"The Coffee Shop Girl You Never Spoke To"

You've replayed it a hundred times. She stood three feet away, scrolling her phone. You had an opening. You composed the perfect line — after she was gone.

For all you know, she's married now. To some guy who said something. Anything.

Openers are cheap. Almost any sentence works when it's delivered within three seconds. The expensive part is the standing there, drafting and deleting, while the window quietly closes.

The "22 Rules" stripped out my hesitation. What to open with, how to keep it alive, and the one habit that costs guys more women than anything else: waiting for perfect.

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Female roomate yay/nay

Tonypencil

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So this is definately my first time here, i.e disregard any sort of diregard I demonstrate to presumably well-established forum faux-pas'. Also you should be fore-warned that I tend to be long winded and thorough as far as my writing style goes.

Alrite, with that out of the way, I ought introduce mine self; I'm 22, male, and in my fourth year of post-secondary study. Many of my friends have graduated, and thusly I find myself living in a 8 person domicile with one really good friend and 6 practical stangers who also happen to be attractive females.

One such female is what I have decidedly dubbed as a mysterious and unknown creature, at least to the likes of me, a self-dubbed journeyman of female interaction. I also happen to have a one-sided history with this girl in that I have witnessed her presence at popular watering holes and have taken quite a liking to her physical appearance. In short, she is like 5'9, blonde, too well endowed for her own good, and has a seductive look about her that causes my stomach to imitate an astronauts at t-minus zero point five to launch.

Prior to moving in at the beginning of September, I had not spoken more than one full sentence to this fine lady, yet since then have found myself on some sort of a path of discovery into a new version of social confusion that I thought I had left back in high school. Now before we progress into the actual events that have me posting at an online forum, I want to express that I am by no means a novice in the department of relationships, or for the purpose of this situation; guaging female intentions. I'll also mention that just prior to her moving in I had done some research amongst friends that knew her better than I. This investigation did bear two fruits; that she has a reputation as somewhat of a ... non-monogamous lady, and also the knowledge that through my prying I have made my feelings for this woman a well documented fact amongst the community.

So anyways, she has a long distance boyfriend that after some slight facebook research, I can confidently say he has a slight edge in the attractiveness department over me; something which I assume is a valuable asset in procuring the kind of woman I had already assumed she was from our initial encounters. Regardless, I decide to advance her bar-crush status to full blown lust monger status despite the fact I am somewhat casually involved in a long distance relationship with a very nice girl that moved two hours away after herself graduating.

So I'm going to skip over some of the more mundane details to about a weekend ago, Saturday, sept. 19th to be exact. On this particular night, my house of two guys and 6 girls were taking part in a collegiate celebration ritual in the form of the consumption of alcoholic beverages. With little happening within the confines of our own humble abode, we ventured forth to the happening location of a toga party, and it being a bust- to another firends house. After a few rounds of beer pong, and the clock advancing beyond the point of typical end game, our party became divided between those seeking a place to call it a night and those seeking further entertainment. Myself, the girl in question, two other girls, and my non-roomate friend continued to partake in misadventures. We walked across campus making several stops, and it was at this point I experienced my first non-subtle cue that this lady may have either some sort of uninitiated interest in me, or had heard of my interest in her- taking it upon herself to commence some good 'ol mind games.

So you know those kind of looks that a female can give you that oozes of subtlety yet deep down you know that there is some sort of maening to extract from it? Well the looks she was giving me were nothing like that, and could only be likened to some sort of ocular hand-job. Her pornstar glances were melting me where I set everywhere we went that night. The night advanced, and on the way home, about a twenty minute walk, somehow her hand found its way to mine, and amidst hand-holding there were definate traces of sensual caressing in the area between my thumb and pointing finger.

When we got home the five of us sat in our living room and watched about 3 hours worth of what i think was True Blood. I say that with doubt because the entire time my mind was self-engulfed in some sort of pink cloud of adoration, as sex-gazes and toying caresses continued. I felt myself wishing my dear friends who crowded the room with their now unwanted presence would somehow jettison themselves, violently if necessary, from the room like some sort of simultaneous and massive outdoor blackhole scenario. This ideal situation did not occur, and I found myself colapsing in my bed at 6 am alone, naturally.

