THE FORUMS

December 6th, 2016
Glory in Miami! Stop reading this and do a boot-camp with Owen!
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Roark101

Roark101

Senior Member

Join Date: 11/19/2010 | Posts: 99

Hey, RSD nation. Whattup, fellas?

I’m gonna make this quick, but I must share the experience I had last week in Miami, on the alumni-only boot-camp. I’d fallen into some bad pickup habits: Go out, do safe approaches (fatties, oldies, chicks who look like my sister), MAYBE approach one hottie, get blown out, go home, feel like shite.

Rinse, wash, repeat. 

And in Miami, while I had a couple of good nights out, the same pattern emerged. Then, my pain body started howling. As Sat night approached, I had only made-out with one girl. Granted, a tall, luscious Italian-Puerto Rican girl, but still. I was failing to take enough action. 

Owen was running the boot-camp, along with Jeffy and Brad, two cool dudes who have forgotten more about pickup than most of us know. I was getting REALLY down on myself. I always try to bless the success of others, but newbies were pulling, getting BJ's on the beach (isn’t that a drink? “Blowjob on the beach”?), chatting up some hot girls. And all too often I was, scanning, wandering around the club, not approaching. I was being “a sauntering salmon,” in Jeffy Speak.

After several nights of half-hearted approaches, early Saturday -- the last night! -- I went to Owen and vented. 

Me: “I STILL have trouble getting momentum, doing enough sets, and having fun.”
Him: “You’re getting it. It takes time. Stick with the process.”
Me, skeptical as fuck: “OK, but I feel like I’ve been on a plateau for six months. If I don’t turn this around, I’m quitting the game. Time to step up, or go home. Limbo sucks.”
Him: “Stick close with me tonight.”

So, it’s Saturday night in Miami. I felt surprisingly free of expectations, because, it was the last night of a week-long program. If I haven’t gotten laid yet, I probably wasn’t gonna. That felt freeing. I also felt free for another reason. Unless I had a breakthrough, I told myself, time to throw in the towel, say, “No mas.”

At about 2am, Owen, two students and I hit the Fountainbleau hotel lobby, perhaps the best spot I’ve ever been for pickup (and I’ve gamed in London, Switzerland, San Diego, Vegas and New York). It’s spacious, filled with gorgeous girls; it’s quiet enough to have a conversation but still had a high-energy vibe.

Owen let us watch him get warmed up, admitting that his state totally sucked. He calls it “pie-in-the-face” night, in which he lets us witness repeated blow-outs, but also see how his state slowly spikes. He got CRUSHED at first, but he never let it hurt his sense of humor. My favorite image of the week is him in the Fountainbleau hallway, near the ladies' room; he walks up a pair of stunners and, while looking at us, puts two fingers to his temple and mock pulls the trigger. So funny. He KNEW he would get destroyed, but he did it anyway. Think about how ballsy that is. How many pickup "gurus" have the humility to WILLINGLY get destroyed over and over in front of the students. But he was teaching us a lesson: Blowouts are part of the process. There are no short cuts to state. No pills you can pop. You just have to keep going, and trust your mind to adjust. Little by little, his state amped up: 4, 5, 6, 7, 8...

Next lesson: “Come with me.” Owen led around the lobby to the bar area. “So much about pickup is being the person having fun, not LOOKING for fun.” He pointed to random people, challenging us to identify whether he/she/they were BEING the party or LOOKING for the party. “It’s subtle,” he said. “You don’t have to be dancing or be wasted to BE the party. Look at that girl...” He pointed to a blonde who was just chilling, relaxed, engaged in a conversation with her friends. “SHE’S the party.” Owen scanned the room. He saw a guy sitting by himself, swiveling his head every which way. “See him? He’s NOT the party. He’s looking for something better.” Point taken: Make your own fun. I recalled all the times I wandered aimlessly through a club, looking for my TARGET, in hopes she would LIKE me.

