- Joined
- Nov 14, 2017
- Messages
- 315
This is a follow-up to OR: Too inhibited to give a sugar daddy a fake baby.
Final Effort
I am now gone from Central America, having ended up spending over eight months in a small community there.
My heart is just slightly broken because I did not even take a girl at all, let alone in such a manner as to make giving one of those dumbass sugar daddies a fake baby.
With that said, I can at least report that in the last week or so, I gave it a very spirited attempt which did result in some more true cold approaches.
Over those seven days, I cold approached five girls. (This could have been more, but itʼs not that cowardly, considering the low population.) By contrast, in the whole 7+ months before, I tragically had only cold approached one girl! This is an improvement of over one hundred and sixty times!
The first two days of that last week, I didnʼt approach even one girl, despite wandering the town from mid‑morning to twilight.
Ordinarily, a couple of days of that would have dissuaded me from potentially wasting even more precious time. I would have reminded myself that in Kampala, Uganda, (or even back home, for that matter,) I could have encountered vastly more girls in the same time period, making inhibition far less severe.
However, at this point, I was very motivated to take a chick before leaving, so I had already made a final decision in advance that I would try for the whole week, even if it meant blowing a week. I very much couldnʼt afford right now to just blow a week like that, but I knew how unhappy Iʼd be afterwards if I didnʼt try my very best with the time I had left.
I have to say that my motivation was significantly heightened by my decision to try making a cutie pregnant if she let me. I also have to say that, for as much as I want to share 50%/50% custody with a South Sudanese chick, I also now feel quite drawn to the idea of separately having some child out there with my genes but someone elseʼs investment. Now I want both!
The Approaches
I wonʼt go into too much detail on the approaches themselves, as the main problem is approach volume, and now I also badly need to re‑escape the West, so my main focus is on better preparing for Africa ASAP.
First approach of the week was on day three, a Sunday. It was my first time hitting on a chick in a typical small‑town store instead of the big‑box monstrosities Iʼm used to approaching in. In fact, I even went into the store due to having seen her go in.
This one was a black girl, with lots of pigment, not lots of makeup, likely none, and hair totally natural. Beautiful exotic African-like features. While I havenʼt been restricting myself to black girls as I had always done prior to this trip, I still really love this type, which helped overcome the inhibition.
After I opened, she looked at me a few moments without saying anything, and then returned to tending to a kid she was with. However, her failure to reply did not feel dismissive; instead, it seemed like she was shy and/or didnʼt know English all that well. An overly literal response to a question made me suspect the latter, though unusual in this town.
There are several things I could have done better, but putting my hand on that beautiful smooth dark chocolate shoulder was a good step after months of chickening out.
That carried a bit of momentum into the next day, which produced two approaches, breaking my daily record for that town. In fact, the first occurred after only 20 minutes or so of leaving the house.
The other, on an I think Mestiza chick, was only at the very end of the mission, as I was returning home after dark with my food. Approaching a chick after dark has been an inhibiton sticking point, so this was a brave step and one that was enabled no doubt by the backdrop of intense motivation.
Both those chicks were reasonably friendly, but didnʼt actually bite. I suspect it did not help that in both cases I just walked with the girl, making no attempt to actually stop her. In both cases the chick broke off when our paths diverged. That needs work, but again, work needs volume.
Two more days went by in which I again chickened out on every last opportunity. A typical day out gave me at least a dozen and possibly several dozen reasonable opportunities.
And then on the seventh day, the last day I had free for game, I managed to do another two approaches, both of which broke inhibition sticking points. Both of these chicks looked Mestiza, but a litte more towards Maya.
The first was on a bike, which Iʼd never done before. Mind you, she was riding slow alongside a walking friend, not flying by giving me only a fleeting chance to stop her, as was more typical. In Kampala I will get a bike, as I missed many opportunities due to that.
I had long been trying to get myself to stop chicks in otherwise too‑distant positions by yelling, “¡Amiga!” (Literally meaning “female friend,” but I often heard it used to hail a stranger.) Iʼve never had the balls to even yell to any stranger. In this case, I didnʼt have to really yell, as I had gotten myself just in front of her.
We chatted for a minute, and her and the friend stopped their conversation to allow this.
