Curry Homie
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- May 7, 2007
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Learning to Love
It’s been a year since I was left in a state of extreme emotional despair by The Ditz. Yet I cannot describe how much I owe her, for she motivated me to find the SoSuave website, which led me to Pook and his theories on women and self-improvement. These tips bettered my ability to interact with women, to the point where I was able to use my intelligence, compassion, wit, and newfound confidence to attract Frisco. Three months later, she too ended up leaving me a bit of a wreck, but after striking out yet again in this game of love, I ended up finding Tucker Max. Tucker taught me the principles of Assholism and Extreme Arrogance, both of which helped me gain even more confidence. Women went from being worshipped, to being neutral beings, to finally being worthless pieces of crap that I could manipulate and treat like trash at will. Ah the glory. Oh what power. I ran amok this past semester, flirting shamelessly, drinking recklessly, and becoming the social animal I always wanted. Yet this weekend, I experienced an entirely new level of game that I really didn’t know I could muster.
It started with showing up drunk to lunch on Thursday, which was my friend Curly’s birthday. She had a friend visiting, SugarCube, from Boston who was an absolute knockout. We’re talking, 9.5 easy. Perfect body, adorable face, and a carefree laugh that brightened the room. As opposed to what I would have done just a year ago, which was strike out instantly by either coming on too strong, being too perverse, or giving up before I even took the chance with her, I played it cool. Knowing the rules of the game is SO goddamn important. We ate, I harmlessly flirted with Curly, established myself as an Alpha Male, and gave off an air of indifference and perhaps even a cold shoulder toward SugarCube. Game on.
We drank later that night, where another friend of Curly’s – Pony – showed up. She had a great rack, mildly fun personality, and a decent face. 7.5. Continued to play the game by flirting with her and semi-ignoring SugarCube, who probably was not used to such a thing. Later found out she thought I hated her. Success. Made sexual conversation to establish repertoire and sexual tension to the room. Was working fine and managed to isolate Pony into the room next door where we were smoking and macking until I was forced to leave to see Spiderman. Which sucked by the way, so save your 9 bucks and rent Spidey 2 instead.
Friday night. Showtime. We leave to go to a bar a few minutes later, but as we get outside, I run into Kopp and his girl sitting on the bench. We start shooting the **** and laughing and having a grand little reunion when Sugar Cube wanders over to get me. She puts her arm around mine and walks off with me. Second IOI.
On the metro ride to the bar is when the real seduction begins. I start by giving her Style’s Cube Personality test, which she is completely into. We really start hitting it off and I start applying Kino. She reciprocates and is into it. Third IOI. Time to start upping the ante. On the way there, I start using a combination of depreciating humor (You really think you’re gonna get lucky tonight, but listen babe, I’m not gonna give it up that easy. You’re a bit too dumb for me.) She laughs along in an intelligent, as opposed to a ditzy stupid, manner and has a great sense of humor and humility. Perhaps there is more to this girl than I initially saw. I start making connections and delving into her personal life a bit more. She is completely comfortable and giggling and happy. We are having a grand old time.
At the club, the conversation continues. I keep her close to me, apart from the group. After quipping that her whiteness is a disability preventing her from dancing well (I’ll be honest, I can’t dance for **** either), we start doing the Lawnmower, the Shopping Cart, and the Matador. She is loving it and we are having a blast. However, another snag hits, as she then disappears with Curly upstairs to the dance floor. No matter, as I make my way up and start dancing with Big Homie and a few other friends. Sugar Cube and Curly are dancing apart at first, but quickly make their way over and we have a merry little band of dancers. After a half hour of this, it is time for the kill.
