Game/PUA: Why Isn’t Game Working?, Part 5

Here we continue the Game Failing post by Daniel, which now has five parts. The introduction is here.

But I just didn’t know what to do with the attraction. I didn’t know how to translate that attraction into a relationship of any kind – be it sexual, romantic, or even platonic. Not only could I not have sex or romance, I couldn’t even make friends with girls. By the end of freshman year, I had not hooked up with one single girl, nor did I have any female friends. I didn’t have any male friends either.

I think we should talk here more about how to tell if a female likes you. Well, one is the blank stare of course.

One Way to Tell If a Female Likes You – Her Friends Tell You She Does!

One of the first times I saw it was when I was in high schools. We were ditching school that day and we were at someone’s parents’ house, but the parents were gone for work. I think we were smoking pot because when we went to people’s houses like this, it was always to smoke pot.

I think there were at least a few people there, boys and girls. I was 16. There was this Mexican-American girl there. Back then, they were extremely assimilated and mostly they just tried to act White, which I think is still a very good idea.

I was at a table and she was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, just like a girl would do. She was kind of hot. She kept staring at me like she locked into some kind of a trance and could not stop looking at me. Like she was an automaton. Someone informed me that she liked to smoke PCP.

I’m not sure if she was on it then or not, I forget, but that drug was fairly widely used sometimes back in those days. I smoked it myself maybe 5-10 times, mostly unwittingly because people used to pass joints like they were pot but they were PCP instead. The “dusters” thought this was some kind of joke. The first time I smoked it, it was like going to outer space. I was literally on Mars and everyone was an alien.

Anyway, at some point, I think I was informed right there by one of the girls that that Mexican girl liked me.

That girl likes you.

Like a moron, I didn’t do anything about it though.

Well, that’s one of the ways you tell!

I think my first date when I was 16 was when one of my friends  told me,

Hey, see that girl over there. She wants you to take her to the football game.

She was a short blond and she was kind of hot. She was 15. We talked a bit and I took her to the game. I’m not sure what happened, but we simply didn’t hit it off for whatever reason, and there were no more dates. I never could figure out why I didn’t hit it off with her. You typically can’t tell in those cases.

I used to drive an ice cream truck and like the old TV shows, of course I sold dope off of the truck. Basically hashish. I did for a long time and then I started seeing police cars following my truck around. Then some kids came up to me and told me to watch out for some ice cream man drug dealer who sold hash out of his truck. Obviously that was me.

One day at near dusk, I stopped in front of some Chicanos who were living a Chicano lifestyle, as in the Mexican-American subculture. There were a few young men and a very shy beautiful young woman about 18-20 years old. They bought some ice cream and then the guys said,

“We’re all brothers. This is our sister. We just wanted to tell you that our sister likes you!”

Just like that! I looked at her and she very shyly looked at the ground. She was so submissive and feminine that she had to have her brothers ask me for her. Like a moron, I didn’t do anything about it. I’m not sure what my stupid reason was. I was always turning women down when I was young for all sorts of lame reasons.

Another time we were over at someone’s house at a small party. I was 20. We were drinking and smoking pot. I was playing darts on the dartboard. There were people our age there, including underage girls, but back then, 18-21 year old young adults and underage girls hung out together all the time. It seemed like one of the girls was looking at me.

Later one of my friends came up to me and said:

Hey there was a girl there at that party who liked you. Her name is T. She wants you to have her phone number and to call her.

So I did it. She was 16. So I ended up having a wild extremely sexual relationship with this girl for a few months. She was in love with me too, and she even wanted to marry me. How do I know this. One time I was over at her house in her bedroom and had written on a piece of paper with ink her own name spelled different ways, except she always had my last name attached to it. She probably left it out there for me to see. If you ever see that, you’re damn right that chick wants to marry you!

It ended for reasons I still don’t understand.She said, “You’re insecure, Bob.” Idiotically, I said, “Let’s break up.” She agreed. I still don’t know why I did that but I was sort of a big chicken and coward back then about all sorts of things. Plus I was sort of a huge idiot in some other ways. Basically, looking back on it, I was simply immature, that’s all there is to it.

