I'm coming to realize more and more that the core tenets of TRP behavior (Lifting, holding frame, agreeing and amplifying) have nothing to do with women--as they shouldn't. Because as we so often stress, women are not our mission. Our mission lies elsewhere, women are just nice to have along the way.
​
I have a friend who's a vocal instructor. Two days ago she held a sort of open mic in her backyard for her students--all adults, many of which had never once performed in their lives. The air in the room was a stark contrast to the last jamboree we threw for her boyfriend's birthday, which was a lively, raucous and overhwhelmingly crude joint mostly attended by mechanics who (like me) have the word selection of a sailor. As I stood up there to play some bass for the "house band" as we called it, I saw the silent, frightened faces of forty folks. I did what I had to do and decided to hold the frame I came in with; the same frame I wanted to project to these first timers to hopefully quell their fears and let them know it's all okay. I've been there. Performing your first few times in front of watchful eyes is tough--real tough. There's no easy way around it other than to get up there, fail a bunch, and keep on trying. So I projected the fun, carefree, joking--yet professional and attentive, as I was also in charge of any sound duties--man that I wanted to be.
It would have been very easy to slip into their frame--to feel awkward, nervous, quiet, shy. But no. It was actually a conscious decision I had to make. I remember thinking "Oh, this is a bit awkward, isn't it? Oh well, fuck it" and kept on going.
​
People were afraid to make a peep before, during and after performances, but I still wanted to chat with my friends and some of the girls there so I went ahead and did so. They all received me warmly--as they should have, there's no rule against talking during open mic--and were more than happy to joke around with me about whatever. I told some of them I made guacamole for the event but all the ingredients were actually pretty green and it just tasted like crap. I said I didn't want to have to go through the whole thing of people lying and saying "Oh it's good! Yeah, good job!" and me saying "No I know it's shit, it's really bad guacamole" so I decided to just not bring it. I opted for a six pack of Deschutes Fresh Squeezed instead, which is always a favorite.
As I said earlier, I wanted my frame to help people realize it's okay, but that didn't seem to happen to the crowd. To individuals, yes. Again, I guess there's no cure for performance anxiety other than the experience.
​
I figured I'd talk to everyone, why not? There was a 10 year old boy in a red hoodie playing Pokemon Omega Ruby and he was telling me how he was resetting to get a shiny Registeel. I asked him if he was soft resetting because hard resetting takes too long, and he informed that yes, of course he was (L+R +Start + Select) and that he had to look it up to find out. He said there's a 1 in 4000 chance of a shiny. I said "Back in my day, that was a 1 in 8000 chance, and I played those original games on the GBA when they first came out." He didn't seem to care. Boy could that kid talk my ear off about Pokemon. Before they left, his family said they'd never heard him talk so much.
Oh yes and there was the woman, too. We'll call her Kat. She was actually at the previous get-together that I mentioned above, but seeing as she was literally the only attractive, single woman in the whole place, and other guys were swarming around her like vultures, I decided to only talk to her very little. If we ended up next to each other, we'd chit chat, I'd tease her, give her shit, she'd laugh--those sorts of things. But the other single men were so clearly vying for her attention, trying to impress her with jokes, what have you--I was not going to behave like that.
So Kat was here at this shindig, too, and I figured she would be as she's the student of my friend. This time it was different. If the ratio wasn't 50/50, it was pretty close, favoring more women to men. This time I'd be able to run some more game on her and people would be distracted by the open mic shenanigans, too. I grabbed a seat off to the side and along she came. I told her I liked her pants and that they reminded me of a 90s RnB girl group like TLC or Salt n Pepa. She laughed and agreed. We joked around, laughed about how thick the air in the room was, those sorts of things. She got up to get some beer and leaves her bag lying there. I hold it up and raise my eyebrows to indicate "Hey don't you wanna take this shit with you?" and she shakes her head, saying she'll be back. Good sign. She gets back and I tell her I ingested all of her drugs in her purse so at least I won't end up pregnant now. She laughs and touches me. I tell her I pulled a muscle in my neck just a bit ago and she frowns and puts her hand on my neck, massaging it. Her hand is a cold, wet fish. I throw it off and say "Jesus woman that's not helping what are you trying to do give me a heart attack?" and she laughs. She's ecstatic to give me her number when I ask.