This was the only girl from the week that I tried to close. She declined to give me her number in order to meet up, noting instead with some confidence that weʼd see each other around. I said that I wouldnʼt be around much longer, but this did not change her position, so I just gave up.
The second approach of that last day, and my final approach in that country, was on a sexy chick in a red top and black shorts, who had been walking ahead of me along the main highway through the town. With me 10 to 20 feet behind her, she turned onto a side street, a laterite/gravel road.
Following a chick onto a smaller street has been a huge inhibition sticking point for me. It makes me kind of feel like a stalker. Even, as was the case here, in broad daylight. But I really didnʼt want to go without talking to yet another chick, so I followed her onto the small street.
While I was still behind her she turned down a longer street that led back onto the highway after a few blocks. With unusual boldness I turned down that street as well; it helped that it was more central than the others. I passed her shortly after, and then addressed her from just ahead, as I had also done with other chicks that week.
Instead of opening with something inert such as “¡Amiga!” in order to get her attention, I just opened directly with a compliment on her outfit, on the red and black going good together. I had to repeat myself, which reminds me that itʼs probably better to use some inert opening so as to have her attention, instead of having to repeat myself.
The girl was fairly nonchalant but not unfriendly. I had otherwise used English, but followed with, “Dime tu nombre.” This is not the usual way to ask for a name in Spanish, instead being quite intentionally phrased as an instruction rather than a question, as, “Tell me your name.” Same thing I have long done back home in English.
She replied with her name, which I repeated. She gave her hand when I gestured for it and introduced myself. I continued my typical initial routine in English, but didnʼt get to chat for much time at all, as shortly after, the girl switched sides with me and then departed into a house a few doors from where I had opened her.
I should try harder to get a girl to stop walking, so as to be able to close her before she heads off. In this case, I was insecure about talking with the girl in front of the house. Maybe she has a husband in there who will see us and get mad. I hate the way I assume the worst. I am still really battling with this socially imposed sense that hitting on a girl is wrong.
Hail Marys
I also took a quick shot at trying to resurrect three chicks I had met earlier in my stay. With these chicks, the Sexy Son Hypothesis had already determined that my son would not be sexy, so I wasnʼt expecting much, but whatever.
Two were cashiers who I had only managed to hit on a few dozen encounters too late. Live by innocence, die by innocence. Both had given me their numbers but neither had ever answered. Incidentally they both worked in the same supermarket.
The Maya one I hadnʼt seen in ages, so I just tried pinging her on WhatsApp. Unsurprisingly, she didnʼt bother to answer.
The Kreyol (mixed black) one still worked at the store, so I decided to just talk to her there. At the beginning of the week I let her know it was my last week, but didnʼt feel comfortable suggesting a meet‑up due to a nearby male employee.
On my final day of game I saw her again and asked her, “You free after work?”
I phrased it so as to require an affirmative answer on purpose. Normally Iʼd avoid doing that because itʼs too easy to get a “no,” but I didnʼt want to make refusal difficult with this one, because from prior experience, sheʼd probably just passively agree and then ghost me. I didnʼt have time for that, so I decided to just put it out there in such a way that if she said “yes,” she actually meant it.
Not surprisingly, she said “no,” but thatʼs what I get for cashing out by her dozens of times before getting the nerve to hit on her.
(By contrast, thereʼs a girl in another store who I had hit on almost right away, and that one had laughed and refused her number outright. Because that one knew I was out to fuck her, not be her innocent friend or orbiter or whatever. An average chump would probably interpret these outcomes backwards.)
My least hopeless existing lead was a Kreyol chick I had cold approached on the street months before. I had gotten the chick home but unfortunately, between inhibition and limited time on her part, I didnʼt escalate, after which she of course fizzled out.
I reached out after a couple months of radio silence, and she was responsive. I let her know that I would be leaving the country soon, and this I think may have helped. She did seem initially at least somewhat open to meeting up again before then.
Actually, the chick spotted me, wandering around looking for chicks, as she was biking to work on a subsequent day. She rolled up and rode beside me until our paths split. She was in good humour, told me she lives in the area we were in, and teased me about my being crazy to have walked so far. As we parted ways she volunteered that she would message me.
