How Not to Relationship

This wasn’t the actual bank machine.

Well this corona virus is shit craic. Just when I was getting the taste back for daygame, the whole year gets cancelled. My only goal for 2020 was to reach 100 daygame notches, this will now take a minor miracle as I still have 16 to go. But I’m not THAT arsed about it, there are more important things in life than chasing tail, like staying alive. I’d just quite like things to return to normal.

Until then, here is a story from my shambolic dating life that I have told to a few of my mates down the pub. They all found it hilarious, so I thought I’d write it up before I forget the finer details. TL:DR – this is how NOT to go about wifing up a hot young Russian girl…

I’ve written about end game in the past – finding a high-quality girl and having a go at a relationship. Before game I was great at relationships, I had four long term girlfriends, one after the other spanning a period of 13 years, I was obliviously happy with my lot. But since I learned that it was possible to have loads of girls without the commitment, that all went out the window and I became hooked on new pussy and the ego validating +1 tweets and lay reports that followed.

It was just over a year ago when I started to become jaded, I’d reached the promised land of 1 bang for every 30 opens (over a calendar year), and guess what – there was no medal, VIP pass or victory parade at the end. It was business as usual, if I wanted to get laid again, I had to get back out there and push the boulder back up the hill.

I’ve met some very nice girls down the years, so I created a shortlist of 5 girls that I thought had potential for something longer term. Jane was near the top of said list. I met her in June of 2018 and to this day she is one of the only girls I don’t get bored of hanging out with – she’s very good looking, intelligent, looks after herself well and has a wicked sense of humour. I’ve been back to Saint Petersburg several times since our first meeting and have always made time for her.

We met up in SPB towards the end of last years daygame season and we got to role playing whilst relaxing on the sofa bed in my shitty little Airbnb apartment. I told her how I’d whisk her away to any romantic destination of her choosing, I’d make her breakfast in bed every day, we’d hold hands, go on romantic walks, pose for cheesy selfies and make everyone else around us sick with our public displays of affection. She played along ‘will you hold every door open for me? And bring me flowers every day?’‘Of course, do you think I’m some sort of barbarian?!’. We kissed and cuddled before she turned to me… ‘Roy, I know you’re joking, but it would actually be nice to go on a vacation with you’.

I laughed at her and told her that I was no sugar daddy or Instagram photographer. However, a few days after I left SPB, I started to develop strange feelings, like I actually missed her. We were texting every day and before I knew it, I’d booked us a swanky apartment and flights to Venice for her upcoming 20th birthday. We would spend 5 nights in the floating city – the most time I’d spend with any girl in over 5 years – this would be the litmus test.

It went swimmingly for the first 4 nights, pretty much all as imagined above – romantic walks, lots of sex, lots of laughter, and lots of me pretending to be a gentleman before pushing her into an oncoming passer-by. Then on the last night it all fell apart, and quite spectacularly so…

Early in the afternoon we jumped on a boat to one of the surrounding islands, Murano I think it was called. We wandered the island aimlessly, enjoying the rare Autumn sunshine, stopping off in restaurants every couple of hours for coffee, wine and chichetti (Italian tapas). As it got towards sunset, we waited at the pier for the last boat back to the main island, it took forever so we ended up getting a bit tipsy at a little pop up mulled wine stall. It was starting to get very cold now and for some reason the internet on my phone had stopped working (I had previously been using google maps for navigation), and Jane didn’t have internet on her phone either. When the next boat arrived at the pier I announced, ‘come on, lets jump on that one, I know the way!’ I didn’t.

As we circumnavigated the main Island, I pretended that I knew what the main landmarks were and made stories up as we went. I wasn’t recognising anything and eventually I decided that we should just get off at the next stop and figure out our way home from dry land. We alighted in what looked like a deserted college campus.

‘Roy, where are we?’ Asked Jane as we walked down a long footpath with no-one in sight.

‘Ah, this is the famous University campuso, I’m pretty sure this is where Leonardo Di Caprio painted the Mona Lisa’ said me.

Eventually we stumbled upon civilization in the form of people sitting outside what looked like a beer garden, as we got closer I heard a guitar, and when we got even closer I saw a bar attached to the garden. I’d found a cool little bar with live music, jackpot! We went inside, ordered a couple of drinks and got chatting to the locals, all students. I was very impressed with how cheap the drinks were compared to the centre of Venice. We congratulated each other on surviving the trip without incident and discussed where we would travel to next. I was chuffed, I had proved to myself that I wasn’t broken, I could hang out with a girl I had banged many times and not be bored of her company. Before we knew it, it was last orders at the bar and I still had no idea which way our apartment was. I spoke to a friendly chap at the bar, instead of asking him how I would get home, I asked him which cool non-touristy bars were still open. He kindly obliged and I returned to Jane full of vim (wine) and vigour. ‘Come on, let’s go this way!!’.

