FR - Another Saturday night

TL;DR - blew out a set I should have closed. Reflections below.

Aside: I start to type out vagina and autocorrect suggests vaginitis. Not googling that one, blue waffle has tainted my trust. Fuck you Internet.

Let’s set the players. There’s me obviously. Slim in clothes with decent muscle definition. 7-8 months of lifting has given me enough gains that I pick my wardrobe to accentuate it. I’m typically in the best or top 3 physical shape when I go out. (The competition has set the bar low enough to trip over it) Damn near always the best for my age bracket, which is a bit older than you young pups. There’s Gilly, who’s a low 30-something heavyset gal that is a regular in my local night scene. I’ve lightly gamed and teased her extensively, but haven’t been dry enough to go for the bang. She’s the type of heavy gal that makes you think man if you just lost weight you’d be pretty damn hot. There’s Samwell, another regular, who recently freed up his availability. Gilly is actively hunting Samwell now. Samwell is a chubby chaser, so those two will end up hooking up. There’s Target, who I’ve never seen around. She’s a solid 6 and easily a 7 in my tastes: mid-late 20s, short (couldn’t have been 5-3 in her boots), longish hair, slim with a few extra pounds, plenty of decent tattoos, glasses on a cute face with tasteful makeup.

It’s Saturday night without any kid responsibilities, so I’m going to get out and socialize and see what music is playing. First stop is my favorite watering hole. Great atmosphere, usually decent to great bands but tends to have limited vagina persons. I have considerable social proof here. Female bartender staff have both hooked me up and vouched for me. I’ve tipped them well and shot the shit for a year to earn that. The band was ok, not great. I could hear them miss chords and the singer dropped some lyrics. Zero interesting vagina people was the kicker. Wasn’t feeling the classic rock so I decide to bounce to another bar and check out who was playing there.

I head to a bar that’s under new management and going through a rebirth of sorts. Figured let’s check out this scene and see what’s up. Get there and it’s a country band. Not my style but I enjoy the country gals shaking their thing. Boots and tight jeans, why the fuck not. Decide to see what pans out here as there are some actual vagina people in the crowd.

Objectively, I am the man in the best physical shape in the place. Subjectively, Target is the most attractive gal in the place. I’m old enough to bang post-wall thirsty bitches when it suits me, so I have an eye for them as well. There’s some other gals rocking it out on Saturday night and looking good, yet Target has age and groove on them. How a woman moves on the dance floor gives away how well she fucks.

I order a whiskey on the rocks and get about 3/4 of a solo cup worth of whiskey. I’m both thinking fucking A score that’s awesome and holy shit that’s dangerous. I’ve been slow drinking since late afternoon (it’s 1030ish by now)so I’m buzzing but not to the point of being slurry. Set up at an open table. Scanning through the crowd I see a guy I know with a group and Gilly and Target with a different group. Take a quick drink and go over to the guy to say hellos and make some chitchat with the group he’s with. No targets with his group so I chat and bs for a bit before heading back to my base. Look around and find Gilly. Gilly and Samwell are set up by the pool table. Fuck it, wanted to shoot some pool anyway. I head over there and set up with them. Make my hellos and customary bsing and blah blah blah. I hit up Gilly with what’s the deal with her friend Target, does she like bald sexy dudes. I get the look and well she only dates mexicans (classic SMP disqualification to competition). Boom challenge accepted.

Target is off socializing and heads back to the group. I’m sitting on one side of Gilly, Samwell is on the other and I’m manspreading because fuck it’s my bar goddammit. Target steps on my foot (IoI #1). Plenty of room to miss me. I give her the wtf look and say “You stepped on my shoe”. She shoots back with “Most men would say excuse me” “Yeah (scoff). Most men are fucking pussies” flies out of my mouth. I like it when shit’s on autopilot. Round 1 goes to me.

Aside 2: it’s challenging to translate a conversation to simply words. There’s more than one level going on and the words aren’t that important.

She sits down beside me and it’s time to fluff and bs for a bit. No major tests, talk about pool and hear some shit about not playing pool in 10 years and how her dad taught her blah blah blah. Cool, whatever, we’re feeling each other out. I’m dropping some light teases and negs in the as we talk.

My turn to get up and I’m playing Gilly. It’s time to bring on the shit talk. I can shoot pool well enough to win more than I lose. Gilly and I have some history on the table and I’m hitting the smack talk hard. First time I have to sit back down, Target conveniently makes it back to our spot, sits In her stool and leans back into me. Literally half of her body is on me almost to the point where she’s cuddling into me. This is beyond just a whoops my arm is against you. I’m thinking it’s fucking game on now, shits in the bag already. I start teasing her about how she’s next and she better bring her A game if she wants a chance to win. She bites and we start going back and forth in good fun. I beat Gilly pretty easily and tell Target to rack em up.

