- Joined
- Dec 7, 2019
- Messages
- 242
Thursday, January 14, 2021
Street Nightgame
Back at it. The reframing exercise is still to come, but next time, maybe. I want to make sure that I take the time to do it correctly.
Anyway, I’m back in the field. My first chance to shake off the rust was once again at the airport, or rather on the flight. Because I got to the flight as it was boarding, so there wasn’t time to woo the girls in the waiting area like with the fashionista in November.
On the plane, though, I sat next to a cute girl and her boyfriend. I don’t keep up much with the news these days, but I was surprised that the middle seats were being utilized in this panicked millieu. Regardless, I rotated through a variety of SOTs in conversation between the two of them, who also attend the same university as me, while focusing my sexual subcommunications on the girl, of course. Had to include the guy in the conversation sometimes.
These topics included travel, connection, chance encounters with strangers, willingness to open-up and expressing ourselves freely, and the fresh start to the new semester. Most importantly, I was able to identify three topics that really got her talking – communicative disorders (her area of study), mentorship (she works with the president of my university), and sororities (she’s in one). As for the boyfriend, his preferred topics were influence (he excitedly showed me some influence book he was reading… I acted so so surprised) and fraternities. Pretty simple, but it reminded me of the power of perception. Let them talk, get them talking, get them excited, get them stimulated. The girl even “accidentally” brushed her arms and legs against me a couple of times to the boyfriend’s anxious looks. Yeah, I think I got her going.
After the flight, they offered me a ride to my apartment. Which honestly was in the back of my mind the entire time because I did not want to get price-gouged for a shuttle, saving me $100. I kind of set them up for this offer, and they thankfully enjoyed our conversation enough to do so. That’s influence – making them think that it was THEIR idea to offer me a ride. In their comfy BMW.
The two of them dropped me off at my apartment around 5:00 pm. We exchanged contacts, and I did really enjoy their company, too. Good people. Unpacking was quick because I travelled very light, and I readied for my return to the game.
My intention: get laid.
I’m out around 11:30 in a new outfit: a navy windbreaker, jeans, and white Air Force 1s. I also wore a long-sleeved white undershirt and let the sleeves extend beyond the cuffs of the windbreaker to echo the shoes. Liked the look.
My first post-up location is slightly new with the familiarity of old. It’s where I originally tried last semester. There’s a little foot traffic now. After all, many people are excitedly back after spending weeks with their parents.
Not long after, a really hot blonde wearing a tight black shirt nears me. I’m on my phone, catch her eye contact as she passes, and open.
Nice. She’s one of the most alluring girls I’ve approached, and it’s going well. She empathizes with my thoughts on sexual purity, and agrees that true sexual purity is being sexually liberated. Cool. Unfortunately, I learn an important lesson. I have to remember that while on the streets… she’s going somewhere. My transition phases have to be precise.
Instead, I expand the discussion on sexual liberation, and probably speak too much. She keeps agreeing with me, smiling, but our bubble weakens. Then she remembers that she was going to meet up with her friend. I say that if her friend really needs her, she can just call. And plus, her friend would be really happy knowing that she’s having fun herself.
This buys me a few more minutes, so I quickly try to fractionate towards social frame to set-up the pull. Felt like that was needed in this case. I discuss how I live close by, which makes access to this street convenient because it’s such a short walk. Also say how there’s less exciting things going on around the town now but that life is what we make of it – after all, it’s up to us to make our lives better with spontaneity.
She agrees, talking a little about herself and COVID before mentioning that she already told the friend that she was on her way and really needed to meet up with her. I try handling the objection the same way as before, but she just smiles, hugs me, says how nice it was to talk to me, and waves goodbye. I don’t number close because I’ve made the decision not to do that anymore. Also not listing my number of approaches at the start of the entry because the metric that I care about is sex. SDL/SNL mindset to the max.
This approach ended disappointingly, but it was an okay way to build some momentum back. I was feeling pretty good verbally.
As I’m walking along the street, I suddenly notice the silhouette of a familiar girl who is standing in the outside area of a bar. She was probably my first-ever cold approach in the history of my life, and it happened during the pre-Lofty era. I saw her eating alone at a table, and after telling myself that she was that hottest girl I’d ever seen (which was and still is the truth), I had to go and talk to her.
