Back in 1995, I was a young, dumb, 23 year old. I had no clue how to “pick up” women. I had no idea what to say to them. I had no idea how to talk to them. I had had a relationship with a girl when I was 18 and she was also my first sexual encounter. She literally fell into my lap. She and I dated for about a year and a half. At the age of 21, I had my first one night stand. It was a case of me being “the right guy at the right place at the right time.” Even back then I at least knew when and how to keep my mouth shut.

Fast forward a couple of years and I had no idea what to say or do when it came to meeting new women. This was really before the internet took off and I sucked at “night game.” “Social circle game” was drying up, most of the women were either dating, married, or one or both of us just wasn’t interested.

So there I was, clueless, horny, and yes, fucking desperate. I had no idea what to do or really how to do it. Now there were “BBS” which were internet bulletin boards, but I had no idea about them. I didn’t know they even existed. Everything I saw as far as advertising and whatnot came from magazine ads or the television.

There were a lot of books and literature back then, that when I look at it now, it was utter trash. Complete garbage. But I read it anyway. It was something, anything, that I thought would help. Yeah it mostly didn’t.

I don’t remember how I found it, but in 1995 I found Ross Jefferies “Speed Seduction” course on cassette tape. Here was NLP, which I had studied and practiced in college, but it was being used for seduction. There were sound principles, great ideas, some clear, concise methods, and it was pretty straightforward.

Let’s just say that I loved it.

However… There are a lot of details and things that you need to understand and memorize. “Speed Seduction” is mostly language patterns and verbal. It doesn’t work great in a loud, obnoxious club. It doesn’t really work all that great on girls who are ADD to begin with and half drunk to boot. They need to be able to hear you and to focus on what you are saying in order for it to be effective. It works really great on “cerebral” girls, but not so much on your average girls. It can work wonders over the phone when you are talking to them or if you are in a quieter environment and you can keep their attention on you.

In the early 2000’s “The Game” and “Mystery Method” came out. I loved both of those books. In Mystery Method, here was a “system” that didn’t require a ton of memorization, it could and was designed for clubs and bars, and you could adapt it to “day game” or pretty much whatever “system” or “style” you prefer. I had far more “success” with the Mystery Method than any other “system” that was out there. That still holds true to this very day. What I do when I meet women is some sort of variant of Mystery Method. I don’t have a name for it other than, “This is what Rob Does.”

Which brings me to my point.

I spent years reading and rereading books, highlighting passages, making notes in the margins and on spiralbound notebooks. I have spent years watching and re-watching videos, VHS tapes, and DVD’s. I thought if I reread something just one more time, I would have the answers and I would just get it. Several years ago, I could pull Mystery Method off of my shelf and proudly show it to you with all of my highlights and notes. I could brag to you about how many fucking times I had read it. The truth is, when I go out and meet women for that first time, all that shit goes right out of my mind. I’m drawing a blank. Zip, zilch, zero, nothing, nadda. And I freeze.

And then I just start talking to her.

“Hi! You look like you’re fun! What’s your name?”

There’s my “opener.” Sometimes it’s not even that. Sometimes it’s “Hi! How are you doing today?” Sometimes it’s not even that. Sometimes it’s just “Hi!” and see where it goes. I’m open, I’m smiling, I’m friendly. That’s it. And I go from there. Yes guys, I fly by the seat of my pants, I wing it. And sometimes I get the girl, sometimes I don’t.

Guys if you want to get “good” at Game, you have to talk to girls. That’s it. End of story. Reading and rereading Rollo’s work or the Mystery Method, or No More Mister Nice Guy isn’t going to get you better at talking to girls. You have to go out of your house, outside your comfort zone, outside the internet for the most part, and actually talk to girls.

Reading or watching something for the first time is a good thing as far as I’m concerned. You didn’t know what you didn’t know. But reading or watching something for the third or fifth or hundredth time? You are avoiding doing the work, which is getting off of your ass and going out and talking to girls. It feels good, it feels productive. It feels like you are doing “something.” And you are. You are avoiding the inevitable. You are avoiding going out, talking to girls, and getting rejected.