​
The party gets on. I withdraw from Kat and just go about hanging around, chatting with folks. I play bass in the house band for a woman who wanted to sing Black Sabbath's Paranoid. That was pretty fun. I told her she sounded exactly like Ozzy. Turns out her son is the pokemon kid, too.
​
Any time I look in Kat's direction I catch her looking at me. Consistently. Another good sign. I talk to other girls and sit and play piano while waiting for the bathroom and talk to girls while playing piano.
I get cold and decide to sit by the fire. It just so happens Kat is sitting near the fire, too. I set my red solo cup of water down and it burns a little bit, making a funnel. I show it to her and she says now it'll pour easier; so I lift it up, she opens her mouth and I try pouring it in. Something goes horribly wrong and it gets all over her face and all over her shirt and we're both laughing. She says "I'm soaking wet" and I say "Well that's not the first time I've heard that one..." and she's laughing, touching me, all that stuff.
​
I get up to go to the bathroom and there's a line, so I'm sitting there playing some boogie woogie piano while I wait. She plops down right next to me and starts wiggling around. I say "Do you have to go to the bathroom too?" and she says "Yeah. Can I go before you?" "No way! I got here first!" and I keep playing piano. A dude comes out of the bathroom and she stands up like she's gonna go in and I say "Nope I was here first!" and she's giggling. I come out and tell her I left the toilet seat up cause she's got a big ass.
The night comes to a close and there's one more song the house band is gonna play: Fucking Hallowed be thy Name by Iron Maiden. I sing the intro and the outro and the guitarist sings the verses. It was the most badass shit I've ever done with a band and we had never even rehearsed together--just practiced it solo. We were grinning the whole time we couldn't believe how much fun we were having.
We're all packing up and Kat tells me she's going to a bar nearby. I tell her to have fun (and I found out yesterday on our date (which went pretty well, we made out in my car and I got my mouth on her breasts, but no lay) that this got her hamster spinning pretty hard, wondering if I was actually attracted to her. Women are very, very strange, gentleman) and we all part ways.
Lying in bed that night I realized my one stupid, stupid mistake that I even made in my last field report: Why the fuck didn't I isolate and escalate? How could I make this mistake AGAIN? I could've just said anything like "Oh I gotta get something from my car, wanna come with?" and we would've been all over each other. I take solace in the fact that I was actually needed for most of the performers because I had to adjust levels on the mixer and do those sorts of things, so I sort of had to be *around* which is maybe why I didn't think to leave and get with her. But I also made the same mistake of thinking the phone number was the prize (fucking doy) instead of the woman. This will not happen a third time.
​
Go forth and hold frame. After experiencing this I feel almost untouchable, like I can get in front of a crowd of hundreds of people and just talk and be myself. I was lucky enough to not be the MC for the night, but I still played my part--and played it well.
Battagliare 5y ago
"Why the fuck didn't I isolate and escalate? How could I make this mistake AGAIN? "
Idk if its really related to post but i just wanted to say:
Dont go hard on yourself dude. More i experience this stuff and other mistakes at other aspects of life, more i realize that self-berating is useless. Because we are what we are, with our flaws, delusions and mistakes. One can only give himself the promise to try not to do the same mistake. Strive for better and accept your flaws.
oooKenshiooo 5y ago
Also.. you had a job to do. No women should come in between you and your job. Especially as a musician.
GirTheRobot 5y ago
I was being a bit hyperbolic :P But yeah, it all turned out fine or I wouldn't have gone out with her yesterday. Still thanks for the tip. It can be hard to remember.