Just then, a light bulb switched on. The concepts of self-amusement and bringing the party -- two RSD fundamentals I've heard over and over -- crystallized for me. It happened when I watched Owen for about the 100th time that week. He approached two 8's with a mischievous, mad-scientist look on his face, and sort of ... POUNCED on them, but in a fun way. They ate it up. He opened entirely with VIBE and FUN. Next set, he walks up to some girls, rhythmically clapping his hands to the music, points to a girl and says with a dominant/fun tone, "YOU! Who are YOU?" 

“I think I just realized something," I told Owen. "When I approach, I'm very logical, safe -- I put out my hand and I'm almost giving the girl my resume: 'Hi, I'm a witty, cool New York guy, and you're a hot girl. You should like me. La la la...' But when YOU approach, it’s all about positive, happy, fun, DOMINANT energy. It's like you're radiating light and heat, and women want to bask in it. You're this force of nature." 

I realized two things: 1) I'd been approaching my approaching wrong. 2) Owen wasn't doing anything that you or I couldn't do. 

Owen agreed. "Exactly!" he said, using the analogy of a movie: my movie vs. her movie. “If you go in trying to impress her, you're trying to edge into HER movie. But you want to bring her into YOUR movie. YOU'RE the star, and your movie is so fucking cool, she'll want to be part of it." Owen knows my pickup struggles better than anyone, and I saw a lightbulb over his head now. "OK, let’s try something.” He pointed to a two-set walking our way. “Approach those girls with PURE energy and nonsense. No logic. Just total gibberish. Whatever enters your head. Go, go, go!”

I went in. It was uuuuugly. I don’t remember what I said. Something like, “Happy! Happy! Girls!” Massive blow-out. Explosion. We're talking Hiroshima, 1945. But after the sting of the "rejection," I felt my comfort level go up a notch or two. I went in with a 2 comfort level, and emerged with a 4-5. (On a scale of 1-10: 1 being totally stifled and in your head, 10 being in super-pimp state)

“Keep going,” Owen said. “Those three girls! Go! Just nonsense, no logic." I went in. I have red hair, and as I approached, the only thing that occurred was to point to my hair and shout, “Ginger! Ginger!” I pointed at one of the girls. “Blonde. Me Ginger, you blonde.” I felt like an ass, but she laughed. She kept walking, but she was... intrigued, if not attracted. Hmmmm. Best of all? It was kinda fun. My comfort amped up to a 6-7.  

“That was tighter, more natural,” Owen said. And he was right. Something clicked. I was getting looser. My energy was more dialed in, more congruent. This heat, this energy, was coming from within. My reality was growing stronger. Granted, this reality was saying, “I’m retarded.” But it was mine. Owen explained, “You’re making them react to YOU, not you react to THEM. When you go in safe and logical, hand out, ‘Hi, nice to meet you,’ you’re in their frame, their movie. Fuck that. Bring them into YOUR movie." 

I was getting it, and quickly, too. The best part? This was new. Improv meets inner game. Equal parts technique and mental shift. I recently began taking improv classes, and these two areas -- improv and pickup -- were converging. Pieces were falling into place. NOW I was understanding how girl after girl would fall in love with Owen in seconds. They were being swept away in his WHOOOOSH. Now, I was doing it, or starting to. 

I felt like a kid with a new toy. More sets. A few more blowouts, but I grew more congruent with this style, and my comfort level hit 7-8. Blowout. Blowout. Some attraction. Blowout. Attraction. Then... hook! I approached a girl named Brie, with super-cute bangs. Think Zooey Deschanel, from “500 Days of Summer.” Me, smiling, now in state, with full authority: “Hey! Stop! I’m a ginger.” Her, huge grin: “I LOVE gingers!” I picked her up and spun her (boot-camp physical game 101). Me: “Let’s have pale, invisible babies together...” We chatted, and I realized you can go in hard to suck them in, then downshift to more normal talk. In fact, it’s kinda weird to keep the hardcore turbo-improv frame for more than a minute or two. Once she hooks, just be normal. Brie LOVED me. Her arms were over my shoulders. She said, “You’re amazing, but I have to go with my friends.” I got her number. “You BETTER call me,” she said. "You're fun!" All within 90 seconds. 

