DukeD's Blog

Sunday was my last day in S.F.
I hadn't gotten any real success except the flight attendant on Friday, so I was feeling dejected. The couple I was with wanted to hit up Mission, telling me stories about the badass bars and clubs in the district. I bit... but with one caveat: in order to get some godlike clarity, I wanted to find the Phone Booth, where jlaix's 'chess club girl' story ended.

We went to this little place called Benders on S Van Ness, 8 blocks or so from phone booth, so I felt anticipation build up. Benders sucks, by the way. No girls (the bartenders are cute tho) and free hamburgers. PBR is $2 and they'll shotgun rack it for you with a can opener. The only people there was a biker gang and a whole bunch of hipsters with slacks and track shoes. After checking out the resin tables with people's fake I.D.'s screwed into them, I stepped over the bikes and various dogs in the bar to get the hell out. I still haven't gotten used to the smell of weed in public.

We trekked through some hispanic church district to the Phone booth... and walked inside. I stepped over another dog. This place is about 3 times as big as my bedroom, with just about as much to do. Oh well, you can light up a cigarette inside and nobody gives you shit.

with the Hipsters, the smoky interior, and the Amsterdam-ish lighting, the place reminded me of what Hell's waiting room would look like if they had free popcorn and played 80's songs on the jukebox. In hell, PBR is $2.50. I took a picture outside, just for posterity's sake, and couldn't help but think that this place should be bigger. I stepped over a snuggly looking labrador to get teh the bathroom.

By now, it must have been 6 years since jlaix was here running his game, but it pulls everything into perspective. While I've been learning, going out every night to find new prospects, I've been rolling into a goldmine. Seriously. The Terrace on a Wednesday night has more scenery than most of these places I've been to in S.F. on a weekend, and I've been to 20-something bars this weekend. Jlaix learned HERE? Everything was tight little groups of people that seemed to know each other forever. Practical battalions of hipster chodes bouncing around, this place is a nightmare. It makes all the little L.A. girls I've been scared to approach for the last five months seem like childs play. My respect for Executive coach game just increased tenfold.

A 2 set was by the door. I looked over, they gave me the look of doom even before I walked up. Two others took their place. Full-blown, man-hating lesbians. Intimidated, I kicked back 4 PBR's, and got sufficiently drunk enough to hopscotch out the door. I was happy to have visited the proving ground of legends, but there were better places to be, or so I thought.

We ate at a little Taqueria on Mission, and then off to Kilo-Watt. There are 5 girls here all night. All attached to guys I wouldn't choose to hang out with on bad day. I'm pretty good at darts, though, so I passed the time.

We go to Zeitgeist. The place is empty. The patio is empty. Some crappy beer, crappier music, a couple of card tricks, and a game of pinball later, It's time to bring my weekend in S.F. to a close. Screw Sunday nights on Mission.

The day was kind of boring, but I did get inspiration from visiting the stomping grounds of giants. I gained a new respect for small bar game, and most importantly, I have very little excuses for opening in my hometown. I'm definitely a SoCal man, and NorCal dynamics seem super cutthroat compared to my own local places. Armed with a newfound appreciation for the selection around home, I will always keep the awe-inspiring challenges of SanFran game close to heart to battle the excuses.
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we took off from there over to O'reilly's, which was dead at the time. I've never seen so many big girls in one place since weightwatchers. 11o'clock hit, and I started to turn on. Black eyed peas came on and I started crossing the indifference threshhold. I opened everybody, Including a bachelorette party and a few mixed sets. No real hooks.

We left there for the late night pizza and I opened 3 couples in line. They like a certain image, so I pulled it off. No dice there either.

Went home with a fuckin' hilarious cabbie and called it a night.

I totally forgot to talk about the 2 english girls I met in Girhardhelli who facebook closed me, and the utter Goddess of a local I met in chinatown who taught me to play dice at Bhudda.

Long day, no closes, but I still did it. Goodnight!
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Started with touristy stuff. BCompulsive called one of her friends to accompany us, and she was in for it. I ran her into the ground, got positive feedback, then asserted that without a doubt, she didn't love her boyfriend.

She took off and we started barhopping in North Beach. At rogue brewery there was a 6set. I didn't open. We took off to a small bar off broadway and I didn't open anything there either.

