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Nice bike.

This lay was TWO whole weeks ago, the longest I’ve ever put off doing a report after a lay since I started this blog. There are three reasons for that;

  1. This lay slots firmly into the vanilla category as discussed in the preamble of my last post.
  2. She wasn’t that hot. High 6, low 7 at best.
  3. I’ve been rather busy and am struggling to finish anything at the moment. I’ve got 4 posts half written, one will be a little controversial and I look forward to the pot being stirred when I publish it.

I will keep this relatively short due to reasons 1 and 2…

It was the beginning of August, a beautifully sunny day in London and it was probably the first day I felt upbeat after traversing the worst of my post Euro Jaunt blues. I was solo, popping off set after set and had just number closed a high 8 that was leaving the next day.  We arranged to meet for a drink later that evening and all I was thinking was SDDL, my vibe was reaching peak Euro Jaunt levels on Oxford street. Madness.

I walked towards Tottenham court road with a big grin on my face and people probably thought I was crazy. I spotted a short athletic looking brunette walking towards me. She was wearing tight jeans and a white boob tube which showed off a tanned, flat stomach and a nice hip to waist ratio. I didn’t get a good look at her face but she had a cracking body.

When I got in front I saw that her face wasn’t as good as her body, she looked older than her athletic frame, maybe late 20’s and her skin was tough, it had seen more than enough sun. I produced words of which I no recollection and she seemed to like them. As I talked to her I had a quick look over her shoulder, she was very short so this was not difficult. In the distance I could see the 8 I’d just closed walking straight towards us. FUUUUCK!

I left control of the set to my well drilled muscle memory and assessed my options.

  1. I could carry on as normal and hope the 8 wouldn’t see me talking to this rotter (in comparison)
  2. I could grab rotter by the arm and pull her into the shop we were standing outside
  3. I could leave rotter for dead
  4. I could request rotter to walk with me

I went with option 4. I turned and started walking away from the oncoming 8, yes, it went against every fibre in my being. Rotter followed. We jabbered on about fitness, I told her how I had just bought a new pair of trainers and how I don’t normally wear trainers, I normally wear big manly cowboy boots, trainers are gay. She was lapping it up and starting lots of new threads of conversation. I glanced back over my shoulder and the 8 was keeping pace about 20m behind us. I thought for certain she will have seen us. We got all the way to Tottenham court road, I looked back again and the 8 was nowhere to be seen.

I tried to idate the rotter but she told me she was on her way home to pack before she went on holiday to her home country of Portugal for three weeks. Great.

I took her number and we went our separate ways.

I pinged the 8 an hour before we were due to meet (we agreed in set) and it stayed on two grey ticks, she flaked. She must have seen me with the rotter after all.

Rotter was a very keen texter, sending me the first text and sending me lots of beach pics whilst she was on holiday. If I ever had to bet my house on calling a notch before the D2, I would have bet it on this one.


We set up the date for the day after she got back from her holiday. She turned up dressed to the nines and was wearing pink high heels, a beige dress which parted at her stomach to show off her impressive midriff and had put on quite a bit of make-up. I turned up in my usual jeans and T-Shirt and voiced her disappointment before even saying hello, “this is you dressing cute?!” I made an internal memo never to use the “dress cute so we match” text again.

I took her to two pubs then took her home and banged her. She put up resistance every step of the way, but it was all face saving. I just knew from the way she was texting before our first date, the way she dressed and how she reacted to nearly everything I said that she was gagging for it. However, it took me 5 attempts to get the first kiss, 3 invites back to the flat before she complied and about 30 minutes of LMR in the bedroom.

I’m still wondering what could have been with that 8, the joys of daygame.

3 thoughts on “Lay Report: Losing the daygame lottery

  1. I know you’re not into this report… and I think I picked the wrong night to catch up w/ your blog…

    >> it took me 5 attempts to get the first kiss
    But ^ this is awesome.
    Most guys can never imagine kissing a girl mid-date… let alone getting rejected and trying again… or again… or again… or again… and BINGO.

    *clap clap clap*


  2. The 8 probably didn’t see you with the girl, women generally aren’t that observant especially when they are going shopping etc.

    It makes sense that hot girls are much more likely to flake than average or not so good looking girls, they have higher value and therefore more options (real or just perceived). Thats why most daygamers don’t hook up with 8s and definitely not with 9s and 10s. Its hard to show a lot of value in 5/6 mins on the street and snag a solid close with a 9 or 10.


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