I’ll call this girl HBRedwine, a name based on a topic in our orignial discussion. She is hot as fuck – one of the Kylie Jenner lookalikes. That type. Yeah, kind of clone-ish but hot as fuck. Recently saw that she was on some reality show for college students a while back. Definitely a PPP archetype.
Anyway, I did join her table that day, and we talked for three hours. She eventually asked me to show her where her next class was, but because I did not know the campus then, I shied away. Didn’t understand how to number close or anything, let alone game... so that was that. Saw her a couple months later in a random occurrence. She excitely put her hands on my chest and forearms and stuff. Think that she was a bit tipsy. Completely lost my cool but grabbed her SnapChat. Then ran cringe, CRINGE SnapChat game. Oh my god. Our chats ended quickly.
Frankly, the thought of this girl has been one of my inspirations to become a skilled seducer. Especially in my earliest stages. My unicorn.
Not pedestaling. Just saying.
But back to now. My one chance to talk to her would be to call out and hope she comes over to the edge of the roped-off enclosure.
My heart was beating too fast, though. Some form of trauma froze my veins. I’m generally a cool customer these days… but this got me. That idea to call out didn’t cross my mind until after I had already walked a few steps too many. I blew it.
Would have been bold, but I should have stopped… breathed… and tried. I’m Lofty. Being able to think and do those things on impulse… it was a humble reminder that I’m not where I need to be. But I gave her a name and mention this detail because my intuition says that it’s not over.
All good. I shake it off and continue.
Relaxing my pulse and warming my voice, I engage in a breathing exercise with one finger on my sternum and another near my navel. In... and out.
It’s good that I cooled off. Because I get approached by a group of three girls and one guy while walking. The girls are okay. The guy is defensive of the girls. One girl takes a liking to me rather quickly, asking about my night and such. Next, she invites me to their afterparty. Oh, sure. Why not?
The guy is dismayed, but I join their walk to the party. He continuously tried to get me to leave, making comments such as, “If I were you, I’d leave right now.” Aggressively-charged, of course.
I pacify with friendliness and focus returns to my target. After a few minutes of meta-pacing and immersion, I begin to have serious doubts about her mental state. Eventually, I push the truth into my thick, horny skull: this girl is way too drunk for sex. Once she makes the slurred comment that she drank so much alcohol that she’s about to piss her pants, I eject in search of a lone wolf.
Before long, I find one near the busiest street. An attractive brunette wearing an olive-colored sweater leans against the wall of a building, fixated by her phone. Nice.
I hover for a moment. Her facial expression is not friendly-looking. Tensioned. Mad. So I make a split-second choice to warmely pre-open with a simple, “How is your night going?”
Doesn’t look up from her phone. Maybe she didn’t hear. I read about a situation like this one time. Turned out to be a seduction in seconds.
I repeat.
“How is your night going?”
Doesn’t look up from her phone.
I say whatever and leave. Maybe any further comment might have been uncalibrated, but an initial RPO about her night or something likely would have been more appropriate. A little rustiness on that choice, perhaps?
The time is late by now, and the nippiness of the brisk wind tingles my face. Quiet, cold streets.
One extremely average girl passes by. I’m not drawn to her, but she warmly smiles and asks how my night is going as she nears. I don’t try to hook. Which is a terrible decision.
I’m not at the point where I can be doing that. Come on. A few months of occasional porn and a sexless life until recent has messed with my brain. Dumb.
This ends up being my last opportunity for the night. Oh well. We move on. Greater nights await.
And overall, my verbals felt smooth. It was kinda the other aspects that were a little stiff. Still, I had a couple solid approaches.
Yet while I walk home, a series of questions tease my brain.
This style of street nightgame… does it make things tougher than they need to be? Am I putting myself in the best situation for seduction? Is it efficient to have to build social frame so quickly, as I am a stranger on the street? Is it efficient to try and seduce girls who are already going somewhere, or already have a ride on the way? And even if these can be negated, is it efficient to try and do so with minimal, small-town, COVID-time foot traffic? And waking up the next day groggy and exhausted, taking away daygame opportunities?