Then we went to the sweetest atmosphere I'd ever seen, Tosca. The bartenders wore vests and they had hat racks and everything. they used old-school registers and the jukebox was full of sinatra and dean martin. This place rules. There was a massive 8set there, but I doubted my strength, didn't open.

I opened a cocktail waitress, but I took too long and she went back to work. So I went outside to smoke. I ignored the couple-set on the wall and waited for girls to walk by.

Thee girls dressed out for winning walked by. I didn't open. what a chode. One of them was scanning, and locked with me for what seemed like forever... the hottest chick I'd see all night. She was willing me to open. I didn't. Chode.

We went back in, but got bored, so we rolled out. It was about 930. I figured I'd better open somebody, so I opened a couple to get more info on the club scene. They directed us to crowbar, which was definitiveky closed when we got there. I opened 2 seperate sets of Asians with 4 inch heels and 3 inch skirts, and they werere all looking for a club called Apt. 24. We directed them there, and I made a mental note to go to Apt. 24 when I came back to Frisco.

Called PUAInnerRichmond and he directed us to an Irish bar called Maggie McGerry's. Holy shit, this place rocks. They've got girls for days and a live 80's cover band called Fast Times. Win.

I rolled directly to the dancefloor and danced until I was soaked. I opened 3 girls on the dancfoor, but they weren't having it. I think they were simple unreceptive to my wiles.

we left there and went to Savoy. 2 seperate sets were giving me the 'come talk to me'.
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Did I mention I'm Drunk? Wow, the kids in San Fransisco party SO hard.
We bounced around to all sorts of little bars, and met up with PUAInnerRichmond and he inteoduced us to the bars that actually had girls in them.

We met up at the Bitter End, where darts led into an interesting dynamic with a couple out on a date. She was really into us, and when quizzed she said: 'I barely know this guy'. No other prospects, so we bounced.

We went to Buckshot, which was a really young crowd tonight... but I found a new love: PBR. I bought a round and it cost me $8. seriously, PBR is my new girlfriend.

Dancefloor warmed me up. Have to cross that indifference threshhold. On girl opened me, trying to get me in the circle... but I wasn't about to follow up the breakdance phenomenon that was taking place. Note to self: learn to breakdance.

We rolled outside and opened two hotties: no dice. Yeah, this place is lame anyway... and we bounced to this other cute little bar where InnerRichmong opened this lone wolf with tats. She blew through his game and stared me down for a minute.

She said she loved my eyes,Oh man it's on. Number close. The DJ seemed to think she belonged to him and he blew me out Hard. she txted me after and should be meeting up with us in North Beach tomorrow.

Drunk, sleepy... Duke out.
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Short update, since I'm doing it from my phone. I'm in San Fransisco right now, visiting PUASoSure with one of his girls, HBCompulsive. I had to take a vacation. I think this weekend will help me get my head straight.

HBBigDeal from my english class took some initiative today.. but it was mostly fluff talk about San Fransisco. If she asks me about my trip on tuesday, I'll number close then.

No approaches, since I was so busy at school today, and the rest was taken up by the car ride from L.A. to S.F. I chatted up Compulsive for 5 hours on the drive... but nothing going anywhere, since she's making moaning noises in the other room as I type.

We went to 2 bars as soon as we got in. There was only a 2set in the first one and a bunch of persian guys. I should have opened the 2set for practice, but I wasn't into them. Old community wisdom says don't waste time. So I didn't.

The second bar was worse. there were about 8 girls there, and the binary system said 'no'. The one that was intriguing turned out to be a full-blown lesbian after all that talk .

Then I got drunk. Tomorrow will be glorious. I'm in the city!
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I got half an hour of sleep last night. My Day4 with HBImage turned into a no-sleep fest with School and work stuffed in between. I've got two big assignments due tomorrow, and I have to pack my bag and head of to San Fransisco for a much needed vacation. I pray I don't sleep through my alarm.

HBRevenge called me yesterday to see if she could come over today. I had forgotten to reply because my head's been all messed up by Image, and we ended up setting it up via txt in the middle of Image and my walk through the Santa Monica sand. I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic being in the same place as my first RSD seminar in Santa Monica... on a Day4 with what looks like the girl of my dreams.

A week and a half ago, Revenge decided she would make it a point to serendipitously drop by. We talked and talked and kino'd and talked for hours. Then she left. It's interesting that she wants to pick it up again, so I had her pick me up and take me home from school... but I was pretty delirious already from no sleep. She wanted coffee and cigarettes on my porch. So that's what she got.