Now, a 90-second phone number has an excellent chance of flaking, but who cares? I can't control that. It was a solid number close. 

More sets. More nonsense approaches. I was basically treating girls like they were my little niece. Sneak up on them, hug them, yell "Happy birthday." To a cute brunette with pouty lips, I said, “Me Tarzan! You jane.” Her: “My name’s Jayna! How’d you know?” Another hook, another phone number. 

I was FINALLY seeing what natural game, at its core, looked and felt like. (Sidenote: I was totally sober. Not a drop of booze.) Sure, some girls freaked out. One said, “Why don’t you walk up and say hi, like a normal person.” Haha. I wanted to tell her, “Sweetie, I’ve been trying that for months.”

I got three phone numbers within an hour. And many girls I didn't number-close reacted in a way I'd never seen before. I approached a young Tawny Kitaen who wore a painted-on black dress. Wow. She was walking into the club, and I opened with some silliness about being Irish, and that I needed a redhead like her to populate the world with an army of ginger babies. She liked me, but she escaped into the club. It felt great to spark that attraction, even when losing the girl.

Now, here’s where I ALMOST fucked everything up. It’s about 5am. The club's emptying. I think I’m done. Three phone numbers, tons of cuties love me, I’ve had an approach epiphany after a "dark night of the soul." I’m happy. I will NOT quit pickup, because for the first time in a long time, it was fun. Hard, but fun. Time to head home and chill out. 

But there are still tons of girls milling around. Owen sees me step off the gas. He can sense that I'm retreating into comfort mode, and he shoots me a look that says, “Don’t stop now!” He nods toward a girl-next-door cutie brunette. I go in. I don’t remember my opener, but it was something simple. “Hey, you’re cute.” And it blew wide open. Her name: Jasmine. She’s 22. A student. Adorable freckles on her nose, and she has a quick sense of humor. I was smitten. Completely smit-faced. We ALL love attractive girls, of course, but I love a smart-ass. We had an instant spark. Now, I’m 39, and I used to get insecure about big age differences, but I was in state, so I didn’t care. If it doesn't matter to you, it won't matter to her. I told her, “You’re 22? No way! I’m 39. That’s the PERFECT age to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” Hug. Lift and spin her. She loved it. It was on.

More chatting, hand-clasping, leading her to the restroom. I bite her neck, using Jeffy’s “I just saw ‘Twilight’ ” routine. I then gave her an eskimo kiss, leading into the full make-out (also from Jeffy's handbook). No resistance at all.

Now I screen for logistics, and I'm thinking, "OK, I'll pull her to a restaurant." Then, Lady Luck smiled. Turns out, Jasmine and I are staying at the SAME hotel on South Beach. At first, she doesn’t believe me, so I whip out my room key. And we give each other a look that says, “This is happening.” Assuming I don't fuck it up, that is.

The club’s closing. "OK, let's go," I say, and I take her hand. (Lead, lead, lead...) We head to the hotel. We'd been talking about Charlie Sheen’s week-long media self-immolation. Jasmine hadn't seen any of it. Time to "seed the pull," which I learned from Ryan on my first boot-camp. “Hey, my laptop’s in my room," I tell her. "You HAVE to see these Charlie Sheen clips.” Her: “Sure, OK.” We went back to my room.

But we never got to my laptop.