Thinking needs to be done. Re-thinking, even.
Back at it.
Street Nightgame
Back at it. The reframing exercise is still to come, but next time, maybe. I want to make sure that I take the time to do it correctly.
Anyway, I’m back in the field. My first chance to shake off the rust was once again at the airport, or rather on the flight. Because I got to the flight as it was boarding, so there wasn’t time to woo the girls in the waiting area like with the fashionista in November.
On the plane, though, I sat next to a cute girl and her boyfriend. I don’t keep up much with the news these days, but I was surprised that the middle seats were being utilized in this panicked millieu. Regardless, I rotated through a variety of SOTs in conversation between the two of them, who also attend the same university as me, while focusing my sexual subcommunications on the girl, of course. Had to include the guy in the conversation sometimes.
These topics included travel, connection, chance encounters with strangers, willingness to open-up and expressing ourselves freely, and the fresh start to the new semester. Most importantly, I was able to identify three topics that really got her talking – communicative disorders (her area of study), mentorship (she works with the president of my university), and sororities (she’s in one). As for the boyfriend, his preferred topics were influence (he excitedly showed me some influence book he was reading… I acted so so surprised) and fraternities. Pretty simple, but it reminded me of the power of perception. Let them talk, get them talking, get them excited, get them stimulated. The girl even “accidentally” brushed her arms and legs against me a couple of times to the boyfriend’s anxious looks. Yeah, I think I got her going.
After the flight, they offered me a ride to my apartment. Which honestly was in the back of my mind the entire time because I did not want to get price-gouged for a shuttle, saving me $100. I kind of set them up for this offer, and they thankfully enjoyed our conversation enough to do so. That’s influence – making them think that it was THEIR idea to offer me a ride. In their comfy BMW.
The two of them dropped me off at my apartment around 5:00 pm. We exchanged contacts, and I did really enjoy their company, too. Good people. Unpacking was quick because I travelled very light, and I readied for my return to the game.
My intention: get laid.
I’m out around 11:30 in a new outfit: a navy windbreaker, jeans, and white Air Force 1s. I also wore a long-sleeved white undershirt and let the sleeves extend beyond the cuffs of the windbreaker to echo the shoes. Liked the look.
My first post-up location is slightly new with the familiarity of old. It’s where I originally tried last semester. There’s a little foot traffic now. After all, many people are excitedly back after spending weeks with their parents.
Not long after, a really hot blonde wearing a tight black shirt nears me. I’m on my phone, catch her eye contact as she passes, and open.
Me: Hey there, I have a VERY important question to ask you.
HB (keeps walking): Yeah? What is it?
Me: Well, hold on. Do you consider yourself an open-minded person?
HB (stops): Yeah…
Me: Alright, great. Come back over here because I really need to talk to an open-minded person about this.
HB (comes back over to me): Haha okay
Me: Well I’ve been thinking about something… maybe you’ve noticed it, too… like… have you ever had the feeling… when you go out… that it’s just kind of like the same old, same old... same bars, same drinks, maybe not the same people... but the SAME attitudes... like people who only view you as a sexual object? Yeah like we never stop hoping that tonight’s the night when I’ll meet HER or you’ll meet HIM... but I mean... we always cling to the hope that it’ll still happen… that’s kind of where I’m at right now, you know?
HB: Yeah, every girl I know has that feeling! We all think, maybe tonight’s the night that I’ll meet my boyfriend, so I have to go out! But it rarely happens…
Me: That makes a lot of sense… because the guys at the bars… well, you know how they are, of course… maybe there are some guys standing around who are kind of eyeing you and you’re eying him back, like smiling and giggling and feeling turned on, but it just drags on… and on… and on… and they never have the guts to come over and talk to you… like you’re a monster or something… but you’re not… I mean that must be part of the reason you go out… to meet cute boys?
