Monday, May 26, 2008

Keep your eye on the prize/Handling DrunkyPants

For those of you who haven't yet taken a bootcamp, The Don's got one in NYC in a few weeks that I'll be working. There may be a few spots left. Sign up fast!

I made a really silly mistake tonight, gentlemen, so I want to warn you and hopefully you will not get so cocky that you make silly mistakes as well.

I was out tonight meeting ladies and ended up opening up an awesome set. One dude, two girls. They were all super friendly. My target, DrunkyPants, was recently single and hilarious and hot, so of course I spent a good amount of time talking to her. The only problem was that she was steadily getting drunker and drunker.

DrunkyPants got so drunk that she started dancing around the bar, grinding against chairs and pulling men onto the dance floor. Luckily, I knew exactly what to do in this situation.

Drunk women love attention. Let me amend that: all women love attention, drunk women NEED attention. It becomes the singular purpose of their existence to get men to flirt, touch, and play with them, all the while being protected by their sober friends from doing anything they'd regret in the morning. Normally you'd just get your wings to distract the obstacles, then you could do whatever you want to the drunk girl. However, sometimes girls get SO drunk that your attention isn't nearly enough. They want to party and dance and throw their hands up in the air and go YEAH every time Kanye West comes on.

So how do you deal with this? Well, you have to be the guy in the bar who is special and not giving her what she wants. You have to ignore her, but you have to do it in a way that she notices you ignoring her. This is when it comes in handy to befriend the obstacles.

Here is a quick breakdown of the interaction:

I knew I was in trouble when she started talking to some guy for more than a minute. Usually dudes bail at this point, but she was drunk enough to seem like she was interested, so I went over and introduced myself to this potential suitor.

It is not necessary to fight the guy. Just prove that you are cooler than him, then walk away. How do you prove that you are cooler than some guy? Simple. Attraction switches, sexual framing, and owning the interaction.

BB: How do you know DrunkyPants?
Guy: I just met her.
BB: You're perfect for her. I should know. We used to date. Well, we used to do it, but she got too attached.
DP (DrunkyPants, not donkey punch): WHATEVER! I broke up with YOU!
(She's playing along. An IOI)
BB: Also, she couldn't handle me.
DP: I want to DANCE!
(subtext: Pay attention to me!)
BB: Go dance.
(subtext: No.)
DP: (confused) Come dance with me.
BB: I'm afraid you'll rape me on the dance floor.
DP: But...
BB: (to guy) You guys should dance.
Guy: (to DP) Do you want to dance?
(BB walks away to talk to the target's friends)

End the interaction on your terms and maintain dominance over the set. Always.

DrunkyPants goes to dance with said gentleman, and many others, all the while looking back at Big Business to see how jealous he is getting, but finding instead that he is having a great time talking to HER friends. THEY are laughing. THEY are having a great time. DrunkyPants thinks to herself, "Why is Big Business spending time talking to my friend who isn't as hot as me? I want to be laughing and having a great time too!"

DP (jumping onto BB's lap): What're you doing?
BB: Having an awesome conversation with your friend here until you interrupted.
DP: I'm sorry I got so drunk.
Obstacle: Don't be sorry. You had a tough week.
BB: (to obstacle) I like your jewelry.
DP: (to BB) You're HOT!

Whoop. There it is.

BB: (to obstacle) Your friend here keeps on saying such nice things to me. "You've got great eyes. You're really funny" I'm starting to think she likes me.
Obstacle: You might be right.
DP: (to BB) I bet I can get you off in less than five minutes.
BB: Tell you what? Let's go into the bathroom and your friend here can time you.
DP: YAY! Lets do it!

Totally on. No question. Sexual framing is on autopilot. Drunk physical escalation is the easiest there is. I have to stop her from giving me a hickey at one point...

...but here is where the retardedness happened. I was having so much fun with push/pull and getting this girl to say awesome shit to me that I actually forgot something very, very important.

Here is the end of the interaction:

DP: This is what I would do to your asshole if you want. (does hand motion)
BB: (to obstacle) I think you need to get your friend home before she takes her clothes off or something.
DP: Give me your number and I'll put it in my cleavage!
BB: I think we might be too late. It was nice to meet you all.
DP: Promise to call me?
BB: I promise. Just don't fall down on your way out of here.