Phew! What a night. Soooo, my three biggest lessons: 

LESSON ONE: Fuck logical approaches. Go in and BE the party, no matter how retarded you feel. Once you overpower her reality, she’s in YOUR world, and she jumps through your hoops. And even getting blown-out is state-pumping and fun, because you're doing it on your terms. 
LESSON TWO: “Pull” when the club closes. This is something Alex stressed at Summit in Vegas. Just leave with the girl at closing time. You have to go anyway, so go somewhere together. The key is to lead, lead, lead, and that where you're doing is gonna be awesome, whether it’s a diner, another bar, or your hotel room to watch Charlie Sheen talk about Tiger blood and Adonis DNA.
LESSON THREE: And this is HUGE for me, and maybe for you, too. Beware that little, comfort-seeking voice in your head that says, "Hey, you had a good night. Time to turn in." ESPECIALLY when the club is closing, and girls are LEAVING ALONE. I was ready to call it a night, and I had perfectly good reasons to: I'd closed some quality numbers, had an approach breakthrough, so why not go get some sleep, right? But Owen pushing me into ONE LAST SET that led to a lay with a very cute, very cool girl. Oh, and did I mention that she's 22?!?! It would have been like a baseball team down one run in the bottom of the ninth and just hitting the showers, and not even taking their at-bats. FUCK comfort! Muzzle that little voice. Keep! Going! 

BONUS COMMENT: I say this as someone who's a student of the world, or I try to be. I've sought out a LOT of gurus in various areas, including pickup, athletics, cooking, dance and studying languages. And in my profession, I've had access to some of the most successful teachers/coaches in the world. So I can say with some authority that Owen is the smartest, humblest, most dedicated, most patient, most positive, most innovative and most EFFECTIVE teacher I’ve met, in ANY area. I'm NOT a fan boy. No one told me to write this. It's straight from my heart. Owen and his team has enriched my life in more ways than I can express, in areas that have nothing to do with pulling 22-year-olds. (But make no mistake: That was AWESOME.) He won't be doing boot-camps forever, so for any newbies reading this, I HIGHLY HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you take part in whatever RSD program you can afford. 

In fact, Owen is SO dynamic as a teacher that my biggest challenge now is believing in myself when I'm on my own. I remind myself that I can do this WITHOUT him ordering me around. Of course, I know that I can. I got my 22-year-old all on my own, thanks. I must simply take responsibility, and remember three simple words: I am enough. 

It's like that song by the group America. 

"Oz never did give nothin' to the Tin Man
That he didn't, didn't already have." 
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 "A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are built for." --Grace Murray Hooper
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#1
SnugglyBear

SnugglyBear

Senior Member

Join Date: 03/17/2010 | Posts: 101

Wowwwww dude, great report. Really enjoyed reading this. Jealous you got to spend the week in Miami. Grats on slammin the youngin.
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#2

Full_intent~

Trusted Member

Join Date: 03/28/2009 | Posts: 1261

Awesome this is what I am aiming towards. Doing 20 approaches today, all with the ''my movie vs her movie'' frame.
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#3
Roark101

Roark101

Senior Member

Join Date: 11/19/2010 | Posts: 99

Thanks for the kind words, guys. I actually just revised my first post, and added a few new observations/comments. And fixed some typos. 

And let me praise the post-boot-camp momentum, that should NOT go unmentioned. Last night, I was at a bowling alley, of all places, and I number-closed a cute Russian waitress, while a bunch of friends watched. The coolest part was not that I got her number; it was that the conversation just naturally started, and the number exchange happened totally organically. No nerves or weirdness or tension. A product of two things, I think: 1) BC momentum; 2) An abundance mindset that takes the pressure off of a given girl/set. 

THAT felt good. Little by little, this is becoming something I am, not something I do. 

Poice!!
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#4
jlaix

jlaix

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Join Date: 08/20/2006 | Posts: 8800

 It looks like you finally understand "DURRRR"

also this: "I wanted to tell her, “Sweetie, I’ve been trying that for months.”"

Eventually you will just actually say this shit and they will love it. I call it "going meta." It's the actual true realization of "i dont give a fuck." Like when I open with "good evening I'm a complete fucking scumbag" or say "I feel you appear attractive and consequently would love the opportunity to enhance your life by means of exposure to my awesomeness" or when I cut my hair with a switchblade when they tell me to get rid of my mullet. 

