I collected my third daygame notch  of the year and 64th of my players journey last weekend. Only 36 to go  before I take up my pew in Mount Olympus along side Zeus, Apollo, Poseidon and co. I’m most looking forward to hanging out with Dionysus, the god of wine – he seems a proper baller . But I digress, here’s another story…
8 February 2019
It was a Friday evening and there wasn’t much about on the streets. I was out with one of my original wings from Dublin. We were walking down Carnaby when I spotted a short brunette throw an IOI my way as we got to the bottom of the street. She wasn’t stunning – dressed quite plain but with a pretty face and nice curves, a low 7. “Aaaah fuck it”. In I went.
Sara was Turkish, had moved to London a few months back for an internship and was on her way to meet some friends for dinner. It was quite a fizzy set and towards the end I threw an old school neg at her and she bit hard;
You are pretty, I like your big brown eyes, you could get lost in them… but you should get rid of the resting bitch face, you’d be much prettier and more guys would approach you – She’d already told me this was so strange for her.
Hahaha, I don’t have a resting bitch face! I’m normally smiling, I’m fun, you’ll see!
I guess you will have to prove that me, Sara.
I took her number and we agreed to meet another time. As I walked back to rejoin my friend I told him I had a very good feeling about that one.
15 February 2019
After some back and forth over text I got her out the following Friday. We met at Baker street, she turned up on time looking much prettier than when we’d met on the street wearing tight black jeans and a tight white top which made her big breasts almost jump out at me, they were hard not to stare at.
I took her to the pub and she gave me a full on interrogation; how often do you do this? why don’t you just do tinder like everyone else? how old are you? why are you single? are you some sort of player? It felt as if all girls were given the same script in their girl game manual, not us, the PUA’s. I swatted the same questions away with the same answers – but it was unusual to get them all one after the other without us barely touching our drinks. As we walked to the next venue she announced…
OK the interrogation is over now, you can relax.
Oh thanks! But can I? How do I know you’re not a serial killer?
We got a couch in the next place and I ordered us a bottle of wine. The conversation flowed and we were soon kissing. Afterwards I walked us to the front door of my apartment and she wobbled. As I walked in the front door she just stood there…
I can’t do this – not tonight.
I grabbed her hand and tried to pull her inside assuring her that she could leave if she felt uncomfortable.
No – I should go home.
I walked her back to the tube and as I went to kiss her goodbye…
Come with me.
To your place?
Just come with me.
I wasn’t sure if she just wanted me to walk her to her front door, or if she wanted me to come to her place and I’m sure her subconscious kept this detail sketchy on purpose – so I forced her off the fence…
Where do you live?
4 stops away.
I’ll come if you invite me in when we get there.
You know what, never mind.
As she walked off I wasn’t sure if I’d made the right move. Did I just burst the bubble and pass up a notch? Or was she just trying to tool me so that she would have company on her tube ride home? I slept on it and when I woke up I was sure it was the former.
Friday 22 February 2019
I got her back out the following Friday. Sara had been ill all week and told me that she had just about recovered. We met at 8pm at Bond Street this time and when she turned up I was not impressed. She was dressed very casually in trainers, jeans, a jumper and a big coat. Straight away she told me that she still wasn’t 100 % and was feeling tired.
We had agreed over text to go for food, something I never normally do, but I’d agreed on the basis that this would just be a time filler until she felt more comfortable to bang on the next date. I walked us to the nearest honest burger and when we sat down I ordered a beer and she declared that she wasn’t drinking. FUCK! I wrote the lay off fully now. Despite this, I enjoyed hanging out with her and constantly took the piss out of her without her realising until it was too late. For example, after she took 10 minutes to chose a burger from the very limited menu I asked her if she thought she was a decisive person…
Yes, I’m very decisive! Well, sometimes… I guess it depends.
I looked at her as if to say “Really?” and she packed up laughing after she’d realised what she’d just said. I went on to explain to her why men climb the corporate ladder faster than women and deserved to get paid more as a result. At first she was outraged by my “sexist, chauvinistic opinions”, but by the end of the meal she was agreeing with me.
As we finished our food I text my flat mate asking if he was keen to go for a few beers, this wasn’t going anywhere and it was Friday night after all. I paid the bill (£30) as Sara had paid the bill at the speakeasy (£50!) the previous week and we left the restaurant. I went to walk her back to the tube and she asked where we were going.
Well you’re not feeling well, I assumed you were going home and I’ll just go meet my mates.
No! Let’s go for a glass of wine.
Oh – OK. – Clearly I’d gotten the wrong end of the stick.
I walked her in the direction of my apartment and she must have been conscious of this as she had been to my front door the previous week. We stopped off at a bar not far from my place and sat beside each other on a couch. Annoyingly she happened to know a couple of girls on the table sat next to us and so she spoke with them for the first five minutes… I called it out early on…
How am I supposed to kiss you now with your friends sat right next to us?!
You’ll just have to be discrete, won’t you!
I got the wine in and she took her jumper off to reveal her impressive boobage, I wanted to motor boat them. The boner was instant so I pulled her in for the kiss expecting her to pull away but she was all in with tongues.
What about your friends, what will they think?!
Ah, I hardly know them, it’s fine.
Well they’ll most likely only jealous anyway.
Not much longer after this I took her home and banged her. The sex was average despite her curves in all the right places – she didn’t like it when I was rough with her and she smelled a bit as she had been working all day prior to meeting me. Odds of seeing her again – 1/10.
 – 5 in total including the two night game lays
 – my only real goal in daygame is to get to 100 by the end of 2020.
 – Yes. I read a book, about Greek mythology, it was fascinating. Well, it was an audio book.