HB: Of course, yeah
Me: On the other hand, there are the guys who DO approach you. So you feel warm and happy and validated that they think you’re pretty… but then very quickly you realize that these aren’t the guys who you WANT to talk to… they’ll all weird, groping you, being pushy, looking at you like a tasty piece of meat… I see it all of the time… it must be exhausting… you probably wonder when you’ll ever meet someone who is different… who wants YOU for YOU…
HB: Yes! Let me guess – you have a lot of friends who are girls?
Me: Hmmm… that’s really interesting… you’re really perceptive. What makes you think that?
HB: Just that most guys don’t think this way. Not stepping into other people’s shoes and stuff.
Me: Yeah… that’s true... and sure, I always love fascinating conversations with girls… for example, take a listen to what my friend Jada was telling me… [my take on the sexual purity gambit]
HB (keeps walking): Yeah? What is it?
Me: Well, hold on. Do you consider yourself an open-minded person?
HB (stops): Yeah…
Me: Alright, great. Come back over here because I really need to talk to an open-minded person about this.
HB (comes back over to me): Haha okay
Me: Well I’ve been thinking about something… maybe you’ve noticed it, too… like… have you ever had the feeling… when you go out… that it’s just kind of like the same old, same old... same bars, same drinks, maybe not the same people... but the SAME attitudes... like people who only view you as a sexual object? Yeah like we never stop hoping that tonight’s the night when I’ll meet HER or you’ll meet HIM... but I mean... we always cling to the hope that it’ll still happen… that’s kind of where I’m at right now, you know?
HB: Yeah, every girl I know has that feeling! We all think, maybe tonight’s the night that I’ll meet my boyfriend, so I have to go out! But it rarely happens…
Me: That makes a lot of sense… because the guys at the bars… well, you know how they are, of course… maybe there are some guys standing around who are kind of eyeing you and you’re eying him back, like smiling and giggling and feeling turned on, but it just drags on… and on… and on… and they never have the guts to come over and talk to you… like you’re a monster or something… but you’re not… I mean that must be part of the reason you go out… to meet cute boys?
HB: Of course, yeah
Me: On the other hand, there are the guys who DO approach you. So you feel warm and happy and validated that they think you’re pretty… but then very quickly you realize that these aren’t the guys who you WANT to talk to… they’ll all weird, groping you, being pushy, looking at you like a tasty piece of meat… I see it all of the time… it must be exhausting… you probably wonder when you’ll ever meet someone who is different… who wants YOU for YOU…
HB: Yes! Let me guess – you have a lot of friends who are girls?
Me: Hmmm… that’s really interesting… you’re really perceptive. What makes you think that?
HB: Just that most guys don’t think this way. Not stepping into other people’s shoes and stuff.
Me: Yeah… that’s true... and sure, I always love fascinating conversations with girls… for example, take a listen to what my friend Jada was telling me… [my take on the sexual purity gambit]
Instead, I expand the discussion on sexual liberation, and probably speak too much. She keeps agreeing with me, smiling, but our bubble weakens. Then she remembers that she was going to meet up with her friend. I say that if her friend really needs her, she can just call. And plus, her friend would be really happy knowing that she’s having fun herself.
This buys me a few more minutes, so I quickly try to fractionate towards social frame to set-up the pull. Felt like that was needed in this case. I discuss how I live close by, which makes access to this street convenient because it’s such a short walk. Also say how there’s less exciting things going on around the town now but that life is what we make of it – after all, it’s up to us to make our lives better with spontaneity.
She agrees, talking a little about herself and COVID before mentioning that she already told the friend that she was on her way and really needed to meet up with her. I try handling the objection the same way as before, but she just smiles, hugs me, says how nice it was to talk to me, and waves goodbye. I don’t number close because I’ve made the decision not to do that anymore. Also not listing my number of approaches at the start of the entry because the metric that I care about is sex. SDL/SNL mindset to the max.
This approach ended disappointingly, but it was an okay way to build some momentum back. I was feeling pretty good verbally.
As I’m walking along the street, I suddenly notice the silhouette of a familiar girl who is standing in the outside area of a bar. She was probably my first-ever cold approach in the history of my life, and it happened during the pre-Lofty era. I saw her eating alone at a table, and after telling myself that she was that hottest girl I’d ever seen (which was and still is the truth), I had to go and talk to her.
