- Joined
- Dec 7, 2019
- Messages
- 242
There are a series of moments that rise to the forefront of my mind when remembering my high school baseball career.
One game, I had a beautiful performance on the mound. Left-handed batters couldn’t touch my two-seam fastball, and right-handed batters whiffed upon my curveball. My circle changeup was at its best.
After the game, my coach, a man who briefly yet very poorly pitched in the majors, brought me aside in a secluded corner of the dugout. He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders. Looked me in the eyes, perhaps as intensely as he could for being halfway drunk. Then, he tightened his grip and unraveled a bearish scream into my face as a reward for a job well done, tobacco spittle unfurling out of his mouth.
My next start was on a wonderful day. I remember it clearly. Perfect springtime temperature and a subtle breeze that ceded every time that I began my delivery. The world seemed yearning to will me to brilliance.
However, I was not the same. Something had changed, even though I had not.
Strikes became marvel. Curveballs spun out of my hand but landed in places where even Willie Mays could not reach. The beloved circle changeup was no more – it had no life. My early exit was inevitable, and I walked off the mound feeling the worst concoction of bewilderment and anger.
After the game, my coach, a man who briefly yet very poorly pitched in the majors, brought me aside in a secluded corner of the dugout. He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders. Looked me in the eyes, perhaps as intensely as he could for being halfway drunk. Then, he tightened his grip upon me and unraveled a bearish scream into my face as a punishment for a job poorly done, tobacco spittle unfurling out of his mouth.
“Lofty,” he said. “There are ten days in this world.”
“Two, you have everything.”
His gravelly voice softened.
“Two, you have nothing.”
Softened further.
“And the other six… you have to battle.”
Gently tapping both my shoulders twice with his worn hands, he tenderly nodded, reached up to scratch his scraggly beard, gave me a teary-eyed glance encompassing all of the compassion in the world, methodically turned away, reached into the back pocket of his baseball pants, located his tin of Skoal, opened it, reached for a big dip, intimately dropped it in his mouth, and wandered off into the distance.
Wednesday, September 2
I wake up with the forces of life compelling me into optimism.
Progress was made. The previous night had witnessed my best performance of game, and I had a beautiful girl stammering as she tried to remember her phone number.
It appeared to be a sensational breakthrough for me. Finally, it appeared that momentum was on my side. Something good was about to happen, and I had made it happen with the help of some very skilled seducers.
I decide that I will text HBRunner in the afternoon. She would be leaving for her trip to the lake soon but would remain in town for the night. To me, it seemed like there was a strong possibility that we would be spending it together.
First, though, comes the uninspiring activities of the day: COVID testing, class, laundry.
HBRunner did not take up much of my thought, but I greatly anticipated the moment that she would. So pretty, and so receptive towards me. It was my best approach, after all. After a quick review of GC articles on scheduling dates, I send the text (over Google Voice now, of course):
Time ticks and fades away into eternity. The afternoon becomes the early evening. Is it really possible…?
Maybe it’s a “battle” day. Maybe it’s a “nothing” day.
But I have to put on my armor regardless - HBRunner is very, very unfortunately just another dead lead. If I want plans for tonight, then I have to do more approaching. So, I do. I walk to a series of parks.
It’s really hot and humid outside, though. Even less people are out than usual. The volume is pathetic, really. Disappointed, I go to the grocery store.
Prospects aren’t great there, either. After about ten minutes of pretending to peruse the bread and yogurts, a pretty Indian girl walks by and smiles. Okay, here we go!
She passes me and turns into another aisle. I take a deep breath, remember my focuses from yesterday, and relaxingly walk towards the opposite end of her aisle. Raising my line of sight, I make my entrance.
But she’s not there.
Next aisle? Not there.
I check the entire store, but the girl is nowhere to be found. Somehow in a below-average sized grocery store, I lost her.
Frustrated, I decide to open the next girl that I see. Which happens to be the only girl in the store.
She’s average-looking. Probably in her early thirties. Checking out the teas. I peripherally enter and open:
Ha, lame. She laughs anyway as I make my leave. Maybe her reaction means that I'm a bit closer to a fuckboy vibe...
The foot traffic on the streets is also poor and likewise with the shops that are still open. I even check the pharmacy, but no one is inside. With Chase's very timely article on scouting as inspiration, I have to find venues with more volume. Maybe I have the solution...
