Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
She calls you when her car breaks down. When she needs help moving. When some guy she's actually dating treats her badly.
You're the listener. The reliable one. The guy who would treat her so much better, if she'd just open her eyes.
She won't. You trained her to see you as the low-effort option — the friend who requires zero risk and zero investment. Every favor dug the hole deeper.
The "22 Rules" break the pattern. You'll stop auditioning for a role she already cast and become the man she chases instead. It starts with Rule 1.
Weird thing for me man was my first strip club experience. Back in 05.
That's amazing!! Your ex girlfriend became a stripper.
Did you know her during high school? If so, that wouldn't be a random pull of a stripper from a social media DM. I'm glad you enjoyed the ride on that one.
That sentence contains at least five follow-up questions she WANTS you to ask. Where in Florida? What brought you here? How long have you been in the area? What do you miss? How does it compare to here?
She handed them to you on a silver platter. And you said, "Oh cool. I come here every week. I love this band. Ummm... pretty crowded tonight."
She smiled politely. Nodded. And never texted you back.
I was that guy for years. Talking too much. Listening too little. Panicking about my next sentence while she was literally feeding me the answers.
Then I found 22 rules that fixed the whole thing. Rule number one: shut up and listen. She'll tell you exactly what to say.
it's possible if she likes your images. but they are going to be dating several at a time.
Starfish sex. No oral but sure wanted some. And no she received none.
No, we would have been in completely different social groups. She would have been the hot preppy chick, I was a full blown metal head. You know how it is with high school. We just had a few mutual Facebook friends so I added her and chatted her up.
I'm surprised you didn't have a class like Western Civilization, Chemistry, or US History with that girl who eventually became a stripper, then a former stripper, as a woman. That would have provided a passing familiarity.
It's all possible, but like I said different social groups thus we would have never socialized. Plus, I should have added that I left at 10th and came back at 12th grade. But still we would have been in the same graduating class.
You paid for dinner. You drove. You said "whatever you want is fine" every single time. All the effort, no expectations.
And she left anyway — probably for a guy who makes her pick up the pizza.
Painful. Also predictable. Her mind quietly concludes that anything requiring zero effort from her is worth exactly zero. You became a free sample, and free samples get taken for granted.
The 22 Rules flip the dynamic. Small shifts that get her investing effort, money, and time in you — until SHE'S the one afraid of losing YOU.
I got one off of Match.com several years ago. We hit of off well online. She happened to live out of state but was willing to come to my city for a first date. I took her out for drinks, and had her in my bed a few hours later. She would come down every other week and stay for the weekend so she could dance. Had a lot of fun but strippers live in different time zones and you end up sleeping very little.
Yeah, but I had to laugh when my ex told me she gave a lap dance to Arnold. She was one in California. So yeah I had that experience minus the time zone stuff. So unlike most I already pretty much have experience with this, as well as one other "hired gun" situation, hot chick paid for her looks to sell more beer to horny men.
I did in my twenties, on POF. She was in her early twenties from what I recall. We just had chemistry, she liked my sarcastic sense of humor. We F'd at a hotel she got prior to our date as she was staying with some people having just moved here.
Some are star fish
Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.
She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.
Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.
So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.
The words come later. The impression comes first.