Another 4 hours goes by and I kino'd the hell out of her so I got her snuggling. Trust, connection, rapport... all going smoothly. This looks like it's becoming a regular thing. For the last few days, I've really been affected by RSDRyan's "Give her interest to make her feel like somebody is interested" concept. It cemented in my head that I am simply a guy of value, and so it's a good feeling for women to know that guys like me take notice of them. A mindbender, but is one of the best things to happen to me lately when it comes to behavioral change. Now I'm off physically playing boyfriend to every girl I come across. It ends up not coming across desperate, since I do it for the contribution factor. It's weird how one small change in my mind changed everything in my outer game.

I went to Chem class to quiz it up. I open one cutie in the quad... BAM! Still in highschool, taking college courses for credit. Self-blowout. I sat down next to one of my chem classmates, complimented the way her shirt hung off her body, and snuggled the shit out of her, just to make her feel like somebody wants to snuggle the shit out of her.

I started falling asleep in lecture, but dedication is dedication. I have to go out. I got a call from HBTinyTot and BPlaysWithDolls to hit Sunset, but I decided to go meet up with HBMostLikelyToShare at Crown instead. She's there with PUAGotItMade and EmoDir and English are making out, trying to draw attention to the fact that they got each other. Fun shit, but it's getting old. I get it, man. I get it.

There were no girls there, so I called BGarterBows and she sounded like she needed attention. She came over and I kino'd the shit out of her, lap-snuggles... she started kiss-testing. I blow that off, since I don't want to wake up next to her and have to hear it from my roommates. But I kept the heat on, while verbally explaining the gift nature of what I was doing. She agreed that she just needed to know somebody thought she was cute... I was more than happy to oblige.

BPoetAngel kept trying to make eye contact, but then finally just came over. Her hug lasted far too long, and then she paused, looked into my eyes, and said... "I love you" in that way that it sounds like she's joking, but you know she's not. "I love you back, babydoll.." She left with stars in her eyes. That's all she's getting.

I came home early (1am) because I have so much to do tomorrow. Goodnight!
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OMG Win.
Tonight was up in the air, I didn't know where I was going to go. HBPlayette saw HBImage at work and totally wingmanned for me. HBImage txted me up looking for the hairbrush she left at my place on our Day2.

If you read yesterday's post, you'd understand how ecstatic I feel for finally getting to Day4 with Image. I went to fight class, in order to pull myself out of the slump state the cigarette smoking has given me, and to amp up the energy for my Day4.

After a brief power struggle about who was driving, I finally conceded with a caveat that she had to find someplace interesting to go. I go to pick her up, and lo and behold... she had nothing. I'm through with the power games. I just let that go without really enforcing anything. She can have that, but she knows she owes me.

I started the night with one thought: Be real. Be authentic. Find awkward moments and live in them. Early kino was well recieved, and the whole night was spent shifting in and out of rapport. I venue changed 3 times and led all night.

4 hours in, though, the conversation shifted into rapport. The kind of pinging that friends have, not lovers. I saw the danger, but didn't want to fight the flow of the interaction, knowing that any sort of depth with Image was going to rock my world.

We talked about love. We talked about our own personal quests for growth, I ranged different tonalities and speeds. The whole night was a big awkward, but strangely comfortable experience for both of us. I parked in front of her house around 3am, and sat there for 2 more hours talking about our life goals and new realizations. It was glorious... but I could feel the sexual tension dying out in the first 15 minutes.

I didn't know what to do to keep it on track, so I went with it. Everything that came out of my mouth was vulnerable and authentic. I'm emotionally drained.

I had to do something to make sure she didn't FriendZone me out of assumption.
So I told her about RSDRyan's "Tell her to come over. Not to get her to come over, but to let her know that there's a guy in the world who wants her to come over". I told her;
"I'm actively pursuing you. Not as a... Just know." I walked her to her door.

She didn't know what to do. The timing for physical escalation was bad, coming off of a long deep rapport conversation. I snuggled, kissed her temple, and bounced.

The whole night was anti-game. But it felt right. I felt raw. I led with vulnerability, she reciprocated. I don't know what's happening, but I feel like this one needs to be organic. I feel that if I try to run game like I normally do, I'm going to lose a great thing.