My Mom was not pleased that we were involved. I was 20 and she was 16. Everybody did this back then, but you still might get in trouble. I’d already met her father and he didn’t give a damn, though he gave me a rather concerned look.

Mom: (Furiously) Where were you last night? At T.’s!?

Me: Um, yeah? What, you don’t like it?

Mom: (Angrily) She’s too young!

In other words, she was underage as in illegal, as in jailbait. Really 20 and 16 just out to be legal under Romeo and Juliet exceptions to statutory rape. I shrugged my shoulders but my feelings were hurt. I was always getting my feelings hurt back then. My Mom was a prude though, she made it known that she didn’t believe in premarital sex (she thought it was immoral), and she didn’t even like me having sex with girls over 18. The whole reason was pregnancy.

Mom: (Hissing) You’re going to get one of them pregnant!

Me: No I won’t.

Mom: (Enraged) Well, you might! And then what are you going to do?!

What If You Get Her Pregnant?

I’m still not sure how single men should deal with the conundrum of “Maybe you will get her pregnant.” I wouldn’t recommend staying a virgin for this reason, but unplanned pregnancies are terrifying for a single man. I get it. Date females who use birth control is all I can say.

We still don’t have a good male birth control device other than a condom and those don’t work great. There is supposedly a supplement from India that works well but I forget the name of it. Of course there still is no male birth control pill.

In part this is due to feminists. A chemist was working on one in Brazil in the early 60’s and Betty Friedan got involved and raised a stink and stopped it. She said feminism was opposed to a male pill because it “took away the woman’s decision about whether to have a baby or not.” I’m still mad at feminists over that.

My attitude to men has always been go ahead and have sex with them anyway but figure out if she’s on birth control. Most females back then were on the pill, even high school girls. Others used diaphragms. I saw young women put them in before sex. Others used spermicide foam. I saw women spray it on their pussies before sex. And at one point, I had a girlfriend who used condoms all the time. For some reason, they didn’t interfere with sensation.

The diaphragm was popular back then. My Mom used it. Neither the diaphragm nor foam work all that great, nor do condoms. Now they’re all on the pill or the shot (I recently had sex with a 19 year old girl who went and got a six month shot before our first date). Some are on IUD’s. Both work great.

More Introductions

Often others will come and tell you, “Hey, that girl likes you. Here’s her number. She wants you to call her.”

The “Delighted Smile” + Stare

When I was 20, my 14 year old brother had a friend who had an 18 year old sister. I met the sister one weekend night outside of a party. She was smiling at me and looking at me with reverence. Females often look at men they like that way. They also smile this particular sort of delighted smile while they look at you. It looks something like,

“Ohhh man! Goddamn! I surrrrrre like him! He’s fucking hot!”

Or maybe,

“Damn, what a character! I can’t believe this guy! He looks like such an asshole, but then I think, ‘Hey, that turns me on!'”

It almost looks like they are going to laugh, but it’s not like they are going to make fun of you. I think females think a lot of males they like are funny for some reason. Somehow strong sexual attraction is funny. Maybe it’s a positive peak emotional experience. I guess I would describe the look as “delighted” or “delightful.” It’s the sort of look you have when you really, really like someone and also find them entertaining, like you are watching an actor perform. There’s also an element of outrage to it, but the observer likes the outrage.

If you are getting a look like that, you might want to do something about it. But she might just be looking. One of the last looks I got like that was from this totally hot woman in her 30’s who ran a coffeeshop with her husband, a very goodlooking man. They were off into some fundamentalist Christian crap, but they were also sort of super-hip. You see a lot of this weirdness nowadays. They had five kids already. She was leaning up against the law looking at me like I was the best thing she’d seen in years, with that delighted look on her face like she was going to laugh.

What was I supposed to do? Ask the couple if they would invite me over to their house? Maybe she was just looking and fantasizing. Women do that a lot. Just because that woman looks at you like you’re a roast beef sandwich doesn’t mean she really wants to have sex with you. Maybe you’re just nice to look at and she’s fantasizing about you. Women daydream too you know.

Anyway, my brother came to me and said that his friend’s sister liked me and she wanted me to take her to the prom. This happened but it broke up after a while. I’m still not sure why.