Unfortunately things went south when I tried to ensure logistics were good for sex. She worked one morning, hinting that a meeting after work might be most practical. But I had already been burned the first time by having her over for too little time, so I asked her how much time weʼd have. This seemed to get some subtle ASD, which I tried to work around.
She then asked where we would meet, and answering this was tricky, partly due to logistics, but also because of a strategic uncertainty. Our first date wasnʼt even a date. She had cancelled previously and then I took advantage of that to get her to come straight to my house. Worked like a charm and she even had texted something rather sexually suggestive.
So, on one hand, I felt that getting her to come straight over again was not only possible but may have even been necessary in order to not end up framed in the provider role. This because not pulling her straight home would have in a sense been backsliding from where we had already been.
On the other hand, I barely knew this chick, and this town was both religious and gossipy, so I was insecure about just asking her straight home, especially since I was afraid she may have already been in ASD mode after the meet duration question.
I actually had a rather airtight excuse I could have used to get her home without any worry of ASD at all. I had started to show her some creative projects of mine last time, but we didnʼt get time to delve into them properly. The problem with this excuse, however, is that itʼs too airtight! I was very cognizant of the risk that her sex drive, already denied last time, would be thoroughly unimpressed by this suggestion. The last thing I wanted was for her to be absolutely certain that this would be a platonic encounter.
I was quite torn, had little time to really think about it, and ended up giving her an answer that was too innocent to be guilty, but too guilty to be innocent. That triggered the “I will let you know” shit test.
Normally I handle this test using a tip from Seppuku: just cooly retract the present date suggestion in favour of an unspecified future meet. I have had that work very well, but in this case that tactic was not an option because I wouldnʼt even be in the country in a matter of days.
This is the closest thing I could figure out:
I was, of course, trying to convey outcome independence, and this was a huge gamble. I was hoping that it would turn her around, but it didnʼt. Should have fucked her when I had the chance.
Back In The West
[Continued in this journal post, which gives my early impressions of chicks back in the West through my lens revised by Central America, considers what I will do about chicks while I am here for six months, and considers various possibilities to still get the “freebie” offspring that I didnʼt get while in Central America.]
Final Effort
I am now gone from Central America, having ended up spending over eight months in a small community there.
My heart is just slightly broken because I did not even take a girl at all, let alone in such a manner as to make giving one of those dumbass sugar daddies a fake baby.
With that said, I can at least report that in the last week or so, I gave it a very spirited attempt which did result in some more true cold approaches.
Over those seven days, I cold approached five girls. (This could have been more, but itʼs not that cowardly, considering the low population.) By contrast, in the whole 7+ months before, I tragically had only cold approached one girl! This is an improvement of over one hundred and sixty times!
The first two days of that last week, I didnʼt approach even one girl, despite wandering the town from mid‑morning to twilight.
Ordinarily, a couple of days of that would have dissuaded me from potentially wasting even more precious time. I would have reminded myself that in Kampala, Uganda, (or even back home, for that matter,) I could have encountered vastly more girls in the same time period, making inhibition far less severe.
However, at this point, I was very motivated to take a chick before leaving, so I had already made a final decision in advance that I would try for the whole week, even if it meant blowing a week. I very much couldnʼt afford right now to just blow a week like that, but I knew how unhappy Iʼd be afterwards if I didnʼt try my very best with the time I had left.
I have to say that my motivation was significantly heightened by my decision to try making a cutie pregnant if she let me. I also have to say that, for as much as I want to share 50%/50% custody with a South Sudanese chick, I also now feel quite drawn to the idea of separately having some child out there with my genes but someone elseʼs investment. Now I want both!
The Approaches
I wonʼt go into too much detail on the approaches themselves, as the main problem is approach volume, and now I also badly need to re‑escape the West, so my main focus is on better preparing for Africa ASAP.
First approach of the week was on day three, a Sunday. It was my first time hitting on a chick in a typical small‑town store instead of the big‑box monstrosities Iʼm used to approaching in. In fact, I even went into the store due to having seen her go in.
This one was a black girl, with lots of pigment, not lots of makeup, likely none, and hair totally natural. Beautiful exotic African-like features. While I havenʼt been restricting myself to black girls as I had always done prior to this trip, I still really love this type, which helped overcome the inhibition.
