses), but in terms of the concept of developing good game, all the answers will have to come from within. By all means do read books, watch DVD's, go to seminars , bootcamps and the rest, but working on your character (or inner game) is key. I'll write more on this later.

My reason for becoming a PUA is simple enough, I want to:
  • Have unshakeable confidence in myself to attract the prettiest women in the world.
And along the way I have a number of things I want to achieve:
  • Consistantly be able to attract a women and have sex with her in any country where I speak the language.
  • Travel the world picking up women.
  • Focus on quality over quantity: so far I've had sex hundreds of times, but with a very small number of quality. Only ever had a single ONS*.
  • Become a good enough PUA to be able to teach other men to achieve similar results.
  • And then some silly ones, but they should be fun:
  • Have sex with an A list celebrity.
  • Have sex with a girl in every continent in the world.
  • Have sex with a girl of every major race (oh sorry, am i not being PC? I of course mean ethnicity).
  • Have sex whilst driving a car at high speed.
  • Have a threesome.
  • Get arrested for having sex somewhere totally outrageous.
  • Have an FB in every major city I work in and regularly visit.
  • Steal a girl off a celebrity.
Ok I don't really mean the last one.

No.

Actually I do!

* I will try and remember to do this and write out my abbreviations the first time I use them: I'll also put up a page on all the abbrevations I use. ONS = One Night Stand. FB = Fuck Buddy.

Me

Is there any other way to start a blog than write about who I am? Perhaps. Here's a shot:

Man has a primary purpose in his life, more important than anything else he will ever do: reproduce. If you don't reproduce your genes die out, and our genes are the only thing we have that can outlive us and have any real meaning. Men who don't reproduce lose a lot more than life when they die, they lose their entire bloodline.

I'm young man whose managed to naturally acquire some comfort around women. I'm not a bonefide natural, but I can go out and attract a woman without trying too hard. For whatever reason, ego perhaps, boredom with a string of 'ok' relationships, or simply knowing I can achieve more I've decided to take my game to the next level. My plan is to become one of the leading pick up artists.

This blog is my attempt to catalogue my journey, in the hope that others can learn from it. It may also be a damn good and useful blog if you have little or no game, as I'm coming from this at a slightly different angle from the other excellent PUA's out there. These guys have serious game, I don't. I'm a normal guy and this is going to be a long journey. I recommend you read these guys, I'll link to the good ones as I find them. This should be good though, as it's proof that you can start out with low game and get damned damned good.