Oh sure, I had acquaintances. I did extracurricular activities and clubs, mostly having to do with politics. Washington DC is a large, diverse city, and there was always something to do. I went to events, rallies, art exhibits. The students I interacted with thought I was a cool dude and would approach and say hi to me on campus.

People gladly sat next to me in the dining hall and ate with me. But they were only into my persona – my David D persona – they weren’t into me. They didn’t even know me. Nobody did.

All I had was my DYD persona, which, like any shiny object, is highly captivating at first but after a while gets old. After a whole year in college, I had not explored friendship, intimacy, or sex. At all. I was a loner – even though nobody knew it!

I’m not getting this at all. He’s attractive and social enough that people seek him to eat with them in the dining hall. They walk up to him and say hi to him on campus. Presumably males and females both were like this. So why doesn’t anyone want to date him?

Why don’t guys even want to befriend him? If this was happening to me, and it used to a lot in junior college at least, guys would be befriending me and we would be hanging out outside of school. Girls would be befriending me and I would be dating them. I would become part of several different social circles that I fluttered around between. This was exactly what junior college was like for me. So why isn’t it happening to this guy? Because he’s 5’2.

He has this David D persona, but it doesn’t last. I don’t understand that at all. By this time, I had developed a persona: the cool guy. And something like, the cool guy who gets chicks. Guys would automatically assume that I was getting women even when I wasn’t. My dentist used to say, “How many girlfriends do you have now? Three?” He said that just based on how I acted I guess. But at that time, I might have had zero. I always lied and said one or two even if I wasn’t with anyone.

So what’s the difference between his David D persona and my “player cool guy” persona? With me, it was not artificial but instead it was an integral part of my identity. It didn’t feel fake or like a costume I put on. It was just me. Even if it wasn’t really me, I brainwashed myself into thinking it was and went through life like that. Is it because his David D persona was fake and ill-fitting? Is it because he was 5’2.

And I was extremely jealous of everyone who was doing those things. I would walk around campus, watching all the couples, wondering how they did it. How could they be so successful when they don’t even know any Game? WTF?

Back in the day, there was no such thing as Game, but some guys knew how to get chicks and others didn’t. There wasn’t any kind of thought-out process involved. There was a sleazy book called How to Pick Up Girls or something around then, and it was more or less just Game + “be an asshole,” you know, the usual advice. But almost nobody read it. You just figured it out as you went along. You observed your friends who were very good at this stuff and watched how they did and observed and took mental notes.

Getting jealous at romantically or sexually successful people is not a good state to be in. I suppose I’ve experienced that but it seemed pathological at the time and I was always trying to get rid of the feeling. Basically envy is crap. The less envious you are in life, the better off you are. And trust me, a lot of horrible people, like narcissists, are consumed with envy.

I’ve never experienced this guy’s “How do they do it?” vibe, so I can’t comment on it. People were always asking me that question! I know how guys get women. This is no mystery to me. That sounds like a bad place for your head to be in though. I imagine he’s baffled and frustrated as Hell.

When school was over, I went on an all-expense paid trip to Israel, courtesy of the Jews.

The guy was Jewish. We learn that earlier.

For 10 days I rode around on a bus with 50 other college freshmen and sophomores from various schools around the US. We stayed in 5-star hotels, ate banquet meals, had all of our activities planned out for us, and all we had to do was enjoy ourselves.

That sounds perfect. I used to go on school-sponsored trips like this like with the Ski Club. Once I went skiing with some friends in Utah. Another time I went to Aspen, Colorado with the Ski Club. I did great on the Colorado trip (got two different women in a week), but I didn’t get anything on the Utah trip. I was 18 in Utah and 20 in Colorado and the maturity difference between myself at those ages was insane. On the Colorado trip, I had the “cool guy” thing down pat. The more success you have, the better this sort of persona gets. Success is fuel for its gas tank.

I was told by previous participants that these types of trips are prime opportunities to hook up with girls. I used everything at my disposal. I built up my skills, took chances, and tried my very best to connect with girls.

This is all good.

It all came to a climax one night while we were staying in a Bedouin tent in the middle of the desert. On this particular night, I felt so confident that I just walked up to a girl who was eating, sat down across the table from her and just looked at her without saying a word.