In all, the day became quite the disappointment. Oh well – I’m still alive and breathing, and as long as that’s the case, the opportunity for tomorrow to be better remains intact.
Thursday, September 3
The circumstances today were not the best for approaching. I did not want to have a day pass without some form of practice, though, so I conjure up an idea.
I’ll practice texting game, which it appears that I certainly need to improve.
To do so, I consider girls of the past.
Her – no, doesn’t make sense. Her – maybe, eh, not sensible.
Ah.
Last year - before I learned about game - there was this girl from my extended social circle that I pulled to my apartment following the birthday party of a shared friend. Attractive girl with an athletic and great body. Towards the promiscuous side. A bad bitch, one might say.
It would be a definite FU if I were to write a FR for it now. Looking back, I understand that my first issue was that I did not pull soon enough. It seemed like she had initial attraction and was DTF from early on in the interaction. Yet, I spent hours in rapport-building conversation. We made it to my place at 3:00 AM, and I then learned she had breakfast with a friend at 7:30. Ouch.
I took her to my couch, told her the story about when I lived on an island and held a seashell from there up to her ear that I conveniently had propped on my coffee table. She then gave me a seductive look and grabbed my face with both hands. We began to passionately kiss.
My second mistake is that while she was likely looking for me to quickly escalate, I did not. Not understanding escalation and greatly enjoying her bad bitch tongue, the make-out session continued for about fifteen minutes. She then noticed the clock change to 3:30, which alarmed her. Of course, she told me that she had to leave. I persisted with kissing for a few more minutes before she gently pulled away, walked to my door, and promised that she would be back very soon. I persisted more by making out with her all the way back to her car, but she eventually held her hand softly to my chest, gave me another promise that she would definitely be back again, hopped in the car, and left.
Obviously, she flaked every time and never came back.
Because there aren't many social circle risks with her, I reason that a hail-mary text wouldn’t be the worst idea. I give it a try with absolutely zero expectations.
Just another reminder of what happens with poor escalation. Probably wasn't even her boyfriend, but it still went better than expected.
I maybe have another old flame that would be interesting to rekindle, but it’s a bit of a sore spot for me. Another FU - this time with a stunning cheerleader. I don’t think about it much anymore, but I'm haunted if it comes to mind.
Could be fun to try tomorrow, however.
Speaking of tomorrow. I am well aware that I need more volume. New venues must be scouted.
As such, I will be taking a bus to the mall in the afternoon. I really wanted to stay within walking distance, but I can be more experimental with my settings now that my primary goal is to grab her number and schedule a date.
So that’s the plan that I’ve decided for Friday.
I’m going to approach beautiful women, sexually intrigue them, get their phone numbers as they giggle, schedule a same-day date, fantastically seduce her, and release all of my emotions in a romantic furor as she realizes that there is no other man who she would rather be laying beneath.
My first two weeks in the field have been eventful, but I'm feeling just a little more skilled everyday.
One game, I had a beautiful performance on the mound. Left-handed batters couldn’t touch my two-seam fastball, and right-handed batters whiffed upon my curveball. My circle changeup was at its best.
After the game, my coach, a man who briefly yet very poorly pitched in the majors, brought me aside in a secluded corner of the dugout. He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders. Looked me in the eyes, perhaps as intensely as he could for being halfway drunk. Then, he tightened his grip and unraveled a bearish scream into my face as a reward for a job well done, tobacco spittle unfurling out of his mouth.
My next start was on a wonderful day. I remember it clearly. Perfect springtime temperature and a subtle breeze that ceded every time that I began my delivery. The world seemed yearning to will me to brilliance.
However, I was not the same. Something had changed, even though I had not.
Strikes became marvel. Curveballs spun out of my hand but landed in places where even Willie Mays could not reach. The beloved circle changeup was no more – it had no life. My early exit was inevitable, and I walked off the mound feeling the worst concoction of bewilderment and anger.
After the game, my coach, a man who briefly yet very poorly pitched in the majors, brought me aside in a secluded corner of the dugout. He placed his hands firmly on my shoulders. Looked me in the eyes, perhaps as intensely as he could for being halfway drunk. Then, he tightened his grip upon me and unraveled a bearish scream into my face as a punishment for a job poorly done, tobacco spittle unfurling out of his mouth.
“Lofty,” he said. “There are ten days in this world.”
“Two, you have everything.”
His gravelly voice softened.
“Two, you have nothing.”
Softened further.
“And the other six… you have to battle.”