Sheer audacity, fully at the CAUSE of events in the environment, not at the EFFECT end. 
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#5
Roark101

Roark101

Senior Member

Join Date: 11/19/2010 | Posts: 99

 My next opener: "DURRRR. WINNING!" 
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 "A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are built for." --Grace Murray Hooper
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#6
GangsterTrippin

GangsterTrippin

Member

Join Date: 02/28/2011 | Posts: 79

going meta...iow not filtering thoughts from mind to mouth. just say wotever an flow. at same time escalte and lead an u win.
reason calculated "negs" sometimes works is they come across as being this exact behaviour. not cos of any lowerin her value bs. neggin happens naturally when u just flow and dont filter.
so never think about wot to say just "think say"
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#7
GangsterTrippin

GangsterTrippin

Member

Join Date: 02/28/2011 | Posts: 79

roark, y u approaching chicks who look like ur sister dude? ;)
cool report. love the movie metaphor.
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#8
Roark101

Roark101

Senior Member

Join Date: 11/19/2010 | Posts: 99

Jeffy speaketh the truth when he wrote: "Sheer audacity, fully at the CAUSE of events in the environment, not at the EFFECT end." Quick story to underscore Jeffy's point:

A couple months back, I was picked up by a female natural. That's right -- the female Owen Cook. I'm in NYC, heading out for some Day Game at an approach-friendly Starbucks. I'm walking through Union Square, and I can feel myself going deep into my head, projecting all this negative-future bullshit: "What if my approaches suck? What if the girls hate me? Blah blah blah..." Shitty, shitty stuff. I was totally out of the moment. 

Suddenly, like an angel from Heaven, this petite little pixie named Dani bounces up to me, sort of running in place. A Natalie Portman type, with dirty-blonde hair. She leans on my shoulder and falls into my arms, a big, goofy smile on her face. I was mesmerized. And confused. At first, I didn't get what was happening. I thought, "Wait. Who IS this? Do I know her? Is this an old friend?" Because she was COMPLETELY comfortable with herself and me. 

Turns out, Dani had approached me on behalf of her friend, a shy girl who stood a few feet away, rolling her eyes in embarrassment over her outgoing, totally-in-the-moment friend. Dani says, "YOU'RE hot. You have to meet my friend. I mean, I would TOTALLY do you, but I have a boyfriend. So come meet Amy." We all ended up hanging at the Museum of Sex, then getting a beer at a hotel bar. At one point, we walk by a mattress store, and Dani goes inside and climbs into a bed, saying she wants to take a nap. Just total fun and nonsense. Amy was nice, but I was WAY into Dani, who had a BF. I now wish I would have pushed that harder, because maybe she was testing me. But that's beside the point.

Now, after Miami, I realize what made her so attractive. She opened me with total audacity, comfort and fun, doing her goofy running-man dance. No calculation. Just... WHOOOOOSH! I was sucked in. She was a 7-8 in appearance, but her vibe and energy made her a total 10. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I was in awe. And I see that same awe in the girls Owen approaches. It's like he has a gravitational pull. Dani sure did.  She sucked me into her movie, and I would have followed her anywhere. It was enlightening, being on the receiving end of a pickup. 

I mention this because it's basically what Owen was teaching me Saturday nite: Be in the moment. Be the cause, not the effect. Bring her into YOUR movie. 
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#9
Paris Boum Boum

Paris Boum Boum

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Join Date: 04/02/2009 | Posts: 2948

Great, great write up. 
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#10
tycho!

tycho!

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Join Date: 06/07/2008 | Posts: 463

wow, stoked as hell. I have a tyler bootcamp coming up in seatle in june, im 100% stoked. You gave us some great lessons though, that we can use out into the field today, so thanks for taking out the time to write this
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