"Hey, rpquest. Pay up rent 3 months in advanced," what a nice way to start a day, landlady? C'mon, that's not even in the contract. It's B coming up the stairs, another tenant here. "Hey, B. You saw the family from yesterday?" B nodded and yeah'd. "Nothing. I just got told that their mum is a straight up payor." Nice shot, landlady, you might as well tell me I'm getting evicted if I don't bid higher. Is this even legal?

Alright, Mrs. Landlady. I'll work on it. "Yeah, you better do," and she doesn't even sound like she's scaring the shit out of me. It was an incomprehensible mixed tone of concern, condescension, and intimidation, you know the type. Those old fat ladies that are just so subtle and pin-point accurate in their condescension, you can't just flat-out tell others why they shouldn't like them.

Hey, at least I'm doing good at my first year in uni. The waiter-ing gig I got has also been paying pretty sweet. If I'm not working on my degree, I would've made that 3-month advance in 2 months. "Hey, rpquest. We hittin' the beach today! Let's pull!" This guy's Mr. Chad Quasi-Thundercock. In Red Pill terms, he's got 4 imaginary plates in rotation. One of his plates give awesome hand-jobs. Her name is Dominant Hand. "My treat!" "Alright, count me I'm in."

Broom-broom double-digit miles. Nice beach.

Nope.

Why am I hanging out with these guys again?

Quasi-Chad is friends with one of my professors. The leverage might be useful someday. So far, it wasn't. Fuck. I forgot my bank cards. I only have $49 in my wallet and I don't have a car. "Hey, Quasi-Chad, can I borrow some cash? Can I borrow your car?" Nope. Been there done that. I'll just get AMOG'd once we start trying to pull some bad bitches. "[Mocking Tone]Hey, Bad Bitch. I gave this rpquest guy cash for his drinks and food today." Then he'll buy Bad Bitch 10 drinks that could've been my food and rent for about a month.

I have never despised my environment like this before. Worst thing is how I know how shallow this is. Nope, I'm not feeling better telling things to myself. Substance over form.

The long romantic walk on the beach isn't helping. If anything, it's just making me feel tired. I wanted to punch these four guys in the face. But I couldn't. Because I think I'm Alpha when alone, but I was a Low SMV man in the real arena. Substance over form.

Hey, at least I have two plates. Or were they three? When did I last fuck them, that's right? I can't remember. When did Plate #2 last initiated contact, I dunno. Maybe she has forgotten me. I wasn't the Alpha Fuck. I was the finger substitute. Even dildos have better game than me because at least even though they're just tools, they're being kept to be used again.

"Hey, guys. Let's head back to the spot," everyone agreed to what I said. Damn it, I just want to eat. "Hey, Quasi-Chad Underling, gimme $5 for burgers." Alright, Quasi-Chad Underling, nice assist. You the real MVP. This burger's nice. Food is great. I'm now not starving.

Jesus, man. Hot showers are good. Damn it, they're great. I feel fresh. Why am I here again? What am I doing with my life? I'm wasting money and time here. I've no choice. Got to maintain friendship with Quasi-Chad for future use. At least this is prudent. I'm Dark Triad as fuck, brah. Tsss... Lame-ass forcing-to-praise-himself loser rpquest. I just need to endure this beach thing, and things will start rolling back to normal.

I remember, "Hey, rpquest. We hittin' the beach today! Let's pull!"

That's right, I can practice approaching some broads here. I'll take one for the boys at TRP. "Hey, you guys. I'mma go outside and take strolls." Whoa. I'm surprised these guys didn't even try to stop me. And earlier they be like, "Hey, rpquest. Let's do this. Let's do that. Let's pull bad bitches together."

Day game. Sun is up game on. Whoa, this girl's got some nice sexy back. Also, she's alone. I can try to approach this one. Typing this one sounds like some sexual predator doing its thing. Damn, it. Don't lie to me, we know we're more confident approaching lone women than a group. Nice long walk at the beach side.

Opener fundamentals: (1) Walk past the target, then shoot your opener through your back, as if some thought just hit you up all of a sudden. (2) Make the opener something innocent. An opener is just that, an opener.