Gently tapping both my shoulders twice with his worn hands, he tenderly nodded, reached up to scratch his scraggly beard, gave me a teary-eyed glance encompassing all of the compassion in the world, methodically turned away, reached into the back pocket of his baseball pants, located his tin of Skoal, opened it, reached for a big dip, intimately dropped it in his mouth, and wandered off into the distance.
Wednesday, September 2
I wake up with the forces of life compelling me into optimism.
Progress was made. The previous night had witnessed my best performance of game, and I had a beautiful girl stammering as she tried to remember her phone number.
It appeared to be a sensational breakthrough for me. Finally, it appeared that momentum was on my side. Something good was about to happen, and I had made it happen with the help of some very skilled seducers.
I decide that I will text HBRunner in the afternoon. She would be leaving for her trip to the lake soon but would remain in town for the night. To me, it seemed like there was a strong possibility that we would be spending it together.
First, though, comes the uninspiring activities of the day: COVID testing, class, laundry.
HBRunner did not take up much of my thought, but I greatly anticipated the moment that she would. So pretty, and so receptive towards me. It was my best approach, after all. After a quick review of GC articles on scheduling dates, I send the text (over Google Voice now, of course):
Hey HBRunner! Hope you weren’t too bored by those online lectures. I’ve been trying to deal with a bunch of online homework myself... so I was feeling your pain! What’s your schedule looking like for tonight - perhaps another relaxing walk with Bullet?
Maybe it’s a “battle” day. Maybe it’s a “nothing” day.
But I have to put on my armor regardless - HBRunner is very, very unfortunately just another dead lead. If I want plans for tonight, then I have to do more approaching. So, I do. I walk to a series of parks.
It’s really hot and humid outside, though. Even less people are out than usual. The volume is pathetic, really. Disappointed, I go to the grocery store.
Prospects aren’t great there, either. After about ten minutes of pretending to peruse the bread and yogurts, a pretty Indian girl walks by and smiles. Okay, here we go!
She passes me and turns into another aisle. I take a deep breath, remember my focuses from yesterday, and relaxingly walk towards the opposite end of her aisle. Raising my line of sight, I make my entrance.
But she’s not there.
Next aisle? Not there.
I check the entire store, but the girl is nowhere to be found. Somehow in a below-average sized grocery store, I lost her.
Frustrated, I decide to open the next girl that I see. Which happens to be the only girl in the store.
She’s average-looking. Probably in her early thirties. Checking out the teas. I peripherally enter and open:
Me: You know, what’s the difference between green tea… and herbal green tea? It’s almost like they’re trying to trick us.
HB: How old are you?
Me: Haha, is that the first question that you always ask people you just meet?
HB: No, only the college boys who try to hit on me. I’m sure that you can find a pretty girl your own age.
Me: Girls my age are so… immature. All they think about is what parties to go to… which pictures to post on Instagram… and which pair of sweatpants to wear to their 8:00 am class. Sometimes, I really would like to have an intellectual conversation with someone who is just… a little more sophisticated than the rest. When I look in your eyes… I can tell that you’re the type of women who is very intelligent.
HB: Aw, thank you! But I’m married. *shows me her ring*
Me (realizing that it’s best to eject): Ah. Well, enjoy the wonderful tea selection. Please do choose carefully. I hear that there is a feud brewing between husbands who prefer Lipton and wives who prefer Twinings.
HB: How old are you?
Me: Haha, is that the first question that you always ask people you just meet?
HB: No, only the college boys who try to hit on me. I’m sure that you can find a pretty girl your own age.
Me: Girls my age are so… immature. All they think about is what parties to go to… which pictures to post on Instagram… and which pair of sweatpants to wear to their 8:00 am class. Sometimes, I really would like to have an intellectual conversation with someone who is just… a little more sophisticated than the rest. When I look in your eyes… I can tell that you’re the type of women who is very intelligent.
HB: Aw, thank you! But I’m married. *shows me her ring*
Me (realizing that it’s best to eject): Ah. Well, enjoy the wonderful tea selection. Please do choose carefully. I hear that there is a feud brewing between husbands who prefer Lipton and wives who prefer Twinings.
The foot traffic on the streets is also poor and likewise with the shops that are still open. I even check the pharmacy, but no one is inside. With Chase's very timely article on scouting as inspiration, I have to find venues with more volume. Maybe I have the solution...