The half-week that followed led to further physical contact iniated by this perculiar woman, often when the room could be described as the antithesis of private. This usually involved her persistance to always take a seat in the room right next me, close enough that our legs were always touching, when there were quite possibly 84 other possible locations for a sit down within our living room. She was constantly asking me to "tickle her arm" which equivocates in her private vernacular to slowly and slightly moving two of my fingers from her hand to just above her elbow.

Wednesday came, an official pub night where I live, and a bunch of us, her included, ventured to the campus pub for some refreshments. It was one of my female friends' birthday, and such was my motivation for allocating funds I didn't have into thursday morning headaches that I didn't need. When we arrived the line was far too long for comfort, and we waited there for about half an hour, before the girl and another of my female roomates left for greener (or at least more accessable ones) I was of course a bit disheartened, as i wished to see where things were heading, but with a birthday appearance obligation in tote, I remained in line. 15 minutes later, my birthday friend exited the bar, being supported solely by the collective efforts of her coven, and with that my drinking motivation had just gone AWOL. Shortly after that I headed home, leaving my only remaining friend to bask in the now fruitless pub.

When I returned home, I found the female I desire, the other girl roomate we originally embarked with, and her boyfriend. We engaged in some leisurely smoking in leiu of a failed boozing night, and eventually i was left with a two hour window where no one would be home/awake except for percieved dreamgirl, and myself. I began to give her one of those lame arm massages that she was constantly requesting, while I feigned interest in the blu-ray we had chosen, playing it cool as the cliched people would remark. As I grew less sober, my fingerstrokes on her skin grew more bold and it began to be more of a full arm rub, which is still kind of weak. She began repositioning herself for more intimate areas to be accessable, first her back face me for the shoulder areas, then eventually grabbing a pillow as to lay head on my lap. At this point I remember doubting whether or not my full on massage was getting the point across with enough effectiveness that it was to be clear that this was no longer just a massage. with that notion, I began getting really elaborate with my hands, adding pressure at sensitive areas, and making brish strokes blantantly transform into deep rubs. She responded to this with was was unmistakabley moans of pleasure. Before too long she turned her body across my lap opposite of the television, breaking an sort of illuion that we were actually focusing on anything except for the sensual moment that was happening at that moment. We held eye contact as I maintained a steady effort at preserving a pleasurable massage. I now moved my caresses to her face, brushing away her hair, and pausing on her cheek. At this point I found myself doubting whther or not to initiate any sort of serious intamacy, and I probably regret that in retrospect. Before long, my guy roomate returned from the pub, and she quickly vacated the room in a percieved reactionary fashion, myself left in a state of both nirvana and frustration.

After this encounter I decided to start subtely discussing the events of saturday and wednesday with my best friend, in an attempt to gain some clarity in the situation, as both times I had experienced strong attraction between us, I had not necessarily been in a rational state. He expressed concern, much like I had already been in possession of, that she was perhaps leading me on either for her own entertainment, for the sake of some sort of exploitation of my resources, or simply by drunken accident. Either way, relations between roomates can be a delicate scenario, and as such I intend to proceed with caution.

This Friday past, a situation much like the massage occured again, though my memory has very much faded on me due to severe alcoholism. I do remember vaguely her removing her shirt down to the sportsbra she had changed into upon returning home.and the massage being just as intimate, except with the benifet of being across a more exposed area of skin.

Some days have passed since then, and several of my female roomate have expressed concern that I may be on the recieving end of some sort of female manipulation; which is not something I either tolerate or have extensive experience in identifying.
 

"I just moved here from Florida."

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.

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Tonypencil

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So basically it boils down to whether her renown as a seductress, possible exterior observations that result in negative conclusion, and general insecurity on my behalf at all out-weighs what I have percieved as extremely intimate situations in my decision to take this thing at all seriously. I mean I literally can't stop thinking about this girl, which of course is the effect that a manipulatingly beautiful woman would have on me right?