I put them all in a cab, then reached for my phone to send the first text. It was going to be perfect. "I'm going to call you tomorrow like I promised. Try not to vomit on your friends." Then the realization hit...

I FORGOT TO GET HER NUMBER! WHAT?! FUCK! It was so on that I figured the number had just magically flown into my phone. IDIOT!

Yes, there will be other hotter sets. But...christ...that would have been an easy close.

Apparently, Big Business needs to go back to business school, bitches.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

LR: Britzilla

For those of you that have been following my lays, I've just slept with another college girl. Only a matter of time, apparently, before I hit the entire dean's list.

But I digress.

I went out this past Friday with a friend of mine who is an incredible natural. We'll call him "Superman." Since I've been involved with Love Systems I've tried to explain, using the seduction model, how money he is, but he's a little modest so he's not hearing it. I drop a little knowledge on him every once in awhile to try and get him to Jedi status, but tonight was our first time going out to meet ladies together.

We opened up some girl on the street with our natural banter and she was instantly in love with us, which segues nicely into my first talking point.

POINT) You want to get to a level with your wings where you can actually have fun with them without talking to women. When I first started game I used to travel with a cockfarm that would go to bars and not talk to each other. We would all just hunt the venue like a bunch of rape sharks.

We felt like talking to each other would be a cop out and would give us too good of an excuse to not talk to girls.

I would say you want the opposite. One of the things you are trying to sub communicate is that you are the party, and if she is good then you will allow her to be apart of your awesome fun train. If you don't want to talk to your wings (your "friends" in this situation), it looks like you guys are trying to find a party to join. However, if you and your wings are smiling, laughing, and having an awesome time, then when you open people they will want to talk to you so they can maybe smile, laugh, and have an awesome time as well.

Just don't be having such a good time that you don't talk to any women.

This girl was exactly Superman's type: tall, cute, college girl with big boobs. She was in love with us and really wanted to hang out, but was having trouble connecting the dots, so I used my giant brain to help her out.

BB: Where are the hot bars in this neighborhood? Where are you and your girls partying tonight?

Subtext: We are down for hanging out if you want.

She started to tell us about some joints, then she just whipped out her phone. "I'll just call you guys when we get to bla bla bla." Golden. Just to make sure she knows what's going on, I drop this on her as well.

BB: You're awesome. Are your friends awesome as well?

Subtext: Bring friends. I'm not just going to meet up with you so you can fuck Superman here.

We hit a few bars, talked to some ladies, then met up with college girl and her two best-ies around 2am. They were all cute, but I sidled up to Britzilla, who was a solid 8 before taking into account that she is only 22 and fucks like a thousand-dollar-an-hour hooker. That bumps her up to a 10, in my humble opinion.

The fun thing about going out with a natural is that they're not always on point with the subtleties of the craft. At the start of the interaction we were standing on the outside of the set and the girls had their backs to us, like this:

Why do women make things so hard? Superman's target clearly wanted to party, so why would she arrange her friends like that?

Trying to communicate in that configuration=a lot of effort on our part, so I pulled Superman aside and told him the objective: lock in. Be more comfortable then they are. I stole Britzilla's seat, which was next to Superman's target, then put him in the seat and isolated Britzilla. Like so:

Now it's smooth sailing. It was perfect. We put the obstacle in between our two mini-isolations so that we could all take turns distracting her. Also, we arranged it so that when the girls were facing us they couldn't see each other. That is what you want. When girls can't see each other, they A) can't use secret girl-glance communication to fuck up our game, and B) will act as though they are alone with you.

Superman, overly excited by the sexual energy being shared between him and his target, started making out with her in the bar, but in that tender "hold hands and get married" sort of way. That's great, but it is not as exciting/useful as "do dirty things to you" making out, which girl's don't do in front of their friends because they don't want to look like whores (usually). Superman got into the "serious boyfriend" zone with his target, which meant no same night sex, because she didn't want to ruin it by sleeping with him too early. I don't make out in bars at all anymore, and thar be one of the reasons why.