She immediately started smiling and giggling and asking me about myself. We made deep, sensual eye contact. I was feeling like this was it – the girlfriend I’ve been waiting for all this time! I invited her for a walk around the camp, and she happily agreed. I was sure this was it.

And in the middle of the walk, a guy came up to us and introduced himself. He was her boyfriend. They embraced. I didn’t give up, though!

I’ve had this happen to me before. I went to Yosemite once by myself. The first day there, I rented a bike and rode it around. I saw this hot blonde walking and stopped to talk to her. She had a bikini on and some of her pussy hair was visible outside of her bikini. I looked right at it of course and she just giggled and put her bikini back over the pussy hair. I didn’t say anything. I’m not sure if it would be ok to say something in that case or not.

The fact that she giggled is a great sign and might mean you can comment about it. You would have to think of a really cool comment to make about it and it would have to be some sort of a joke.

This has happened to me quite a few times but I never said anything about it. Some of the times, I was sure the girls were flashing me with their bikinis and shorts. It took me a while to figure out that when a female is across from you sitting down and you can see her pussy, her pussy hair, or her panties, 100% guarantee that she’s flashing you. I have no idea how they flash guys, but it’s never an accident.

This chick told me her campground number and said they were having a party that night and invited me. I thought I had it made. I walked over to the party that night. The party was a pretty wild one and at one point we were smoking pot and then this hippie guy came out of a tent and embraced the girl and it was clear that this was her boyfriend. So why did she invite me to the party?! But it was cool. I was in a very good mood and so were they are everyone was smiling and laughing and the warmest vibes were in the air. I didn’t get mad at her for having a boyfriend or for inviting me when she had a guy. That seemed stupid.

I hung around, hoping to find out that they were just kidding and she was really single.

All right, this part is just stupid. He’s obviously her boyfriend. They wouldn’t tell you if he wasn’t.

But after a while, I figured out that they were a happy couple, and I wasn’t getting any.

Duh.

At the end of the trip, most people who wanted to hook up had done so, even the shy, quiet, nerdy kid. You know the type – every trip has one. The kid who everyone thinks is sexually hopeless – even he hooked up!

Ok, I’m still not getting it. Is it because he’s 5’2? Is he homely or unattractive? I’m not figuring this guy out.

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3 thoughts on “Game/PUA: Why Isn’t Game Working?, Part 5”

  1. That Indian supplement might be Reversible Inhibition of Sperm Under Guidance (RISUG). They also have a pill on the trials

    I remember reading about some new male non-hormonal contraceptives a couple of years ago. I don’t know what happened to them.

    I remember some advice given to young men is to check the cervical mucus of their partners, just in case the girl/woman would be lying about being in birth control in order to get a baby.

    1. How does the cervical mucus thing work? What are you supposed to find if you stick your finger up there? How does that relate to pregnancy?

  2. I’m not sure, nor I remember too much about it. I recall a government school book having a small section about it in the sex ed part. If the fluid is viscous, slippery and stretchy, it means the woman is ovulating and fertile. Therefore, unprotected sex will lead to pregnancy.

    Unrelated, but i have been thinking about the Ukrainian war and the class war aspects. It relates to Western propaganda. It might appear subtler and harder to see than the Russian ethnic hatred, but the propaganda principles put almost as much weight on portraying Ukrainians as middle class, Western European liberals versus foreign Asian rednecks. This is of course, aimed at their targeted public that have been raised to admire oligarchs and monarchs while hating working class people. I’ll talk about that another time, but there are a few examples:

    – Pretty early in the war, with Western journalists describing the Ukrainian refuges, not only focused in in their racial traits, but also social class:

    “What is devastating is looking at them, the way they dress. These are prosperous middle-class people. Obviously, they are not refugees fleeing the Middle East or North Africa. They look like a European family living next to you.”

    – In general, pieces describing what Ukrainians are tend to empathize them as consumers, mostly people that drive cars, buy coffee, and shop at malls.

    To put it in brief, they don’t just have the privilege of being classified human beings for being merely White civilized Europeans but also because their lifestyle and consumption pattern matches those people. That would be the MSM propaganda strategy in a nutshell.

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