I invite her to have a cig with me, which she readily accepts. Holding her hand as we make our way down, our extensive conversation continues. Outside, we smoke a cig and keep talking, as each puff bringing us closer together. And here is where I deviate from the rulebook. Rather than continuing to run game and finding a way to close the deal with the player image I’d established, I took a chance and opened up to her a bit. I told her I didn’t think she was hot; she was a big cute goofball. She giggled and admitted she had been a nerd throughout high school, and still was involved in the Finance Club at her college. I told her about my nerdy adventures in high school, and the topic of past relationships came up. Playing up the image, I told her how I used to be a fat kid who didn’t play sports, have many friends, or any sort of real social life. A faux ruse which worked like a charm to fit into my story of the perfect, brilliant, model ex-girlfriend who made me the man I am today. She loved the story, and with each break as I pretended to be embarrassed about telling her this much about me, she would insist I continue. I wrapped it up with a “I can walk into any bar, pick up a number of hot chicks, and probably get laid that night. It turned me into a player, a guy who saw women as objects for sexual gratification. But after I realized what the FakeEx had done for me, I stopped. Now, I’m just looking for the right girl.” She responded by telling me about her ex-boyfriend, who she dated for 3 years and had dumped because he became a drug dealer. She recalled my questioning why she didn’t have a boyfriend from the previous night and answered with a “I don’t want to date just for the sake of having a boyfriend. I’m looking for something more.” FINISH HER!
I looked her in the eyes, put on my best shy and flirtatious face, and “admitted” I had a big crush on her. I told her how I initially thought she was just another pretty face with no depth, but how she had turned out to be one of the greatest girls I had met this year. She responded by telling me how she loved hanging out with me, how she thought I initially hated her, how she was disappointed and complained to Curly about how I hated her, and how she is so glad we met. We kissed for a while. After each kiss, she would get red and giggly, a la 9th grade romance. I would pretend to walk away, claiming that it was just going to hurt that much more to see her leave the next day if I kept kissing her. She would follow, and told me I was the most genuine and fun guy she had ever met. It was so young, so innocent, so cheesy.
I took stock of the situation and realized that I had managed to connect with her on a much deeper level than I had ever intended. She had literally managed to shatter my game with her genuine warmth, interest, and friendship. I had fallen for this girl. As immature and as unprofessional as this sounds, I allowed the game to beat me, too. She made me promise to visit her when I was in Boston over the summer, how she had an apartment with no one to share it with. I agreed, and will be seeing her mid-August, if all goes well. We walked inside, and I finished the seduction with a stern “Don’t tell anyone I have a soft side. No one has ever seen it, and you probably won’t again either.” She smiled warmly, agreed to keep it our little secret, and we sealed the bond with another kiss.
Then came the hitch. For the rest of the night, she was slightly awkward around me. Gone were the special smiles, the jokes, the laughter, the flirtation. There are two possibilities here. First, I ruined the moment by showing her a soft side. I misread the situation, should have stuck with the hardass attitude, and waited to expose the big marshmallow within the hard rock exterior. But there is another possibility here as well. It is possible that she was realizing how futile our little fling was. How the connection we were building was simply going to go to waste the next day. Perhaps she too was feeling what I was feeling… a sense of loss at what could have been. One of the last things she said to me was, “It sucks so much that I can’t take you back to Boston with me. We could have so much fun together.” Interesting stuff.
The end of the night was marked by yet another notable moment. When it was time to say our goodbyes, she and I embraced and shared a quick kiss. She again made me promise to come to Boston to visit her, at which point I reminded her that I was going to be in Boston for other reasons, but I’d surely stop by and see her for a bit. She then kissed me again and said, “I love you.” Perhaps this was simply a drunk girl saying something stupid. Mostly likely it was just a parting statement. But how she said it begs to differ. I have a feeling that there was just a hint of intention behind the statement. Just a hint of “this isn’t over just yet.” Being adept at reading girls and emotions, I find myself questioning whether, if I had just pushed a little harder, she would have come back with me.
FOCUS: How could I have improved my game in this situation to lead to sex close? Were there any mistakes, obvious or subtle, that I made in the seduction of Sugar Cube? Was my calculated risk of showing her my soft side rewarded or did it simply sentence me to be seen as a Beta?