Alright, Ms. Sexy Back is way younger from a far, way, way younger. Damn it, if I can fuck this one, I'm cool. She's sort of a MILF anyway. "Hey, uh, I'm just new on public beaches, so I've no idea how this works. Do you pay for those seats or you just take 'em for free?"

"Excuse me, what?" "I'm just new hear so I don't know if I should pay for those seats on the beach side if I want one." "Oh, you have to pay for them." "To?" "To the owner," she shrugged and laughed a little. Not a giggle. Nope, not the IOI-type.

Somehow, the fact that we're already walking at the same pace is pretty comfortable -- for lack of a better word -- for my current approach. Get to know her, this that. She never asked my name. I'm not gonna ask hers. If based on pure instincts alone, on a scale of -10 to +10, representing disinterested to fuck-me-now-in-broad-daylight, she's on a +1, in other words, somehow just polite, but still kind of friendly.

"Oh!" this MILF-bodied woman remembered something, "I've already walked past my hotel." "Oh," I kept walking along with her, "Alright, let's see it." "No, sorry. I'm sort of in a hurry." "Alright, nice to meet ya. What was your name again?" She answered, I forgot what it was. Doesn't matter by this point in terms of pulling bad MILF's. Shake hands. "Alright, see you later," she didn't ask my name. "See you later," was her automatic follow up when saying good-bye's.

It took me a few minutes to realize that she was rejecting. But damn, it was so smooth, my ego wasn't even brushed in the least.

There's a pretty nice open bar over there. The sun is high, but hey, I can drink just because I want to. Just a few minutes in, I'm having a pretty enjoyable conversation with the male bartender. We kept going and going, even his assistant was becoming absorbed. This isn't the alcohol, I'm really like this. In fact, my awareness of the alcohol makes me hold myself back; I don't wanna look like one of those guys that were know-it-all's with alcohol-given knowledge and non-charisma. I was drinking by the open bar, I look at girls. But it was so subtle, I might as well say that I'm not. Of those girls, the one's that I go out of my way to ignore as they pass by with their overrated bodies and faces, were the ones going out of their way to put themselves in my ocular periphery. Yes, this game exists between the stranger masculine and the stranger feminine.

It was unbelievable, the approach to MILF pulled the matchstick from the case. With this really great conversation I'm having with the bartender and his assistant, the matchstick is now facing the wick. I told the bartender things I know about the industry. What I know about drinks, and my fondness for the art. This might sound masturbatory but the scenario is working well, not just for me but for all of us. The bartender was absorbed in the conversation, he was letting me into his life. I was asking him and his assistant about things that take place here in this open bar. He pulled one here a few months or weeks ago. His status isn't very high. This isn't like how Japan revere their sushi chefs. Bartenders here, if you're a guy, is well, just a preparer of drinks. I was on my second drink, and more girls were walking by. "Oh, I should try this next drink. I've been looking for a really great mix of this in many places." Hey, hey, rpquest, remember that study where guys tend to spend more in the presence of pretty girls, or at least, the particular guy in question's type of women, regardless of whether it's for them or for the girl(s)? That's right, that's what's happening to your brain right now. And I noticed my hand already above the menu, just a few centimeters away from pointing a word there. Alright, I'm keeping this for later. Getting along with this bartender guy and his assistant is really great. Obviously, I could use it to leverage for later, but damn, that moment of just getting along with people in genera was enough to make me feel pretty nice. "Alright, bartender," I reached an open palm over the counter, "I'mma go now. I'll see how this drink will work later." We shook hands, firm and respecting, "I'm Dave." "I'm rpquest." "Thank you so much, rpquest. Please come again." "Yeah, will do."

"Oh, I almost forgot," "What is it?" Dave and his assistant were confused. "My tab. Here's my payment. You guys don't take tips, right?" I noticed this when he returned massive loads of cash to the other customer from afar. "Yeah, we have flat rate tips here." "If I forgot this, it would've looked like I conned you guys. Damn that, eh." "Hah, yeah. It would've."

Alright, guys. I now only have a few dollars left. I'll go for some workouts and I'll update you soon.