Tyler says "do what works". I'm REALLY good at the standing still in chaos, leading into intimacy thing. Although I think that approach is not helpful for the game I'm trying to learn, it comes from my inner self with true authenticity. I don't know if I can close this one or not. But I know I didn't leave anything behind.

And, to make sure I'm not getting tunnel vision, I set up a Day3 with HBDevilInABlueDress tomorrow via txt. She can have standard game.

Fuck man. I'm tired. And out.  
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I ended up drunk as shit last night, and a hangover is nobody's friend. I was going to do something creative, but HBPlayette was on the computer so we're all a little too snuggly in our beds around here.

I txted HBMostLikelyToShare about our Day2 and she said she's on her way over. Stumbling around looking for water and a lighter, I took stock of my pathetic life. While starting longingly into the haze that covers the Conejo Valley, I depressingly felt the weight of the overarching loneliness settling my soul down. With each crackle of the Camel Crush that seemed like such a pointless tooth-paste-in-the-nail-holes patch over the void that is my romantic life, my breaths got deeper and longer, and the sighs extended to match.

She broke the seal. I was doing just fine being a stone-cold tactitian. Feelings are boring, makeouts are awesome. I liked myself, I was strong, my reality was pervasive, but then she came. You know, like in the movies, there's that girl? The one he can't stop thinking about, the one whose scent permeates every breath, the one whose smile can suck the pain out of the world? That one. HBImage, who didn't seem so important at first take, has taken on a truly larger-than-life interpretation in my head over the last week, ever since our Day2 last Monday.

Image was a young scene girl with an fire and ambition rivaling my good days in field. She had taken a liking to PUAEmoDir and was one of the players in the scandalous Act II of EmoDir's brief hiatus from hopeless romanticism. I've been winging this and 4 other girls for 3 weeks while EmoDir tried to make a decision about who he was going to pin down and so I figured I was safe. She fit into the category of beautiful disasters who would eventually start stabbing shit once they realized EmoDir didn't choose them (but that's another story). Well, he finally made his choice (HBEnglish) and it looked like the beautiful disaster was going to turn ugly.

9am last Sunday, I get a text from Image. "Hey love bug! come get coffee with me tomorrow, ya?". Bewildered (she hadn't txted me in 2 weeks), I set it up. I met her at the local Starbucks and start off with stories and allusions to value... passions.. normal Day2 feel-me-out-and-I'll-go-first kind of stuff. She didn't falter. She didn't look confused. She didn't adore me. She didn't pause too long trying to formulate her responses... she got me. It just flowed, and our conversation calibrated in the first 10 minutes and carried on like we had known each other for years.

One of the RSD material todo's was to create a blueprint woman. To write down specifically what I was looking for in the distant future, and let that be my fire to drive me through the pain of the blowouts and the cold shoulders. I did it months ago, and I can almost still recite each quality with its summary description from memory. While in the middle of the conversation (and an empty latte) I took a metaphysical zoomed-out look at my head as she put little check marks next to each of my blueprint girl's qualities with each beautifully detailed topic that fell out of her pouty lips.

Is this the girl? I'm not ready yet! I'm supposed to be in this game for like... 2 years before I meet her! I can't stop the dedication and discipline to get to instructor-level rockstar status game to date some girl! How am I supposed to get out to clubs and work on me if I give it to her?
CALM DOWN, DUKE... you're fine. She likes EmoDir (skinny scenester type)... so you're definitely not her type. You don't have anything to worry about.

Just to be sure, I explained my quest for instructor-level game and let her in on the world so she wouldn't get any ideas. I laid it all out there in summary, from the tactics to the depressing blowout extravaganza nights that left me in fetal position in my bed, wondering why I ever started this stuff in the first place. She didn't flinch. She got it. Saw into it, and saw through it. She genuinely applauded my quest and appreciated my passion... that's not how this conversation is supposed to go down. CALM DOWN, DUKE. Nothing to worry about. She likes skinny emo kids. She won't ruin the good thing we've got going on here.

Starbucks closed. I started to bid her adieu... I had already time-constrained the Day2 to 10pm in the earlier text message banter-fest. She said... isn't there another place open? But wait... don't you have to go? I explained; "Well, it's kind of variable, you see... if you give a woman a time constraint, she feels safer hanging out with you. That way, if the interaction doesn't go well, she doesn't feel stuck." She looked me dead in the eye and stated with BR tonality; "You're gaming me?".