It’s been a year since I was left in a state of extreme emotional despair by The Ditz. Yet I cannot describe how much I owe her, for she motivated me to find the SoSuave website, which led me to Pook and his theories on women and self-improvement. These tips bettered my ability to interact with women, to the point where I was able to use my intelligence, compassion, wit, and newfound confidence to attract Frisco. Three months later, she too ended up leaving me a bit of a wreck, but after striking out yet again in this game of love, I ended up finding Tucker Max. Tucker taught me the principles of Assholism and Extreme Arrogance, both of which helped me gain even more confidence. Women went from being worshipped, to being neutral beings, to finally being worthless pieces of crap that I could manipulate and treat like trash at will. Ah the glory. Oh what power. I ran amok this past semester, flirting shamelessly, drinking recklessly, and becoming the social animal I always wanted. Yet this weekend, I experienced an entirely new level of game that I really didn’t know I could muster.
It started with showing up drunk to lunch on Thursday, which was my friend Curly’s birthday. She had a friend visiting, SugarCube, from Boston who was an absolute knockout. We’re talking, 9.5 easy. Perfect body, adorable face, and a carefree laugh that brightened the room. As opposed to what I would have done just a year ago, which was strike out instantly by either coming on too strong, being too perverse, or giving up before I even took the chance with her, I played it cool. Knowing the rules of the game is SO goddamn important. We ate, I harmlessly flirted with Curly, established myself as an Alpha Male, and gave off an air of indifference and perhaps even a cold shoulder toward SugarCube. Game on.
We drank later that night, where another friend of Curly’s – Pony – showed up. She had a great rack, mildly fun personality, and a decent face. 7.5. Continued to play the game by flirting with her and semi-ignoring SugarCube, who probably was not used to such a thing. Later found out she thought I hated her. Success. Made sexual conversation to establish repertoire and sexual tension to the room. Was working fine and managed to isolate Pony into the room next door where we were smoking and macking until I was forced to leave to see Spiderman. Which sucked by the way, so save your 9 bucks and rent Spidey 2 instead.
Friday night. Showtime. We leave to go to a bar a few minutes later, but as we get outside, I run into Kopp and his girl sitting on the bench. We start shooting the **** and laughing and having a grand little reunion when Sugar Cube wanders over to get me. She puts her arm around mine and walks off with me. Second IOI.
On the metro ride to the bar is when the real seduction begins. I start by giving her Style’s Cube Personality test, which she is completely into. We really start hitting it off and I start applying Kino. She reciprocates and is into it. Third IOI. Time to start upping the ante. On the way there, I start using a combination of depreciating humor (You really think you’re gonna get lucky tonight, but listen babe, I’m not gonna give it up that easy. You’re a bit too dumb for me.) She laughs along in an intelligent, as opposed to a ditzy stupid, manner and has a great sense of humor and humility. Perhaps there is more to this girl than I initially saw. I start making connections and delving into her personal life a bit more. She is completely comfortable and giggling and happy. We are having a grand old time.
At the club, the conversation continues. I keep her close to me, apart from the group. After quipping that her whiteness is a disability preventing her from dancing well (I’ll be honest, I can’t dance for **** either), we start doing the Lawnmower, the Shopping Cart, and the Matador. She is loving it and we are having a blast. However, another snag hits, as she then disappears with Curly upstairs to the dance floor. No matter, as I make my way up and start dancing with Big Homie and a few other friends. Sugar Cube and Curly are dancing apart at first, but quickly make their way over and we have a merry little band of dancers. After a half hour of this, it is time for the kill.