My new friend at the bars recommendation was sound, he’d given me directions to a square of bars that were still quite busy. Jane and I were stood outside talking to a group of locals as I puffed away on my vape. She was in a jovial mood now and was becoming more and more animated as she spoke, then as she whirled around towards me her elbow hit my hand and my vape dropped to the floor before smashing into tiny little pieces. The smile disappeared from my face instantly, I looked at the ground, looked up at her, then to the group of Italians, then back to Jane who was stood there looking back at me innocently… the red mist descended.


‘Wow, wow, it was an accident, I’m sorry!’ Said jane as she stroked my arm and dragged me away from the others.


‘Look, there’s a cigarette machine in the wall over there, let’s get you some’ she reasoned.

‘OK, OK, OK!’.

I walked over to the machine in the wall, pressed Marlboro gold and went to tap my card to pay, but nothing happened.

‘It’s not fucking working, these stupid fucking wops, why don’t their machines take card?!’

One of the guys in the group we had just been talking to suddenly piped up ‘hey man, those machines are cash only, there’s an ATM not far away if you need cash’.

‘Uuuhm, ok. Ok, thanks bud’ said me, I was starting to calm down.

‘Roy, I’ll go get some cash out and buy you some cigarettes, this is all my fault’ Said Jane.

‘No don’t worry about it, I’ll go’

Then the local dude piped up again ‘I can show you guys where it is’.

‘Roy, you go inside and get us a drink, I’ll go get you some cigarettes’ Said Jane.

‘OK, OK, thanks’

‘I’ll be back in 5 minutes’ said Jane before giving me a kiss on the lips and departing with the local dude.

I went into the bar, ordered us some drinks and started to calm down. 5 minutes passed, then 10, then 15, and then 20 minutes. It began to dawn on me that somehow, I’d managed to let my girl walk off in the middle of the night with a random guy that I didn’t know, and I had no way of contacting her. Earlier that day Jane put me on the phone to her mother (who is only a few years older than me), she told me that she was glad Jane was having fun and then gave me specific orders to make sure that her daughter was safe. I clearly wasn’t doing a very good job of that, so I stormed out of the bar (after finishing both drinks, obviously) and ran up and down the street looking for her. I started asking strangers ‘have you seen a blonde girl, blue eyes, long red coat?!’. No one had seen her. FUCK.

I sat down on a bench and thought about what to do next. Then I heard her unmistakable laugh come from across the square. I got up and walked towards it and sure enough there she was with the local dude laughing and joking.


‘Wow, relax dude’ Said the local.

‘FUCK OFF, YOU CAN GO NOW MATE, JUST FUCK OFF’ Said me. He scarpered off.

‘Here, I got you cigarettes’ Said Jane, remaining calm and smiling throughout.

‘What took you so long?’

‘It was further than I thought’

‘Jesus, I thought you had been kidnapped, how would I explain that to your mother?!’

‘Don’t worry, I’m fine’

‘Ok, come on, let’s go home’

As we walked, I apologised for losing my temper, Jane said not to worry, but I could tell she wasn’t happy with me. As soon as we got into the apartment, she said she was tired, got undressed and jumped straight into bed and switched the lights off.

I went out the front of the apartment to the courtyard for a cigarette. It was now around 2am as I stood there puffing away on the Marlboro golds that almost got Jane kidnapped. I was rather upset with myself ‘well, there you have it, you really are broken, how have you fucked this up so royally?’ I asked myself.

Then as I was berating myself, Jane startled me by hugging me from behind. I almost jumped out of my skin and Jane found this very funny and packed up with laughter… ‘Ooooh big strong man is afraid of the dark!’. I laughed along with her as Jane circled around to face me. She was wearing her long red jacket and high heels, then she opened the jacket to reveal that she was wearing nothing underneath.

‘It’s our last night, let’s not let it end on a sour note’ said Jane.


I quickly put out my smoke, grabbed her by the hand and dragged her towards the apartment. When we got to the front door it was shut, it was one of those doors that locks upon closing.

‘Jane, please tell me you brought your keys out with you, because mine are inside’

‘No, I thought you had yours.’

‘No, I just came out for a quick smoke, that’s why I wedged the door open’

‘Oh nooooo’

‘You’re kidding me, right?’

‘No, I really don’t have my keys’


I was very tempted to lose my temper again, but somehow, I remained ice cool from this point onwards and went into survival mode.

‘OK, don’t worry, I’ll figure this out’. Said me. I had no idea what to do.

I tried forcefully opening the door, no luck. I tried to open the windows, no luck. I looked under all the plant pots and door mats in case there was a spare key, no luck. There were three other apartments that shared our courtyard. I rang all three of their doorbells and none of them answered, bastards.

I went to pull my phone out of my pocket to look-up hotels in the area that were still open, then I realised I’d left my phone and my wallet safely beside my keys, inside the apartment. FUCK!

‘Jane, did you bring your purse with you?’

‘No. I have nothing in my pockets’

The temperature was dropping, and I could see Jane was starting to shiver. I was only in a t-shirt and jeans and was starting to feel the chill too. ‘Think Roy, THINK!’ I told myself.