I mean, just looking at the sequence of events it has to look like this girl is into me at least a bit. Am I super paranoid to take both my own doubts and my friends suggestions so seriously, or am I setting myself up for some sort of long-term disappointment in pursuing further action from this vixen?
 

Hidden-Hand

Don Juan
Joined
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Shagri-la
Tonypencil said:
So this is definately my first time here, i.e disregard any sort of diregard I demonstrate to presumably well-established forum faux-pas'. Also you should be fore-warned that I tend to be long winded and thorough as far as my writing style goes.

Alrite, with that out of the way, I ought introduce mine self; I'm 22, male, and in my fourth year of post-secondary study. Many of my friends have graduated, and thusly I find myself living in a 8 person domicile with one really good friend and 6 practical stangers who also happen to be attractive females.

One such female is what I have decidedly dubbed as a mysterious and unknown creature, at least to the likes of me, a self-dubbed journeyman of female interaction. I also happen to have a one-sided history with this girl in that I have witnessed her presence at popular watering holes and have taken quite a liking to her physical appearance. In short, she is like 5'9, blonde, too well endowed for her own good, and has a seductive look about her that causes my stomach to imitate an astronauts at t-minus zero point five to launch.

Prior to moving in at the beginning of September, I had not spoken more than one full sentence to this fine lady, yet since then have found myself on some sort of a path of discovery into a new version of social confusion that I thought I had left back in high school. Now before we progress into the actual events that have me posting at an online forum, I want to express that I am by no means a novice in the department of relationships, or for the purpose of this situation; guaging female intentions. I'll also mention that just prior to her moving in I had done some research amongst friends that knew her better than I. This investigation did bear two fruits; that she has a reputation as somewhat of a ... non-monogamous lady, and also the knowledge that through my prying I have made my feelings for this woman a well documented fact amongst the community.

So anyways, she has a long distance boyfriend that after some slight facebook research, I can confidently say he has a slight edge in the attractiveness department over me; something which I assume is a valuable asset in procuring the kind of woman I had already assumed she was from our initial encounters. Regardless, I decide to advance her bar-crush status to full blown lust monger status despite the fact I am somewhat casually involved in a long distance relationship with a very nice girl that moved two hours away after herself graduating.

So I'm going to skip over some of the more mundane details to about a weekend ago, Saturday, sept. 19th to be exact. On this particular night, my house of two guys and 6 girls were taking part in a collegiate celebration ritual in the form of the consumption of alcoholic beverages. With little happening within the confines of our own humble abode, we ventured forth to the happening location of a toga party, and it being a bust- to another firends house. After a few rounds of beer pong, and the clock advancing beyond the point of typical end game, our party became divided between those seeking a place to call it a night and those seeking further entertainment. Myself, the girl in question, two other girls, and my non-roomate friend continued to partake in misadventures. We walked across campus making several stops, and it was at this point I experienced my first non-subtle cue that this lady may have either some sort of uninitiated interest in me, or had heard of my interest in her- taking it upon herself to commence some good 'ol mind games.

So you know those kind of looks that a female can give you that oozes of subtlety yet deep down you know that there is some sort of maening to extract from it? Well the looks she was giving me were nothing like that, and could only be likened to some sort of ocular hand-job. Her pornstar glances were melting me where I set everywhere we went that night. The night advanced, and on the way home, about a twenty minute walk, somehow her hand found its way to mine, and amidst hand-holding there were definate traces of sensual caressing in the area between my thumb and pointing finger.

When we got home the five of us sat in our living room and watched about 3 hours worth of what i think was True Blood. I say that with doubt because the entire time my mind was self-engulfed in some sort of pink cloud of adoration, as sex-gazes and toying caresses continued. I felt myself wishing my dear friends who crowded the room with their now unwanted presence would somehow jettison themselves, violently if necessary, from the room like some sort of simultaneous and massive outdoor blackhole scenario. This ideal situation did not occur, and I found myself colapsing in my bed at 6 am alone, naturally.