In all, the day became quite the disappointment. Oh well – I’m still alive and breathing, and as long as that’s the case, the opportunity for tomorrow to be better remains intact.
Thursday, September 3
The circumstances today were not the best for approaching. I did not want to have a day pass without some form of practice, though, so I conjure up an idea.
I’ll practice texting game, which it appears that I certainly need to improve.
To do so, I consider girls of the past.
Her – no, doesn’t make sense. Her – maybe, eh, not sensible.
Ah.
Last year - before I learned about game - there was this girl from my extended social circle that I pulled to my apartment following the birthday party of a shared friend. Attractive girl with an athletic and great body. Towards the promiscuous side. A bad bitch, one might say.
It would be a definite FU if I were to write a FR for it now. Looking back, I understand that my first issue was that I did not pull soon enough. It seemed like she had initial attraction and was DTF from early on in the interaction. Yet, I spent hours in rapport-building conversation. We made it to my place at 3:00 AM, and I then learned she had breakfast with a friend at 7:30. Ouch.
I took her to my couch, told her the story about when I lived on an island and held a seashell from there up to her ear that I conveniently had propped on my coffee table. She then gave me a seductive look and grabbed my face with both hands. We began to passionately kiss.
My second mistake is that while she was likely looking for me to quickly escalate, I did not. Not understanding escalation and greatly enjoying her bad bitch tongue, the make-out session continued for about fifteen minutes. She then noticed the clock change to 3:30, which alarmed her. Of course, she told me that she had to leave. I persisted with kissing for a few more minutes before she gently pulled away, walked to my door, and promised that she would be back very soon. I persisted more by making out with her all the way back to her car, but she eventually held her hand softly to my chest, gave me another promise that she would definitely be back again, hopped in the car, and left.
Obviously, she flaked every time and never came back.
Because there aren't many social circle risks with her, I reason that a hail-mary text wouldn’t be the worst idea. I give it a try with absolutely zero expectations.
Me: Hey HB! It’s been a while since we talked - hope everything is well with you! Personally, I’ve just been working hard with [my job that she thought was cool]. Hopefully we can catch-up sometime soon - what’s your schedule like for tonight?
HB (within minutes): OMG!!!! Lofty!!!!! How r u???!!!
Me: I’m doing well! A bit busy with [job] and everything, but I’m really looking forward to just having a little bit of time to relax with all of the stressful things going on. Are you still working at [place] and having fun there? I’m excited to hear about what you’re up to!
HB: OMG it’s so good to hear from u! I’ve actually graduated early!
Me: Wow, congrats! Looks like we have some really interesting stories to share. Are you still in town?
HB (an hour later): Yeah but only for this weekend and I’m with my bf! *sends picture of some dude smiling and holding a beer*
Me (knowing it’s the end): Ah, hope you two have fun then! It was nice talking to you again, HB
HB: You too Lofty!!!!!
HB (within minutes): OMG!!!! Lofty!!!!! How r u???!!!
Me: I’m doing well! A bit busy with [job] and everything, but I’m really looking forward to just having a little bit of time to relax with all of the stressful things going on. Are you still working at [place] and having fun there? I’m excited to hear about what you’re up to!
HB: OMG it’s so good to hear from u! I’ve actually graduated early!
Me: Wow, congrats! Looks like we have some really interesting stories to share. Are you still in town?
HB (an hour later): Yeah but only for this weekend and I’m with my bf! *sends picture of some dude smiling and holding a beer*
Me (knowing it’s the end): Ah, hope you two have fun then! It was nice talking to you again, HB
HB: You too Lofty!!!!!
I maybe have another old flame that would be interesting to rekindle, but it’s a bit of a sore spot for me. Another FU - this time with a stunning cheerleader. I don’t think about it much anymore, but I'm haunted if it comes to mind.
Could be fun to try tomorrow, however.
Speaking of tomorrow. I am well aware that I need more volume. New venues must be scouted.
As such, I will be taking a bus to the mall in the afternoon. I really wanted to stay within walking distance, but I can be more experimental with my settings now that my primary goal is to grab her number and schedule a date.
So that’s the plan that I’ve decided for Friday.
I’m going to approach beautiful women, sexually intrigue them, get their phone numbers as they giggle, schedule a same-day date, fantastically seduce her, and release all of my emotions in a romantic furor as she realizes that there is no other man who she would rather be laying beneath.
My first two weeks in the field have been eventful, but I'm feeling just a little more skilled everyday.
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