"I game everybody, babe. The point is to BE. Not DO." That should have clinched it... no more problem. She should get mildly offended and excuse herself knowing that she was a target, that way she could avoid the threat that was standing in front of her and I could go to the club, safe and sound in my pursuit of self-actualization without some girl screwing it all up. "Your call... where do we go next?" she said, bitchslapping the smugness out of my head.

Uh... "Starbucks by the movie theater". Fine... if you want to play, little girl, you can have another hour of tactic-based, manipulatively-spun conversation, with commentary. Then, in apprehension, you'll really blow yourself out and I can go along my merry way.

One hour turned into more direct, non-judgemental, conversational flow. I kept throwing stuff out to try to freak her out and scare her off, and she kept reinterpreting it as value. I amped up the sexual aggression, dropped into deep rapport, pulled out quickly and cut it off. I explained it in process, and by the end of the conversation, felt reasonably sure that no future could be had between us. If there's anything I can do well, I can shoot myself in the foot.

I got up to leave and she wanted to come with me to the club. I protested... "but EmoDir and English will be there, and I'm sure you don't want to see that." She says its cool, so I made her drive. When we get to the club, it's the same old game. EmoDir drops HBEnglish in my lap so that he can isolate Image, and I wingman like a champ. EmoDir came back with a horrified look on his face, and said "She just stormed out. She couldn't handle it".

He passed the baton, and I jogged out to the parking structure to play post-war reconstruction.
"BABYDOLL!!!!" We drive to the top of the structure, overlooking the strip-mall. Cry snuggle, hug, cry. The game took over. Kino-escalate, drive into rapport, generate trust... "Touch is my primary love language."
"Mine too"
"Come here"
I looked down at my shirt to find no black smudges, to my surprise. Must be waterproof mascara. I talked about relational incompatibility and self-deception, things I know all too well. She calmed down and told the truth;

"I'm not compatible with him. I just wanted to WIN." It turns out the most attractive quality about EmoDir is his ladies-in-waiting. I double-taked... she wasn't rationalizing. She was being authentic. A moment of clarity encircled us as I explained the exact same feelings about the girls I've been after with the same authenticity. We traded back and forth, expressing a deep love for the ups and downs of the game, the thrill of the chase, almost finishing each other sentances. It was a little too surreal. I told her to get in the car and she txts me... "Thanks for being you."

I waited a day, txted her on Thursday; "Do you wanna dance your tailfeathers off with me, tonight, dearest?" "Yes sir! sounds fantastical!" We worked out logistics, and THEN she asked
"Where are we going?"

Epiphany; It dawned on me that she had said yes. To ME. Not "Who's all going?", not "Where At?", not looking for the better offer. I had asked her to go with me, and she committed. That shit doesn't happen to me.

We danced like it was the Matrix's Zion. Various other girls kept stealing me away, twatswatting and lap-sitting and drink-spilling. This is awesome. Let's see if jealousy plotlines work on these other chicks and have a good time. Image is getting tired. I told her, I better take you home now, because we're gonna be out till 4. Holding hands, off to the car, while my dumb ass is still hoping she has no interest, because she's the first woman I could legitimately fall for in the last 5 months.

As we walked, she mumbled something I couldn't quite hear... "What?" "Nothing."

I said "I could keep you out with us 'till 4, but I wouldn't want to do that to you, sleepyhead"... she said "You don't know what I'd like you to do to me." I pretended not to hear her. "What?" "Nothing."

-- Let me take a moment to explain what an utter fucking chode I am.
1. She fits the blueprint.
2. She gets me. Vibes with me. And has jumped through all of my hoops meant to scare her off.
3. She wants me to close
4. I'm legitimately SCARED SHITLESS 

I took her home. She kept mumbling stuff too low for my deaf ass to hear but I'm sure they were meant to hook me. "What?" "Nothing." *giggle*

At her house, I got out of the car and snuggled. Hug. She stopped nose-to-nose with me for what seemed like an eternity.

Duke. You know what to do. WTF! Man UP!

I broke the the hold and told her to have a good night. Everything got awkward.

"What kind of man are you, Duke? Ever hear about windows of opportunity?" My inner PUA voice scolded.
I whined back... but she's rebounding... she drank tonight... she'd never love a player... she... Excuses flowed into the hole in my manhood, patching it up for the moment.

