You asked her if she wanted to grab coffee. Then you asked if the time worked. Then you asked if the place was okay. Then you asked if she'd prefer tea.
Four questions. Four chances for her to say no. Four signals that you're terrified of making a decision.
Plan it. Pick the place. Pick the time. Tell her where to meet you. She'll either show up or she won't.
Either way, you look like a man instead of a scared little boy.
Most guys accidentally kill attraction before they even speak. They assume they need a bigger bank account, a better physique, or smoother lines. They miss the point.
Female desire operates on a specific set of psychological triggers. Break them, and you're invisible. Follow them, and you become magnetic.
I learned this the hard way. Years of freezing up. Getting friend-zoned. Watching other guys walk away with the girl I wanted. Then I discovered a set of 22 simple rules that rewired my entire approach.
Hey, I heard that people actually played instruments back then. Oh wait, they were considered "musicians" instead of "artists."Ken785 said:Thats because groups back then actually had talent.....i dont even consider rappers being "talented artists" they always talk about the same old things, money, fast cars with big rims, and women...most of them cant rhyme, except for maybe eminem.
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.
TyTe`EyEs said:Are you guys kidding me? Most 80's music was garbage.
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.
You were still swimming in your Dad's nutsac when good music died. You have no reference for being in this thread.TyTe`EyEs said:Are you guys kidding me? Most 80's music was garbage.
So what would you call good music?TyTe`EyEs said:Are you guys kidding me? Most 80's music was garbage.
YOU saw MOZART in concert?!?...you must be high.Wolf said:Well back in my day Mozart used to be pretty good, damn, I went to see him live in concerto a few times, tickets costed a FORTUNE though!... Good times, good times....
TyTe`EyEs said:Are you guys kidding me? Most 80's music was garbage.
You made your case like a lawyer. Stable job. Good guy. Ready for something real. All true. All irrelevant.
She weighed your points, nodded along, felt nothing — then fell hard for some tattooed bartender with a motorcycle and a gambling problem.
Logic is where attraction goes to die. The "22 Rules" work a level deeper, on the subconscious switches that decide within minutes whether you register as a MAN or as part of the furniture.
Stop presenting evidence. Start flipping switches.
You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.
Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.
She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.
Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.