After I opened, she looked at me a few moments without saying anything, and then returned to tending to a kid she was with. However, her failure to reply did not feel dismissive; instead, it seemed like she was shy and/or didnʼt know English all that well. An overly literal response to a question made me suspect the latter, though unusual in this town.
There are several things I could have done better, but putting my hand on that beautiful smooth dark chocolate shoulder was a good step after months of chickening out.
That carried a bit of momentum into the next day, which produced two approaches, breaking my daily record for that town. In fact, the first occurred after only 20 minutes or so of leaving the house.
The other, on an I think Mestiza chick, was only at the very end of the mission, as I was returning home after dark with my food. Approaching a chick after dark has been an inhibiton sticking point, so this was a brave step and one that was enabled no doubt by the backdrop of intense motivation.
Both those chicks were reasonably friendly, but didnʼt actually bite. I suspect it did not help that in both cases I just walked with the girl, making no attempt to actually stop her. In both cases the chick broke off when our paths diverged. That needs work, but again, work needs volume.
Two more days went by in which I again chickened out on every last opportunity. A typical day out gave me at least a dozen and possibly several dozen reasonable opportunities.
And then on the seventh day, the last day I had free for game, I managed to do another two approaches, both of which broke inhibition sticking points. Both of these chicks looked Mestiza, but a litte more towards Maya.
The first was on a bike, which Iʼd never done before. Mind you, she was riding slow alongside a walking friend, not flying by giving me only a fleeting chance to stop her, as was more typical. In Kampala I will get a bike, as I missed many opportunities due to that.
I had long been trying to get myself to stop chicks in otherwise too‑distant positions by yelling, “¡Amiga!” (Literally meaning “female friend,” but I often heard it used to hail a stranger.) Iʼve never had the balls to even yell to any stranger. In this case, I didnʼt have to really yell, as I had gotten myself just in front of her.
We chatted for a minute, and her and the friend stopped their conversation to allow this.
This was the only girl from the week that I tried to close. She declined to give me her number in order to meet up, noting instead with some confidence that weʼd see each other around. I said that I wouldnʼt be around much longer, but this did not change her position, so I just gave up.
The second approach of that last day, and my final approach in that country, was on a sexy chick in a red top and black shorts, who had been walking ahead of me along the main highway through the town. With me 10 to 20 feet behind her, she turned onto a side street, a laterite/gravel road.
Following a chick onto a smaller street has been a huge inhibition sticking point for me. It makes me kind of feel like a stalker. Even, as was the case here, in broad daylight. But I really didnʼt want to go without talking to yet another chick, so I followed her onto the small street.
While I was still behind her she turned down a longer street that led back onto the highway after a few blocks. With unusual boldness I turned down that street as well; it helped that it was more central than the others. I passed her shortly after, and then addressed her from just ahead, as I had also done with other chicks that week.
Instead of opening with something inert such as “¡Amiga!” in order to get her attention, I just opened directly with a compliment on her outfit, on the red and black going good together. I had to repeat myself, which reminds me that itʼs probably better to use some inert opening so as to have her attention, instead of having to repeat myself.
The girl was fairly nonchalant but not unfriendly. I had otherwise used English, but followed with, “Dime tu nombre.” This is not the usual way to ask for a name in Spanish, instead being quite intentionally phrased as an instruction rather than a question, as, “Tell me your name.” Same thing I have long done back home in English.
She replied with her name, which I repeated. She gave her hand when I gestured for it and introduced myself. I continued my typical initial routine in English, but didnʼt get to chat for much time at all, as shortly after, the girl switched sides with me and then departed into a house a few doors from where I had opened her.
I should try harder to get a girl to stop walking, so as to be able to close her before she heads off. In this case, I was insecure about talking with the girl in front of the house. Maybe she has a husband in there who will see us and get mad. I hate the way I assume the worst. I am still really battling with this socially imposed sense that hitting on a girl is wrong.
Hail Marys
I also took a quick shot at trying to resurrect three chicks I had met earlier in my stay. With these chicks, the Sexy Son Hypothesis had already determined that my son would not be sexy, so I wasnʼt expecting much, but whatever.