You will only really learn Game by going out and doing Game. Sure you and I could sit on some chairs, smoke cigars, have a drink and wax poetic about how Rian said this, Rollo said that, Mystery did this, Style did that. But at the end of the day you and I are no closer to meeting girls. You have to go out and meet them. And while it could be entertaining to me to sit and wax on about Rian, Rich, Rollo, and Mystery, and I love what they have done and contributed, don’t get me wrong. I would rather go out and try things out on real women in real time and see what happens.

Going out and getting actual experience is a far better teacher than any reading, watching, or listening to someone else talk about it.

So when I see some guy saying he’s going to read Mystery Method for the umpteenth time and take more notes, all I can do is laugh, shake my head and think to myself, “Yeah, you don’t get it.”

While you are planning your big move into the “Seduction community” and you’re planning on becoming the next “Don Juan,” life has other plans for you. And while you were busy planning, life passed you by. So did god knows how many opportunities. But hey, if you want to read or watch something again and again? Knock yourself out.

You can find me out talking to women.

I want to start this post off with how I view seduction. I view it as a Dance. I offer her my hand, I am the Invitation. She can either accept my invitation or not. Here is a screenshot of a text that I sent “Amanda” on a dating app when I very first met her:

Now there are guys out there who will argue that getting a number from a woman first is better, or that giving her your number first is good, bad or otherwise. Honestly, I don’t care. Sometimes I ask women for their numbers, sometimes they give me their number without provocation, sometimes I give them mine and then I’ll wait and see what happens. Sometimes things happen, sometimes they don’t. This post isn’t about which is better, getting or giving a number, it’s about the Dance.

“Amanda” took my number and texted me back. She took a chance and took my hand and let me lead her into the Dance. It wasn’t an easy dance. Occasionally she would try and take the lead, sometimes she was dancing to her own tune instead of dancing with me. A lot of the time she stepped on my toes and it was funny, awkward, and a little painful. But we would start again.

Initially I started wondering, “Does this woman even know how to Dance? Has she ever Danced before?” As time went on I realized that she did indeed know how to Dance. She was just out of practice, “rusty.” It had been a long time since she Danced. I’m a very patient man, a very forgiving man. I get frustrated just like anyone else, I’m not perfect by any means. There comes a time where decisions have to be made though. Do you continue to dance with the person in front of you? Or is it time to thank them for their time, kiss their hand, say goodbye, and end the Dance.

My Dance with “Amanda” is done. She’s a willing enough partner and honestly she’s just a bit rusty is all. But there are other things that showed up recently that gave me the final piece of a puzzle that I didn’t even know I was looking for. It answered a question that I hadn’t asked or even thought of.

“Amanda” and I were talking the other day and out of the blue she said, “Talked to my new neighbor. Told her about my PTSD. I felt bad and started crying. Wasn’t seeking special attention.” Bullshit lady, that’s exactly what you were doing. In that moment, everything fell into place for me. She’s “that” person. I have no idea what her PTSD is about and nor do I really care. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure it’s something and my heart goes out to her. But it’s her problem to deal with, not go and talk to the neighbor and tell them basically, “Hey I have PTSD and so I need you and your 13 year old son, who are just moving in, to keep the noise down.”

This entire time that I have been Dancing with “Amanda,” things have been off and I created a fantasy about her. That’s my fault. I wanted her to not only be the “lonely, bitter Jew” but I wanted her to be the “lonely, bitter Jew who under the surface was a sensual, sexual woman, who was just waiting to be released.” I won’t be so egotistical as to say that I am the guy for that job, but I sure as hell wanted to try. I realize now that this was my fantasy, my projection. She’s not sensual or sexual seeking release, she’s just a “lonely, bitter Jew.” She was telling me the truth right out of the starting gate.

When she mentioned the conversation with the neighbor about her PTSD, it all fell into place. I knew what was going on now. I have been here before. She’s a victim. My ex-wife did the same thing. Everything was everybody else’s fault. It was never her fault and everybody better handle her with kid gloves and walk around on eggshells when dealing with her. Instead of dealing with her issues, it was the world that was crazy and messed up, not her. Her way of dealing with her issues was to blame others and avoid the issue as much as possible. “Amanda” does pretty much the same thing. She just has a better looking body than my ex-wife.

