Lay report: Silly Spanish

She’s not this hot but the body was similar

This will be a short, unenthusiastic post as that is how I felt about the pick up from start to finish…

It was a typical post work session, a Tuesday evening, not much about and I was generally pissing into the wind. I bumped into Ricky Roma and decided to wing with him. We were walking up Oxford street towards Tottenham Court road when a girl walking towards us gives me a heavy IOI, she stares at me for a good 4 or 5 seconds before passing. Ricky said something along the lines of “you have to go”.
At that moment I was torn, I really didn’t fancy her, she was a 6 at best. Relatively short, Spanish looking, with some acne on her face, but it’s not like there was much better about.

I jogged to catch up, forced a smile on my face for the open and proceeded through the motions. Then I got a whiff of her breath, It was terrible, I almost gagged in her face it was that bad, she must have eaten some funky shit for dinner.

I forced myself through the set thinking to myself that bad breath is only temporary, I can always offer her a gum. We got to the part where she tells me her job. She’s a personal trainer. This piqued my interest. I grabbed her bicep and squeezed it, “no you’re not” I challenged. She laughed hysterically.

We were about 5 minutes in now so I took the number and let her go.

A few hours later she text me first saying that it was nice to meet me. Keen. I examined her Whatsapp pic and decided her body was quite nice.

I tried to set up the date for Thursday. She said she was busy and proposed Saturday night instead. Always a good sign.

Saturday rolls along, I ping her at around 3pm to confirm the date for 8pm. She reads it, two blue ticks and then her profile picture disappeared. She blocked me, Spanish girls are weird.

It gets to around 7pm then I get a message from her saying that she’s just seen my message and proposed to meet at 8.30pm instead. I agreed.

I meet her and she’s scrubbed up nicely, she’s wearing black heel boots, tight black jeans, a tight black top and a leather jacket. She’s put some make-up on to cover the acne and her breath doesn’t stink. She’s just about scraping a 7 now.

I took her for a drink near Oxford Circus then onto a second venue in Kingly street. I kissed her in the second venue and then suggested going for a drink in my area. She agreed.

We took an Uber which took over 30mins and it killed my momentum. When we got there she announced she was hungry so I took her to a pizza place. She ate it then I suggested a glass of wine at my place. She said no, not on the first date. I smiled and said “just one glass”. Ok.

We get to my place I show her around. I pour us some wine, she uses the toilet, then I go. We chit chat for 5 minutes before all clothes are off and we’re fucking in the lounge. Candy from a baby.

She stayed over, we did it again in the morning before I walked her back to the tube.

Least satisfying lay of the year, but I guess a notch is a notch.

 

 

Advertisements

Nonotchvember

503248723

I am sat at Luton airport waiting to fly out to visit my Turkmen for a long weekend. I was here a couple of months ago full of optimism as myself and Xants drank pints and waited for the flight to Belgrade. The mood is different this time, I’m drinking coffee and when I get there I won’t be doing any approaching, but I’ll still be getting laid. This is the life of a daygamer, I paid 90 quid for a flight to somewhere with more favourable weather and free accommodation to spend the weekend with a hot girl.

As I sit here I have been reflecting on what was largely a shit month. Here’s the numbers…

Approaches: 109

Sessions: 21

Numbers: 20

Facebooks: 3

Flakes: 18

iDates: 1

Dates: 1

Proper Daygame Notches: 0

Guttergame Notches: 1

“Nightgame” Notches: 1

However, it was quite eventful;

  • 2 notches – not that proud of either
  • Trump Presidency – still waiting on my money but I’m just glad I didn’t lose.
  • Met the Street Attraction lads – nice chaps
  • Passed out during a daygame session – idiot
  • Met Craig Cassidy – nice chap

My pussy slaying powers seemed to drop off as quickly as the mercury in the thermometer. This was despite the fact that I went out more than any previous month this year. As the fair weather daygamers began their retreat to relationships or went into “hibernation” I was determined to sarge on into the cold night. I was solo for roughly half of the 21 sessions, the rest I mainly winged with Ricky Roma and couple of other guys. Ricky Roma is probably the only one who gamed as much, if not more than me in November (that I know of).

The vibe on the streets changed significantly, the dreamy girls were hiding under big puffy coats and were no longer dreamy. They were now determined to get from A to B as quickly as possible and weren’t stopping for any charming bastard.

The numbers clearly reflect this. I got 20 numbers from 21 sessions. 18 of them flaked, they didn’t all flake straight away, some replied a few times, some arranged to meet then didn’t show, 1 came on a idate then flaked. I’m still texting one of them and I have been on two dates with the other. I stand a fairly good chance of fucking her so it wasn’t all for nothing, but it was a mother fucking grind. I wasn’t alone with the high flake rate, fellow daygamers reported similar stats but it was still disheartening.

You may wonder why I bothered. Well, I didn’t have much else better to do. I was invited to social events with my pre-game/‘real’ friends on several occasions but I politely declined so that I could go and walk the miserable streets by myself. Have I gone mad? Am I obsessed? Or do I just like pussy? I think it’s the last one. Obviously as men in game, we are all obsessed with pussy and we all have different methods and techniques of acquiring it.

I’m reading Scott Adams’ book – how to fail at almost everything and still win big at the moment. He’s a very funny author and there’s some great mindwank in there, a lot of which resonates with daygame. One concept that struck a chord was “Pick the delusion that works”…

He explains how people believe doing one specific thing will influence the outcome of another event. One of the examples he gives is a professional tennis player wearing his lucky socks in the belief that they will help him win his tennis match. In reality the socks should have nothing to do with the outcome, it should be his skills as a tennis player. But because he believes they will, he plays better and more often than not, goes on to win.

So basically, whatever you think works for you, will probably work for you.

My delusion is that if I keep approaching consistently without any hibernation/meltdown/girlfriend/value building periods I will only get better and slay infinite amounts of pussy. I realise this delusion could backfire spectacularly at any moment, but until then, you will find me roaming the streets of central London.

December can only be better, right?