I rummaged through my pockets again and underneath my cigarettes I felt a credit card shaped object, I pulled it out and was relieved to see that it was my American Express card – I had a lifeline.

‘OK, we can’t stay out here all night. We’ll sleep at a hotel and come back here to check out at 12 and make our way to the airport’ said me.

It was now pushing 3am as we set off down the high street, I was buzzing with adrenaline and was quite pleased with my plan. Jane was still visibly shivering and had her arms tightly wrapped around the lapels of her jacket so as not to flash any passers-by.

The first hotel was only a hundred metres down the street. The entrance was closed, but there was a buzzer to call reception. I spoke to the porter over the intercom and his English wasn’t great, but neither was my Italian…

‘Bonjourno, you have one roomo for tonight?’ Said me.


‘Do you speak English?’

‘Si, si, uno momento’

A short, rotund old man with wiry glasses halfway down his nose opened the main entrance door. I explained to him that I needed a room for the night and that I had been locked out of my apartment, but I don’t think he understood any of it. He looked Jane up and down as I rambled on before announcing…

‘Tonight we are full, no rooms’ in perfect English. Cunt.

He’d clearly surmised that I’d picked up a prostitute and wanted to use his hotel to wet my willy. He was half right. I tried three more hotels and got almost exactly the same response word for word. The wee fat man must have given the others advance notice.

It was now almost 4am and everything in Venice was closed. My new plan was to set up camp outside the coffee shop we went into every morning beside our apartment and wait for it to open. We could sit there and drink coffee in the warmth whilst we waited for the Airbnb host to turn up and check us out. I checked the opening times as we approached the window of the coffee shop; it wouldn’t open until 06:30, that left two and half hours to kill. We went for another walk and I spotted one of those bank machines that was inside a small building… ‘Let’s go in here!’, I dragged Jane in with me and plonked myself on the floor and propped my back up against the wall…

’You can’t be serious, are we really going to sleep here?’ asked Jane.

‘Yes, we are sleeping in a bank machine.’ Said me.

Jane lay on top of me with her back to the door so as not to expose any of her private bits and within minutes we were both fast asleep. Then suddenly I woke up and my whole body was shaking. I rubbed my eyes to try and focus. There was a police officer hunched over me shaking my shoulders and shouting things at me in Italian whilst pointing to the door. Jane was still fast asleep.

‘Si, si, si officer’ said me. I guessed that he was telling me that we couldn’t sleep in the bank machine, which was only fair enough. I looked at my watch and it was now just after 5am. I woke Jane and we slowly made our way back towards the coffee shop and sat on a bench opposite it. Just before 6am the barista arrived to open, she recognised us on the bench and asked if we were ok, I explained the situation and she told us to come in right away. People are nice.

We were very grateful for the hot coffee but after a couple of hours sitting in the corner, we were starting to get funny looks from the staff. We took this as our cue to leave. We went back to the apartment on the off chance that the host arrived early, unfortunately he hadn’t.

It was now around 9am and the streets were getting busier and busier and Jane was getting more and more self-conscious about wearing no clothes and looking like a whore. It was time to utilise my daygame skills for an entirely different purpose. I started stopping random people and asking if I could use their phones quickly to make one phone call. The first few people didn’t even stop. I thought about explaining to Jane that I was very experienced in the art of getting blown out by total strangers, but I decided against it.

Finally, a young Swedish fella who spoke perfect English was more than happy to hand over this phone. I went to dial the number of the Airbnb host, then I remembered that it was saved in my phone, which I didn’t have. FUCK. I gave the kind Swedish chap back his phone and we went for another coffee so I could devise another plan.

It was now around 10am and we were due to check out at midday. We walked back to the apartment on the off chance that the host had come early. He hadn’t. But I did notice that the name of the company that rented the property was written on a sign on the main gate. Bingo.

I dragged us back to the main street and started opening again. This time the first person stopped, she was a local Italian girl and she was actually pretty hot. I fought the urge to do my normal daygame stack and explained the situation. She gladly handed over phone, this time I went straight onto google, searched for the property and up popped a website with the contact number of the host. I called him and he was there within 10 minutes. The saga had ended.

Jane and I showered, got packed and made our way to the airport whilst hardly saying a word to each other for 3 or 4 hours. Once we got through airport security I dragged us to the bar for one last drink.

‘Well, Roy, one thing is for sure – I will NEVER forget this trip’ said Jane, breaking the silence.

‘Not exactly a rom-com ending though, eh’

‘No, it wasn’t. I was beginning to fall in love with you, I could see a future with you. But I think that’s gone now’ Said Jane, not mincing her words in true Russian style.

‘Fair enough’ Said me, I didn’t have a leg to stand on.

We went our separate ways at the airport without mentioning meeting up again, we both knew it was over.

So, what did I learn from this experience? Basically, I just need to stop being a pisshead, but if I did that, the stories would be nowhere near as good.