Britzilla and I were having a great conversation, but it wasn't getting to that point where I knew the hook up was inevitable, and that made me nervous. Even so, I continued to hit attraction switches and maintained dominance over the interaction. I told her where we were going ("Let's move over here."), gave her orders to test compliance ("Let me see your hands."), and cut threads that were of no use to me. She was a little uncomfortable with extended touching on account of her friends were around, so everything had to be very subtle. Little hand grabs, leg presses, and my now signature hand up the back of the shirt, which is super money; tame and sexy at the same time and totally inconspicuous, like a little mini-conspiracy.

We walked the girls back to their dorm room. Superman held his target's hand back to her place, while I kept my hands busy pretending to text, occasionally bumping into her when she said something ridiculous (physical disqualifier/escalating touch). Outside the dorm Superman's target turns to him and says, "You can't come upstairs tonight. I have to get up early." I turn to Britzilla.

BB: Have you got booze upstairs?
Brit: Yeah.
BB: I need a drink to get the taste of pizza out of my mouth. Why did you give me pizza? Now you have to give me something to wash it down.
Brit: Come upstairs and have a drink!

Plausible deny-ability. All you need is any excuse to get upstairs, no matter how thinly veiled.

I went upstairs with Britzilla. Superman had super adorable make out time with his target then walked home.

I sat on Britzilla's bed and ran through some of my usual comfort material. I knew that we were free to hook up now that we were out of her friends' sight, so I just waited for a moment when she did something I liked, then rewarded her with a kiss on the neck. Then it was on.

Two more points before we wrap:

POINT) The time from when it is obvious that you are going to hook up to when you are actually hooking up is killer (if you don't know when it is obvious that you are going to hook up, just take a cue from Braddock. If you are in a situation that you would not want to be in with a gay guy ie drinking in a bedroom at 4am, then it is probably safe to assume that you will be hooking up soon). You need to use that time to tease the girl physically. Make her constantly think you are about to go in, then don't. In Austin, TX I was invited back to this girl's apartment, so we went into the kitchen to make drinks. She got me a beer, then started cutting limes.

BB: Don't even think about putting a lime in my beer.

The girl, then, goes to put the lime in my beer, so I have to wrestle it out of her hands. I end by picking her up and pinning her against the wall. There is a pause...sexual tension builds...then...

BB: You promise to stay away from my beer?

The girl nods her head.

BB: Alright then.

I turn around, get my beer, then go sit in the living room.
I used something similar on Britzilla. After kissing her on the neck I got off the bed and got my drink.

BB: Do you watch "Scrubs"?

POINT) Women like sex just as much as men do. Moreover, it is possible to turn a woman on the same way it is for a man to get turned on.

Imagine that you are in bed with your girlfriend. It is late. She wants to have sex. You don't. What is she going to do to you to make you want to have sex with her? Where and how is she going to touch you?

Guys, this is the secret. You can do the same thing to women, and it will have the same effect.

I love happy endings.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

DC...again! (Part 3)

After class on Saturday I started texting TheBat to meet up with me around 2am after the infield, but she had a bedtime so that was a no go.

TheBat: What about earlier?
BB: My DC friends are pissed that I haven't made time for them yet. (LIES!)
TheBat: Poo! I've got work on Sunday.
BB: What are you, a nun? Come out around 2am.
TheBat: Ha! Come back to DC next weekend? :)

We'll see, little one. We'll see.

While I was a little too busy with the students to pull anything for myself this evening, there were a few moments that I would like to share with you all.

First of all, here is a picture of a girl one of the students isolated on the first night:

Cute. Sweet. Friendly. Nothing to be ashamed about. is a picture of that same student with a girl on the second night:

The system works, my friends. The system works.

Second, Puzzler came to join me upstairs at one point, followed by some very loudly dressed gentlemen. They started to stare at me, so, being the friendly guy that I am, I introduced myself.

BB: Hi!
SomeGuy: Hey man. We're from the lair.
BB: Oh, were you guys at the talk on Thursday?
SomeGuy: Nah. We're from the bla bla bla lair.
BB: Oh.!
SomeGuy: So, you're teaching a bootcamp this weekend?
BB: That's right. I'm here with Puzzler, The Don and Knoxville.
SomeGuy: Well, how about a little friendly competition?
BB: Sorry man, but I'm with students right now. Good luck, though.