I’ll call this girl HBRedwine, a name based on a topic in our orignial discussion. She is hot as fuck – one of the Kylie Jenner lookalikes. That type. Yeah, kind of clone-ish but hot as fuck. Recently saw that she was on some reality show for college students a while back. Definitely a PPP archetype.
Anyway, I did join her table that day, and we talked for three hours. She eventually asked me to show her where her next class was, but because I did not know the campus then, I shied away. Didn’t understand how to number close or anything, let alone game... so that was that. Saw her a couple months later in a random occurrence. She excitely put her hands on my chest and forearms and stuff. Think that she was a bit tipsy. Completely lost my cool but grabbed her SnapChat. Then ran cringe, CRINGE SnapChat game. Oh my god. Our chats ended quickly.
Frankly, the thought of this girl has been one of my inspirations to become a skilled seducer. Especially in my earliest stages. My unicorn.
Not pedestaling. Just saying.
But back to now. My one chance to talk to her would be to call out and hope she comes over to the edge of the roped-off enclosure.
My heart was beating too fast, though. Some form of trauma froze my veins. I’m generally a cool customer these days… but this got me. That idea to call out didn’t cross my mind until after I had already walked a few steps too many. I blew it.
Would have been bold, but I should have stopped… breathed… and tried. I’m Lofty. Being able to think and do those things on impulse… it was a humble reminder that I’m not where I need to be. But I gave her a name and mention this detail because my intuition says that it’s not over.
All good. I shake it off and continue.
Relaxing my pulse and warming my voice, I engage in a breathing exercise with one finger on my sternum and another near my navel. In... and out.
It’s good that I cooled off. Because I get approached by a group of three girls and one guy while walking. The girls are okay. The guy is defensive of the girls. One girl takes a liking to me rather quickly, asking about my night and such. Next, she invites me to their afterparty. Oh, sure. Why not?
The guy is dismayed, but I join their walk to the party. He continuously tried to get me to leave, making comments such as, “If I were you, I’d leave right now.” Aggressively-charged, of course.
I pacify with friendliness and focus returns to my target. After a few minutes of meta-pacing and immersion, I begin to have serious doubts about her mental state. Eventually, I push the truth into my thick, horny skull: this girl is way too drunk for sex. Once she makes the slurred comment that she drank so much alcohol that she’s about to piss her pants, I eject in search of a lone wolf.
Before long, I find one near the busiest street. An attractive brunette wearing an olive-colored sweater leans against the wall of a building, fixated by her phone. Nice.
I hover for a moment. Her facial expression is not friendly-looking. Tensioned. Mad. So I make a split-second choice to warmely pre-open with a simple, “How is your night going?”
Doesn’t look up from her phone. Maybe she didn’t hear. I read about a situation like this one time. Turned out to be a seduction in seconds.
I repeat.
“How is your night going?”
Doesn’t look up from her phone.
I say whatever and leave. Maybe any further comment might have been uncalibrated, but an initial RPO about her night or something likely would have been more appropriate. A little rustiness on that choice, perhaps?
The time is late by now, and the nippiness of the brisk wind tingles my face. Quiet, cold streets.
One extremely average girl passes by. I’m not drawn to her, but she warmly smiles and asks how my night is going as she nears. I don’t try to hook. Which is a terrible decision.
I’m not at the point where I can be doing that. Come on. A few months of occasional porn and a sexless life until recent has messed with my brain. Dumb.
This ends up being my last opportunity for the night. Oh well. We move on. Greater nights await.
And overall, my verbals felt smooth. It was kinda the other aspects that were a little stiff. Still, I had a couple solid approaches.
Yet while I walk home, a series of questions tease my brain.
This style of street nightgame… does it make things tougher than they need to be? Am I putting myself in the best situation for seduction? Is it efficient to have to build social frame so quickly, as I am a stranger on the street? Is it efficient to try and seduce girls who are already going somewhere, or already have a ride on the way? And even if these can be negated, is it efficient to try and do so with minimal, small-town, COVID-time foot traffic? And waking up the next day groggy and exhausted, taking away daygame opportunities?
Thinking needs to be done. Re-thinking, even.
Back at it.
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