Since then, I can't stop thinking about her. She stands out from everyone. I didn't like her because she showed me attention, I didn't like her because she's hot. I didn't like her because she made me look good in the club. I like her because I've met my match. My head couldn't process the challenge.

I txted her Saturday to hang out.
She said she had to work early, and we need to reschedule.
I said "I like jumping through hoops :) You want to see me. I vote informal coffee before I go out. 30 mins."
She shut me down. "Not tonight mr <3 I'll see you soon"
Nobody responds to me when they've already told me no and I push harder. They just don't reply. Community material flows through my head; "Give her the gift of missing you"... but this time, roles were reversed. Devastated, but hopeful. I'm getting gamed by a girl. Oh boy.

Back to today, groggy and waking up. As I dropped the burned out filter of the Camel Crush into the frat-partyish row of bottles on my patio, my head snapped, like a torpedo just hit the hull. Years of community material rushed in, hoping to drown out the paralyzing thought patterns that besieged my brain.
Ah, look there! Another AFC Chode in the clutches of One-Itis.
Stop it! ... FTOW. See how important she is in the glory of a playing field littered with sexual conquests.
Select From Abundance! You don't even know this girl! Don't spend your time thinking, constructing things that don't exist! Get back in-field, and see that they're all uniquely the same.

None of it worked. I've absorbed material too long, and my game has been too short as of late to comfortably close a replacement. Women are my drug... this one is my direct elecrostimulus to the hypothalamus. I'd rather bar-press than eat.

It's a stand-off that pits my old self against my new self against my future self, against my ego. My Day2 with MostLikelyToShare was totally platonicized by this new development, and the night at the club went by without anything of note. HBTinyTot, another one on my list, couldn't even keep my attention. It's like everything, (the club, the other girls on the rotation, the other new sets, the friggin' DAY2 with a 9) went black-and-white blurry while this inner struggle rages on in full Technicolor.

Deida says to lean just beyond my edge. I've been on it for a week. Love is a self-hypnosis. I'm tranced out, all Sphinx-of-imagination style. However this ends, I'm going to come out a different person. I don't even know what to do. I'm strangely comfortable with my self on the chopping block, vulnerable and naked while my ego is screaming to get back on track. This is the biggest rush I've had since I started in field. I finally get what Ryan means in his "let the game be beautiful" article. The only difference between AFC Chode I used to be and me right now is... This time I'm raw. I'm authentic.
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 I just read Jeffy's post on the importance of field reports. Most of the stuff I've written about these people before are in my paper journal, but Jeffy's talking about the value of online; so, without a real sense of adding value, here it is.

Tonight: I spent all day lazing around recovering from last night's super-woooo state antics. I slept in until noon, which by my watch says God was on to something when he talked about a day of rest. I started my fishing expeditions with the text messages and FB around 1 o'clock.

I facebook MostLikelyToShare some banter about getting married and she says she can't hang out until 9. I get a txt from English about coming over to watch a movie and I tell her to txt me after work. PUADropZone and PUABrothello both call me and I set up lunch at the local McDonald's to chill out. I haven't seen DropZone in 2 weeks, and it will be good to get his perspective of HBImage (I haven't put my post up on my catch-feelings emotional roller coaster that is HBImage; but she's my Blueprint woman. The first one I've found in 5 months, and she's got me twisted over. HARD)

Brothello reports some badass usage of the Amazing Sadness Opener at the clubs last night, and DropZone talks about total indifference to intimacy as being his key to getting over the whole 'don't bang subpar chicks' sticking point in my head. I'm really missing something about this whole disconnected sex thing. I seriously don't get it. Left Brothello to his own thing, and took off to the pad with DropZone.

English txts and says she's coming over with the movie. I was going to kick everyone out, but then I reconsidered since we were going to go the club anyway later and English is currently involved in a pseudo-cherish tongue-tie with PUAEmoDir. I figure I might as well let sleeping dogs lie with English b/c EmoDir decided he's out of the game and is being crazy possessive. He doesn't even know what he wants, but hey; She can come over, and I'll try not to do anything ungentleman-like. DropZone stays and everybody else splits.