Thank you for the Dance, “Amanda,” but it has come to an end for me. I don’t want to Dance with you anymore. You want to waltz and do the foxtrot, which are fine dances and I did them both with you for a spell. I like to salsa though and sadly that’s not your speed or style, and that’s okay. I wonder if one day you’ll look into the mirror and see the common denominator about your world. If everyone else is the problem, if the entire world is insane and messed up, maybe you need to look closer to home. Maybe it’s you.

I can’t imagine why some guy hasn’t scooped you up and either LTR’d you or “wifed” you up. /sarcasm

I like women in general, but I really love women that know and love how to Dance. I like flirty banter and innuendo. I like plausible deniability. I like the “wink and the smile.” I like the tease. I like it when it’s “on.” I like it when she takes my hand, follows my lead and “leans into it.” It’s okay if she steps on my toes occasionally. She’s not perfect and neither am I. I’m not the World’s Greatest Dancer. I just like to Dance.

It might come true. Long live the King of Mercy. – Wasp

What was originally going to be a one shot post has turned into a 3 part series, and this is part 3. Part 2 is here.

I mentioned doing “Asshole Game” but dialed up to 11 in part 2. It’s this particular “thing” I want to discuss today. I mentioned in the title, “Be careful what you wish for…It might come true,” and here we are. Running “Asshole Game” isn’t hard for me. Asshole Game is being somewhat indifferent to the outcome when it comes to what happens with women and being somewhat a jerk, standoffish, etc. For me, “dialing it up to 11” is getting acidic and downright mean.

The problem for me with my “lonely bitter Jew” is that while she responds, and is still responding beautifully to my “Asshole Game,” I legitimately do not care. Somewhere the “switch” of caring for me, got flipped into the “off” position. I have gone from caring to one degree or another, to being completely indifferent.

I say and do shit with her simply to see what the outcome will be. I’m checking off boxes on my list of questions. It’s the “inner scientist” in me. I’m simply seeing what will happen but I’m completely indifferent to what happens. I don’t care.

And I don’t like looking in the mirror and seeing what I see.

This is the “Dark Side” of running this type of Game. This is what can happen if you want to be a “machine.” Guys, be careful what you wish for, it might come true. This girl, I’ll call her “Amanda,” wants an Asshole. It’s what she responds to. She’s getting it. This asshole doesn’t care. And I don’t like not caring. I feel like I’m losing a little piece of my humanity. Add my “inner sadist” into the equation and it’s complex. But that’s another story for another time possibly.

I have had my “switch” flipped a few times in my life. One of the more recent times was when the switch got flipped and I got divorced. I loved my ex-wife until I didn’t. One of the last women that I was with, it was the same way. Same now with “Amanda.” I wanted so much to care, to invest to a certain degree even, now? Nothing. The “switch” has been flipped to “off.” And I’m finding that I’m far more capable of cruelty than I thought I was. I don’t like it. I don’t like what I’m seeing and what I could possibly become.

Say what you will, but I don’t want to be a machine. I don’t want to think about what the depths of my cruelty and depravity can be. I’m waxing poetic about my own angst, fucking sue me.

Plot twist:

I had some of this discussion with BullRush after the latest Let ‘Em Burn. I was waxing poetically about my angst of possibly becoming a monster. He was the one that reminded me of what I had forgotten, and it was written by me, nonetheless. “Find one or two things about her that you find attractive.” The student has become the teacher.

Even I forget. Even I get lost. Even I can lose touch. Thank you BullRush. I was staring into an abyss of cruelty for the sake of cruelty and results. You pulled me back, by throwing my own words at me nonetheless. Thank you.

My biggest “angst” was the fact that the “switch” had been flipped to “off,” and I didn’t want it to be in that position. I would rather have it “on.” I want to enjoy the interaction, I want to enjoy her company. I want to enjoy it all. I’m not just looking for results. I don’t want to be a scientist watching a rat running a maze. I want to immerse myself in the moment, in the interaction. So I found one or two things about “Amanda” that I find attractive and “just like that,” the switch got thrown back into the “on” position. I see her humanity again. I see her.

I’m still running “Asshole Game” on her, make no mistake. It’s what she wants and what she ultimately responds to, but I care now about what I’m saying and doing. I’m “invested” to a certain degree and I can dial it back and still be able to look at myself in the mirror in the morning when I wake up.

Long live the King of Mercy.