Two were cashiers who I had only managed to hit on a few dozen encounters too late. Live by innocence, die by innocence. Both had given me their numbers but neither had ever answered. Incidentally they both worked in the same supermarket.
The Maya one I hadnʼt seen in ages, so I just tried pinging her on WhatsApp. Unsurprisingly, she didnʼt bother to answer.
The Kreyol (mixed black) one still worked at the store, so I decided to just talk to her there. At the beginning of the week I let her know it was my last week, but didnʼt feel comfortable suggesting a meet‑up due to a nearby male employee.
On my final day of game I saw her again and asked her, “You free after work?”
I phrased it so as to require an affirmative answer on purpose. Normally Iʼd avoid doing that because itʼs too easy to get a “no,” but I didnʼt want to make refusal difficult with this one, because from prior experience, sheʼd probably just passively agree and then ghost me. I didnʼt have time for that, so I decided to just put it out there in such a way that if she said “yes,” she actually meant it.
Not surprisingly, she said “no,” but thatʼs what I get for cashing out by her dozens of times before getting the nerve to hit on her.
(By contrast, thereʼs a girl in another store who I had hit on almost right away, and that one had laughed and refused her number outright. Because that one knew I was out to fuck her, not be her innocent friend or orbiter or whatever. An average chump would probably interpret these outcomes backwards.)
My least hopeless existing lead was a Kreyol chick I had cold approached on the street months before. I had gotten the chick home but unfortunately, between inhibition and limited time on her part, I didnʼt escalate, after which she of course fizzled out.
I reached out after a couple months of radio silence, and she was responsive. I let her know that I would be leaving the country soon, and this I think may have helped. She did seem initially at least somewhat open to meeting up again before then.
Actually, the chick spotted me, wandering around looking for chicks, as she was biking to work on a subsequent day. She rolled up and rode beside me until our paths split. She was in good humour, told me she lives in the area we were in, and teased me about my being crazy to have walked so far. As we parted ways she volunteered that she would message me.
Unfortunately things went south when I tried to ensure logistics were good for sex. She worked one morning, hinting that a meeting after work might be most practical. But I had already been burned the first time by having her over for too little time, so I asked her how much time weʼd have. This seemed to get some subtle ASD, which I tried to work around.
She then asked where we would meet, and answering this was tricky, partly due to logistics, but also because of a strategic uncertainty. Our first date wasnʼt even a date. She had cancelled previously and then I took advantage of that to get her to come straight to my house. Worked like a charm and she even had texted something rather sexually suggestive.
So, on one hand, I felt that getting her to come straight over again was not only possible but may have even been necessary in order to not end up framed in the provider role. This because not pulling her straight home would have in a sense been backsliding from where we had already been.
On the other hand, I barely knew this chick, and this town was both religious and gossipy, so I was insecure about just asking her straight home, especially since I was afraid she may have already been in ASD mode after the meet duration question.
I actually had a rather airtight excuse I could have used to get her home without any worry of ASD at all. I had started to show her some creative projects of mine last time, but we didnʼt get time to delve into them properly. The problem with this excuse, however, is that itʼs too airtight! I was very cognizant of the risk that her sex drive, already denied last time, would be thoroughly unimpressed by this suggestion. The last thing I wanted was for her to be absolutely certain that this would be a platonic encounter.
I was quite torn, had little time to really think about it, and ended up giving her an answer that was too innocent to be guilty, but too guilty to be innocent. That triggered the “I will let you know” shit test.
Normally I handle this test using a tip from Seppuku: just cooly retract the present date suggestion in favour of an unspecified future meet. I have had that work very well, but in this case that tactic was not an option because I wouldnʼt even be in the country in a matter of days.
This is the closest thing I could figure out:
I was, of course, trying to convey outcome independence, and this was a huge gamble. I was hoping that it would turn her around, but it didnʼt. Should have fucked her when I had the chance.
Back In The West
[Continued in this journal post, which gives my early impressions of chicks back in the West through my lens revised by Central America, considers what I will do about chicks while I am here for six months, and considers various possibilities to still get the “freebie” offspring that I didnʼt get while in Central America.]