We watch the movie... 'Big Fish' which really screwed me up emotionally because I don't deal well with death. Another thing I'm going to have to get over, because it sends me into a downward spiral of total emotional lamesauce. My boy PerfectChem calls and is dragging MostLikelyToShare, BBootsForWalkin, and PUAGotItMade with him to Candlelight. I told them Candlelight wasn't open anymore, but he was insistent, so I took a shower and got dressed anyway.

I kicked English out after a long snuggle session because I figured she can get hers from EmoDir. I started to roll out with DropZone to Candelight, and, lo and behold, it was closed. Told you guys. I'm the guy who knows what's going on in the club scene around here, remember?

They rolled to Yankee Doodle's and we meet up with them. There's nobody there, so we chatted up Bo the bouncer and he obliged with free drinks for the girls. I ordered a cosmo and went super-wooooo with storytelling and general banter. MostLikely and GotItMade are into each other since last night, so I didn't want to block. They'll be fine soon enough.

I left a video testimonial on MostLikely's camera, with PerfectChem making jokes and general hilarity. They split off to play pool so I hit up the bartender and paid more attention to BootsForWalking. Last Call, we migrated to crown. BNoPhoto txted me and told me to roll to sunset. I txted English, and, channelling RSDRyan, I said "You're super cute..." and she replied "Where did that come from?" I replied; "My heart". How chode of me. Whatever, it hit, and she decided to come meet me again.

Crown was dead, so I txted EmoDir told him to meet me there. I figured that EmoDir could use some love, and since English was really his girl, why not? Industry and Firechief are there, so we keep the vibe going. It's DEAD. After a few rackjacks to keep GotItMade honest, We roll to Sunset to meet up with BNoPhoto and BHouseOfWax (amongst others)

I did the walk-through and ran into BNoticeMe and hugged. HouseOfWax is trying to get my attention as I'm meeting all of the chodes who are AMOGging hard. One of the guys tried to blow me out as soon as I stepped in, but his $900 suit and cocky persian attitude holds nothing against me, since this is basically my house. He kept touching me hard and trying to introduce me to HouseOfWax who is now basically my BFF since 3 weeks ago.

I played mayor and congenially brushed his attempts to keep what he couldn't keep off onto the floor as he started to talk shit. I hugged and snuggled BPrivateNinja and turned on full ignore as soon as persian AMOGs started to gang up with the snarky comments. I didn't stay in set long enough for them to affect my reality, but I get a sense that I sure fucked up theirs. All this in a $8 Calvin Klein V-neck from Ross. There's certain perks to coming to the clubs every night and knowing all the girls.

I rolled through the next set to hug and snuggle NoPhoto and back inside. I tried some rapport stuff with BootsForWalking, but both of us know we weren't made for each other, so it was really an exercise in futility. Besides, I kept getting interrupted by everyone else, making it difficult to do anything of note.

I grabbed MostLikelyToShare out from under GotItMade's drunken soliloquy to have a cigarette. I don't know if it was my mood from the movie or my conglomerated stress over the last few days over HBImage, but I just started word-vomiting about my philosophy on life, love, fate, and relationships to MostLikelyToShare. She seemed to respond well, but at that point, I didn't care. I'm not going to blow out GotItMade... he's a cool cat, so I figured I'd set up a segue into some more tight emotional connection with MostLikelyToShare.

She stared blankly at me as I flooded her with David Deida-esque talk about spiritual wholeness and connection in sex, all the while nodding and trying to act like she knew what I was talking about. She tried to offer some advice about HBImage, but I think the whole conversation was really about her processing who I am without trying to look confused.

I finished her massive Long Island and so I'm now successfully drunk. On the way home, got to know GotItMade a bit more and now I want to blow him out even less. No new approaches tonight, but it was a Sunday night and very few targets anyway.

Tomorrow's goals: 1.MostLikelyToShare owes me a Day2. I don't care if GotItMade has his claws in, she's still single, and she owes me anyway. 2.HBImage needs to hang out with me. NO EXCUSES. The game with her is balls-on-the-block, tipping-at-the-edge, cherish-status game. It's crash or burn with this one.
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I've been working on plowing, with success coming only inch-by-painstaking inch

If there's anything that brings out my fears of what people think.. the thing that brings all that stifling outcome dependance to the forefront... it's non-entertainer converstation. I've been Mr. Entertainer for way too long. From the outside, I look great. Girls everywhere, Dancing, having a better time than you in the club. But in the end... something's missing.

