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.
nypost.com
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.
I could talk to any woman I wasn't attracted to. Charming, funny, relaxed. Then a gorgeous woman looked my way and I'd become a sweating, babbling mess.
The fix took me years to find and ten minutes to learn. Nervousness and excitement are the same physical state — pounding heart, adrenaline, flushed face. Your brain just picks the label. And you can pick a better one.
Rule 16 shows you how. You feel the nerves, relabel them as excitement, and let that energy pour out as enthusiasm. Women notice the guy radiating it. They always do.
nypost.com
www.sosuave.net
I've never been to Hooters but, hypothetically speaking, if I did go, and they gave me an A-cup waitress, not only would I not tip, I'd be demanding a discount on the food/drinks. Like WTF?? Talk about bait and switch!
I don't blame vapid materialistic women as much as I blame thirsty simps who go to these types of establishments and leave massive tips.All law students here work at breastaurants, it's the foremost occupation for vapid materialistic women.
The first Hooters was in Clearwater, Florida. I went to school in Tampa in the 90s. The original restaurant was great. They probably had no idea how successful they would be as a chain, and the only way to be able to have them everywhere was to have lower standards.
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.
LMFAOOOO
I remember going to a Hooter's with an old work colleague of mine, and we couldn't believe how fat all the waitresses were.
You don't like the busty Japanese AV stars? Hikomi Tanaka is a hottie