Now, obviously I don't know this guy very well, so I'm not going to make any prejudgments on his game or general character, but I heard similar stories come from the other instructors that night and they worry me.

It does not matter what other guys in this community think about you. You do not need to prove to anybody...ANYBODY...that you are good at game or a valuable person or whatever. The only thing that matters is that you make progress at your own pace. If you are dating one girl and are happy as a clam, do not think that you have to ditch her so you can open more sets, or have a three-some or something (unless that's what YOU want). Get good enough so you can be happy, and fuck whatever anybody else says is "success."

I am NOT SAYING that this is what SomeGuy's motivation was, but just in case, let me set the record straight. I am most definitely not some sort of gunslinger set on establishing my dominance in pick up. What matters to me is that my game is really good, not worrying whether it is better than some other guy's. That type of mindset is antithetical to everything I like about game. I enjoy sleeping with women, but what I enjoy even more is supporting my boys, whether that be by helping them get over approach anxiety or simply distracting the ugly obstacle.

And as a side note, I spend enough of my free time making trivial bets with dudes, like "I'll bet I can eat more fries," or "Race you to the car." When I'm out at a bar, I'm there to either meet ladies or help my friends and students meet ladies.

Okay. I'm off my soapbox now.

And lastly, as part of some drunken desire to entertain ourselves, The Don, Knoxville and I set about disqualifying the shit out of ourselves to some girl who was in the front seat with our cab driver.

Girl: You guys get pizza or something?
Don: Yeah. I had too much. It's coming out of my ears.
BB: Well, then you shouldn't have filled up on semen before you left the house.
Knoxville: I told you that you were drinking too much semen!
Girl: Ugh. Are you guys gay?
Don: No! God! We didn't get the semen by sucking dicks or anything.
BB: Yeah! We drank it out of a cup like normal human beings.
Don: Seriously. We got it from Wholefoods. There's a whole section there next to the eggs and shit.
Knoxville: It's organic. No preservatives or hormones added. All free range.

Then we giggled like little girls until we got back to the hotel (and a little the next day).

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

DC...again! (Part 2)

The seminar started on Friday, after which I went back to the hotel to grab a nap, then headed out to do the infield. At the end of the night I ended up winging for a student who managed to snag a super hot two set back to his hotel. I assumed that it was the same as my hotel. I was wrong, and I paid the consequences for it.

The four of us ended up hanging out in the student's hotel room, which meant something had to give if anything fun was going to happen. The student kept shooting me worried looks from across the room, as if to say, "Help, Big Business! What the hell are we supposed to do?" Never fear, student. Big Business is here.

BB (to obstacle): Let's go have a cigarette outside.

Obstacle: Good idea. (to target and student) Let's all go outside and have a cigarette.

BB (to self): Fuck. That didn't work.


BB (to obstacle): Come here. I want to show you something funny.

I dragged her down the street away from the target and student, and kept the conversation hot so she wouldn't notice that I had nothing funny at all to show her. It was working, but then the target texts obstacle to come back, though, so we all head back upstairs.

BB (to self): FUCK! This is bullshit!

-back in the hotel room-

BB (to obstacle): Have you seen that thing on youtube with the baby getting kicked by the break dancer?

Obstacle: No. Is it funny?

BB: You've got to see it. Let's go back to my room and check it out.

(How I was going to explain that I wasn't a guest of this hotel is beyond me. I was going to wing it.)

Obstacle: Why don't we just watch it on that computer?

BB: The wireless doesn't work on that computer.

Student: Yes it does.

What the fuck, student? I'm trying to help you out.

Finally, I get the obstacle outside for another cigarette and move her quickly so she doesn't invite the world again.

Outside, I do a little experiment. I go into some deep, deep comfort. Real heavy shit. Broken dreams. Hospitalized family. Dead friends. I tell a story. She tells a story. We reveal and relate. Then, just as we've got out little bond going, I drop this bomb:

BB: Man, this is deep. You wanna hear a rape joke?

Tension broken. Obstacle laughs and looks back at me with that, "Who are you?" look, which basically means that the hook up in the elevator is inevitable. I had just learned something: this kind of emotional journey is girl crack.

I start to pull into the hotel bathroom, but target texts obstacle that she wants to leave.

Well, as Decartes once wrote, "No evening is fully wasted if you touch at least one titty."