These girls flock like moths to the brightest light in the room. When I'm up, They're here, fluttering around and vying for my attention, but when I'm not quite up, or quiet for a moment, or I get distracted, they flit away to anyone who's being more interesting at the time.

In the last 4 months in the game, I've successfully transformed myself from High Energy Chode to Mr. Entertainer. Guys would kill to be in my shoes with the amount and quality of women I surround myself with at the clubs. The promoters love me, because I can stack 10 girls in the line at the door. But at the end of the day... every single night (and I go out every single night)... I sleep alone. And what's the lowest common denominator? Me. Something is wrong with the way I develop these interactions. They call me up and expect me to be the life of the party, but I don't know how to be anything else.

All of my experience with intimacy comes from either driving into a relationship, or any number of situations where I feel like I'm taking advantage of them. Tyler says I'm supposed to re-frame my view on sex; as a way to cement a connection, or to blow off steam. As bad as I want to accept it, I'm so resisting that whole thing.

I made a sacrifice. So that I can have the necessary time to get good at this pickup stuff, I refuse to get into a committed, monogamous relationship until sometime in 2010. Every time I make a girl get those adoring eyes, every time they start to get interested, I've been self-sabotaging. If they state anything that pushes towards a relationship, they drop off my list as sexual candidates.

Targeting this problem specifically, I decided that the best answer is to find more girls. Instead of investing time, I just kept bouncing from girl to girl, getting number after number, like a walking billboard advertising my services. No substance, just an ad. I thought I was being productive, when what I was really doing was resisting the next step: going after rapport.

I figured out that I was afraid of connection. Once I made this realization, there I go again downward spiral. Me; self-elevated master of connection in intimacy, was afraid of connection. My core values are directed toward deep connection with people, but because I don't know how to go about it without generating a committed relationship, EVERYTHING went haywire.

I dropped back to the guy who's scared of depth. Who stops pushing because he's afraid of vulnerability. That's not me. So I scrapped all that. I'm damn good at being Mr. Future Husband. I've become good at being Mr. Entertainer. But now it's time to be Mr. There's Something About That Guy.

I had no clue where to start. There it is! RSD material to the rescue again. The next phase; Generate a routine that takes about 20 minutes from start to number close. Tweak it and Test it until it's solid. Creepy. I didn't want to learn how to plow. I didn't want to have a million dollar mouthpiece. I wanted my opener to fall into number close and for that to be that. But nobody connects without something to connect to, and that's where the hole is.

My first attempt at being Mr. Connection started with a 2-set of Aestheticians. HalfWing is sitting across from me, choding around, so I pulled the trigger, knowing that pain was to follow. I opened with "you guys gonna sit there all night, or are you gonna dance?" That works really well for me because it's super-congruent with my behavior in the club. Getting past all the one-liners, and the witty banter... I shift into interview mode, knowing that I'm gonna have to get through at least five minutes of fluff conversation to get them to start asking questions. I kick HalfWing's chair to try to get him to help me out... but he's not budging.

And here it comes. When the girls stop talking, everything tenses up. Without my trusty Mr. Entertainer tactics on my hip, all I can do is stammer out cold-reads based on what they're saying. Real-time live-fire shit comes out of my mouth, and I'm feeling stupider every time I say anything. I get the look of "why are you talking to us again?" and they girl-code each other every 30 seconds to see if they should GTFO.

My posture breaks, my voice wavers, and I solo-salsa around with gesturing hand movements. With each grueling moment, I can feel the interaction slipping away. I push and push and push, and finally, they do the touch-my-arm "We'll be back... we're gonna go get another drink" move, and I'm relieved to be done.

I crumple in the chair and berate HalfWing for being a tool and leaving me in a 2set without support. I was feeling super low and emotionally drained, but then something happened; They came back. For the first time, ever.... they went, got another drink, and came back to talk some more, just like they said. WHAT? Game on. Now that they're hooked, I've got new best friends. Number close, promise for meetups later in the week. I met up with them three times since, and they're coming over for dinner tomorrow.

My mind is reeling. Somehow, through all the painful inches of Captain Try-hard, I was able to generate a connection that hooked past the initial Mr. Entertainer wow factor, leading to a Day 2 at HalfWing's pad. How's that for new reference experiences? Armed with my new knowledge, but still emotionally exhausted, I still have a long way to go.
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