Target and I shoot and I’m in the process of completely annihilating her (IoI #2, she shot pretty well after my game... oddly enough). Gets to where she still has 7 on the table (that means she’s hasn’t made a ball for you fuckers that don’t know) and I’m shooting a long 8ball shot from a bad angle for the win. I make the tricky shot to drop the 8 and scratch off an unanticipated bounce. I lost frame here and said god fucking dammit. She gives me some consoling bs and I growl and say nah it’s your table man, good game.

I’m a little peeved at this point as I take my pool as a semiserious hobby. Losing typically washes over me pretty quick, this time I got pissed because well you gotta beat the girl, plain and simple. Still, I get my shit back together and start bsing with Samwell and Gilly while Target plays her next game. Target comes back and continues to sit leaning into me and on me between her shots. I continue to fluff, tease and neg and it’s generally receptive. She stopped at one point earlier to hike up her pants and I continued to give her shit about getting a belt.

Up to this point, the story sounds like a shooting fish in a barrel seduction and I’m going home with an easy bang. Let’s go over what I have not done. At this point, we’re 30 plus minutes of hanging out, teasing and shooting the shit. I cannot tell you her name because I never did ask her. Went straight into asshole game when she stepped on my foot and didn’t let up. I also have done very little actual escalation and next to no kino. I’ve high fived and some low level shit, but I haven’t done anything more than that. The gal was leaning into me, it would have been nothing to put my arm around her and put my hand on her hip or to put my hand on her knee when her leg was already against me. This gal was completely in my space. I did not do any of that.

At this point, I haven’t escalated with actions and only mildly with words. Shortly after that she wanders off to socialize and dance. She comes back and sits a stool over. Pretty clear I’ve blown it by then. I’m left thinking I had this shit in the bag and that bag ripped the fuck open and fell out all over the floor. It’s time to exit my shitshow and salvage what I can of the evening.

The happy ending to the night was that an mltr had hit me up earlier that night. Got in touch with her when I decided to leave and got the bang there. Bittersweet as I knew I blew the strange bang.

Lessons learned or reinforced

1. Gal stepping on your foot can be a female opener. In retrospect, another time I had a gal step on my foot pretty obviously with the turnaround big smile. That one is devious enough that you have to admire it. Obviously you have to read the situation.
2. If you don’t escalate a woman’s advances, you blow it out hard. She’s not going to come out and say I think you’re hot unless she’s desperate or very drunk. I blew out hard on a set that was practically handed to me. This isn’t my first fuckup, and it won’t be my last. It made me a complete social retard to miss out on her signals.
3. It does not take a significant amount of effort to be top shelf. I put in 3-4 hours a week in the gym, an hour or so on meal prep Sunday for my lunches and good choices at the grocery store. I blow out the competition and I’m not one of those swole guys with years of gym time.
4. She’s waiting for you to walk through the door. All I had to do was look good walking in thanks to a year of losing weight and 8 months of lifting heavy. I had to pass a few tests at the beginning to get her receptive. Next thing I know I have a cute gal cuddling into me in public with almost zero effort on my part.

Opportunities

1. The obvious opportunity is to escalate and attack with judicious hesitation. I didn’t make my moves, so I lost a gal. My job is to continually apply pressure and move the situation towards my goals.
2. Drink less when I’m actively sarging. There’s a balance between going out for fun and going out for women. Fun and enjoyment should be your first goal, yet don’t get too drunk where you cannot execute when you decide to pursue your targets.
3. Toss in some comfort when appropriate. It was hard to convey how I pushed too hard on the teases and negs. The correct amount is sexy asshole. Overdo it and you’re just that jerk in the bar she tells her friends about the next day. I overdid it pushing the belt thing and some other teases. There’s a huge difference between a smiley “you’re mean” and a scoffing “ugh you’re mean”.

Action items and thoughts

1. Learn a few more of the PUA tricks and routines. I pulled off the esp game to good effect. They’re good in the right amounts as icebreakers and fillers.
2. Drink less if my plan is to sarge. I did think I want women tonight and still drank more than I should. Being too drunk fucks up my game.
3. There’s still some imposter syndrome or self doubt in me. I hesitated and didn’t win the match. I’ve won other matches and chalked up some W’s. This night showed me that this L was 100% my fault.
4. Expanding on 3, I have a buffer on girls that I identify as hitting all my buttons on what I like. I’m going to have to power through this one. My OI works great on gals outside my “ideal” gal with a few boxes open. It’s not so great when I run across a girl that checks of all my boxes.
5. I’m at the point where shit comes out of my mouth that a part of me doesn’t expect. I love it and it makes me laugh when I’m in the flow. I fight off shit tests, send out my own tests and have fun banter. I expect there will always be that little voice in my head that says “Nooooo don’t speak to the perfect snowflake like that...” that voice isn’t anywhere as loud as it used to be. Now it’s more of a cant believe I said that.

All in all, it was a great Saturday night. I had fun cutting it up with Target and got a bang elsewhere. I didn’t get the bang with Target I wanted. That’s both unfortunate and no big deal. I learned some things about my game and myself. I identified some shit that needs attention. I won’t get Target and I’ll accept that. I’m better armed to make the right plays to get the next Target that hits my buttons like this one did.