TrueShadow97 5y ago
The important thing is to know your flaws and work on them, but not deride yourself about them. That's a big confidence killer.
TrueShadow97 5y ago
For those who might wonder how to achieve this ability to project frame like that during public performances, there are things such as intent projection and conscious reinterpretation. Before the performance, as you feel this anxiety before going up before the folks, convince yourself that this anxiety is in fact the sign that you are going big and you are ready for victory, and convince yourself that you're going to own this place, because if you can't make yourself think that way, you won't make others do so.
GirTheRobot 5y ago
Yep 100%. I still get performance anxiety if it's a big gig or if I'm just going up by myself with a guitar. I heard from the son of Roy Rogers that Roy would even throw up before going on stage.
But I find if I get to a gig and I feel that way, the best thing for me is to just start talking to people and joking around, projecting an air of "I got this, people are here to see me, they're going to love it" and it really helps. Get friendly with the sound guy, the barista, whoever. But for the love of God don't get inside your head.
It all goes away after the first song anyway :p
TrueShadow97 5y ago
Your detail about throwing up due to anxiety really piqued my interest.
Context: I'm currently serving in the Armed Forces of Ukraine through conscription, and at the end of the last year there was an attack on Ukrainian ships in the Sea of Azov. Due to this, our unit was switched to a full combat readiness mode. So they woke us up an hour before schedule, and before I knew what the hell happened, the guys were running around, packing our shit up, gathering weapons and armor, just so we'd be ready to move out in the fields at a single command. Amidst that chaos I contemplated on what could happen from then on: the conflict could escalate, they could send us to real fight, we might have fucking died, for realz. And for some reason I didn't kinda feel the anxiety (or so I thought), even though I knew full well my very life could be at risk. And then I felt the need to vomit, and almost did. I did then connect the dots, that urge being the way my anxiety manifested, but why didn't I feel it the way I expected still bugs me to this day.
And yeah, as you might know, that attack never developed into anything big. Our government just wanted to test out the way to postpone the elections which our president knows way too well he's not gonna win.
DownyGall 5y ago
That used to be the way I dealt with anxiety. It was my 'panic attack' if you will though I had definitely one actual panic attack. I can tell you I always felt intense relief after throwing up. I don't know the exact reason behind it, but it's a fairly common way to deal with stress/anxiety if you look it up online. It could be the release of vomiting. Anxiety can be coupled with nausea, but if you don't have anything in your stomach you can't feel nauseous.
oooKenshiooo 5y ago
I call fake. Bass players never get laid.
Sincerely yours,
A singer.
TheRealBrotherLouie 5y ago
You clearly haven't heared of Davie504 (the meme bass guy)
Of course, he has exceptional fingering skills ...
AltrumViritas 5y ago
That fits the story then, he did not get laid afterall.
HumanSockPuppet 5y ago
Lead guitarist and Red Pill co-founder here.
"Basscelibacy" is indeed a documented disorder. However, studies conducted in the field have shown that daily administration of the Red Pill is effective in combating this, as well as other celibacy disorders.
Unless you're a drummer.
[deleted]
strikethrough123 5y ago
Maybe they took your guacamole as a metaphor to why they shouldn’t perform because they thought they sucked.
bombastro 5y ago
Damn, your line of thought is sharp. That could very well be, and it kind of goes against his principle of "just doing it". In hindsight, a bad guacamole could have been a good way to get people to open up to each other.
Bielzabutt 5y ago
wait you told her, "I left the seat up because you got a big ass"???
how did that go over?
GirTheRobot 5y ago
She laughed (and so did the other guy in the room) and then she went into the bathroom. I don't know why I decided to change it in my story but my actual words were "you got a big butt" which is maybe a bit more playful and less crude than ass?
I said it with a smirk of course. And we had already been flirting a lot by this point.
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