"How I Made Sure No Woman Ever Friend-Zoned Me Again"

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.

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Christian HB Flake Redux

bullmoose

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Not sure whether to post this on the end of the last one, or to start a new thread. Possibly Christian HB is psycho -- or I'm the luckiest guy on the planet. . ..

Aforementioned Christian HB IM’s me last night. They return this afternoon.

I told her I wasn’t sure if I could “just be friends” with her; the attraction was too strong (EDIT: someone PM'd me and dropped a nice line about chemical reactions vs. spiritual devotion; sorry, I forgot who it was but it worked GREAT) and that there was no way we'd be able to respect her vows. Better if we just end it now. She agreed.

But. . . she has a friend who wants to meet me.

Excerpt:

--

Bullmoose: So I should cancel the reservation for ----- (expensive restaurant where we had a furtive quickie in the men’s room; I’d made a reservation for tonight.)
CHB: OH, don’t cancel!!
Bullmoose: So, you’ll be there?
CHB: No, but my friend Asian HB8 (friend from Bible Study who’s on the trip with her) thinks your a hottie. You could have dinner. She’s been wanting meet you. (heartthrob emoticon)
Bullmoose: Much rather be with you.
CHB: Awww. Your such a sweetheart. (hug emoticon)
Bullmoose: Going once, going twice. . . .
CHB: I can’t go there baby. You and HB8 should hang. She's a smartie like you. (nerd emoticon)
CHB: (laughing emoticon)
Bullmoose: Sure, why not? -----, at 9. I look forward to meeting her.
CHB: Cool beans. Have fun.

--

I $#!+ thee not. "Have fun."

Conversation went on for another twenty minutes, blah blah, etc., Mexico's hot, how's the weather up there, whatever.

Is she psycho? I have the weird feeling that she’s collecting $50 a pop from her friends to hook them up with the ol' Bullmoose.

Or was this a $#!+ test and I just blew it?

Anyway, I have a date with AHB8 tonight. I'll let you know what happens.

I'm open to ideas on what the deal is, though. I can think of at least ten different motivations for this.

Deeper and deeper into uncharted waters. . . .
 

"She Made Her Decision Before You Finished Your Sentence"

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.

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bullmoose

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I haven't nailed anybody's mother since I was 17. And he still doesn't know about it.

Which reminds me, high school reunion coming up this summer. . . .
 

bullmoose

Don Juan
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Seemed like a legitimate date. She's funny, cute, kinda curvy, nice smile. Kept asking me all kinds of leading questions about my relationship with CHB that I simply avoided answering, offering instead a confident, tight-lipped smile. Kept it short, appetizer and a glass of wine, took her for a spin around the block in my hot rod -- CHB had told her about it, and she wanted to see it, so we took the long way back to her car. :cool:

So we'll see.
 
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