I invite her to have a cig with me, which she readily accepts. Holding her hand as we make our way down, our extensive conversation continues. Outside, we smoke a cig and keep talking, as each puff bringing us closer together. And here is where I deviate from the rulebook. Rather than continuing to run game and finding a way to close the deal with the player image I’d established, I took a chance and opened up to her a bit. I told her I didn’t think she was hot; she was a big cute goofball. She giggled and admitted she had been a nerd throughout high school, and still was involved in the Finance Club at her college. I told her about my nerdy adventures in high school, and the topic of past relationships came up. Playing up the image, I told her how I used to be a fat kid who didn’t play sports, have many friends, or any sort of real social life. A faux ruse which worked like a charm to fit into my story of the perfect, brilliant, model ex-girlfriend who made me the man I am today. She loved the story, and with each break as I pretended to be embarrassed about telling her this much about me, she would insist I continue. I wrapped it up with a “I can walk into any bar, pick up a number of hot chicks, and probably get laid that night. It turned me into a player, a guy who saw women as objects for sexual gratification. But after I realized what the FakeEx had done for me, I stopped. Now, I’m just looking for the right girl.” She responded by telling me about her ex-boyfriend, who she dated for 3 years and had dumped because he became a drug dealer. She recalled my questioning why she didn’t have a boyfriend from the previous night and answered with a “I don’t want to date just for the sake of having a boyfriend. I’m looking for something more.” FINISH HER!
I looked her in the eyes, put on my best shy and flirtatious face, and “admitted” I had a big crush on her. I told her how I initially thought she was just another pretty face with no depth, but how she had turned out to be one of the greatest girls I had met this year. She responded by telling me how she loved hanging out with me, how she thought I initially hated her, how she was disappointed and complained to Curly about how I hated her, and how she is so glad we met. We kissed for a while. After each kiss, she would get red and giggly, a la 9th grade romance. I would pretend to walk away, claiming that it was just going to hurt that much more to see her leave the next day if I kept kissing her. She would follow, and told me I was the most genuine and fun guy she had ever met. It was so young, so innocent, so cheesy.
I took stock of the situation and realized that I had managed to connect with her on a much deeper level than I had ever intended. She had literally managed to shatter my game with her genuine warmth, interest, and friendship. I had fallen for this girl. As immature and as unprofessional as this sounds, I allowed the game to beat me, too. She made me promise to visit her when I was in Boston over the summer, how she had an apartment with no one to share it with. I agreed, and will be seeing her mid-August, if all goes well. We walked inside, and I finished the seduction with a stern “Don’t tell anyone I have a soft side. No one has ever seen it, and you probably won’t again either.” She smiled warmly, agreed to keep it our little secret, and we sealed the bond with another kiss.
Then came the hitch. For the rest of the night, she was slightly awkward around me. Gone were the special smiles, the jokes, the laughter, the flirtation. There are two possibilities here. First, I ruined the moment by showing her a soft side. I misread the situation, should have stuck with the hardass attitude, and waited to expose the big marshmallow within the hard rock exterior. But there is another possibility here as well. It is possible that she was realizing how futile our little fling was. How the connection we were building was simply going to go to waste the next day. Perhaps she too was feeling what I was feeling… a sense of loss at what could have been. One of the last things she said to me was, “It sucks so much that I can’t take you back to Boston with me. We could have so much fun together.” Interesting stuff.
The end of the night was marked by yet another notable moment. When it was time to say our goodbyes, she and I embraced and shared a quick kiss. She again made me promise to come to Boston to visit her, at which point I reminded her that I was going to be in Boston for other reasons, but I’d surely stop by and see her for a bit. She then kissed me again and said, “I love you.” Perhaps this was simply a drunk girl saying something stupid. Mostly likely it was just a parting statement. But how she said it begs to differ. I have a feeling that there was just a hint of intention behind the statement. Just a hint of “this isn’t over just yet.” Being adept at reading girls and emotions, I find myself questioning whether, if I had just pushed a little harder, she would have come back with me.
FOCUS: How could I have improved my game in this situation to lead to sex close? Were there any mistakes, obvious or subtle, that I made in the seduction of Sugar Cube? Was my calculated risk of showing her my soft side rewarded or did it simply sentence me to be seen as a Beta?