The half-week that followed led to further physical contact iniated by this perculiar woman, often when the room could be described as the antithesis of private. This usually involved her persistance to always take a seat in the room right next me, close enough that our legs were always touching, when there were quite possibly 84 other possible locations for a sit down within our living room. She was constantly asking me to "tickle her arm" which equivocates in her private vernacular to slowly and slightly moving two of my fingers from her hand to just above her elbow.

Wednesday came, an official pub night where I live, and a bunch of us, her included, ventured to the campus pub for some refreshments. It was one of my female friends' birthday, and such was my motivation for allocating funds I didn't have into thursday morning headaches that I didn't need. When we arrived the line was far too long for comfort, and we waited there for about half an hour, before the girl and another of my female roomates left for greener (or at least more accessable ones) I was of course a bit disheartened, as i wished to see where things were heading, but with a birthday appearance obligation in tote, I remained in line. 15 minutes later, my birthday friend exited the bar, being supported solely by the collective efforts of her coven, and with that my drinking motivation had just gone AWOL. Shortly after that I headed home, leaving my only remaining friend to bask in the now fruitless pub.

When I returned home, I found the female I desire, the other girl roomate we originally embarked with, and her boyfriend. We engaged in some leisurely smoking in leiu of a failed boozing night, and eventually i was left with a two hour window where no one would be home/awake except for percieved dreamgirl, and myself. I began to give her one of those lame arm massages that she was constantly requesting, while I feigned interest in the blu-ray we had chosen, playing it cool as the cliched people would remark. As I grew less sober, my fingerstrokes on her skin grew more bold and it began to be more of a full arm rub, which is still kind of weak. She began repositioning herself for more intimate areas to be accessable, first her back face me for the shoulder areas, then eventually grabbing a pillow as to lay head on my lap. At this point I remember doubting whether or not my full on massage was getting the point across with enough effectiveness that it was to be clear that this was no longer just a massage. with that notion, I began getting really elaborate with my hands, adding pressure at sensitive areas, and making brish strokes blantantly transform into deep rubs. She responded to this with was was unmistakabley moans of pleasure. Before too long she turned her body across my lap opposite of the television, breaking an sort of illuion that we were actually focusing on anything except for the sensual moment that was happening at that moment. We held eye contact as I maintained a steady effort at preserving a pleasurable massage. I now moved my caresses to her face, brushing away her hair, and pausing on her cheek. At this point I found myself doubting whther or not to initiate any sort of serious intamacy, and I probably regret that in retrospect. Before long, my guy roomate returned from the pub, and she quickly vacated the room in a percieved reactionary fashion, myself left in a state of both nirvana and frustration.

After this encounter I decided to start subtely discussing the events of saturday and wednesday with my best friend, in an attempt to gain some clarity in the situation, as both times I had experienced strong attraction between us, I had not necessarily been in a rational state. He expressed concern, much like I had already been in possession of, that she was perhaps leading me on either for her own entertainment, for the sake of some sort of exploitation of my resources, or simply by drunken accident. Either way, relations between roomates can be a delicate scenario, and as such I intend to proceed with caution.

This Friday past, a situation much like the massage occured again, though my memory has very much faded on me due to severe alcoholism. I do remember vaguely her removing her shirt down to the sportsbra she had changed into upon returning home.and the massage being just as intimate, except with the benifet of being across a more exposed area of skin.

Some days have passed since then, and several of my female roomate have expressed concern that I may be on the recieving end of some sort of female manipulation; which is not something I either tolerate or have extensive experience in identifying.
Who wants to read this and condense it for me?
 

hansol

Senior Don Juan
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Edited for being an idiot
 
Last edited:

"You'll Never Feel READY to Walk Over"

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.

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Warrior74

Master Don Juan
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hansol said:
Hot roommate, a bit of flirting, some kino, lots of seductive glances.... wonders if she is leading him on. I think.

Answer: who cares man? Go for it, see what happens. If she shoots you down, move on to the next one. If she goes for it, keep your guard up for a bit just in case she is playing you. Either way, you hardly know this girl, so stop writing discertations and go get to know her better before you fall head over heels for some random stranger.
This guy is gonna get you fvcked up in the game.

Female roommates are no different than women at work. In fact they are worse. Leave them alone. You obviously don't know what you are doing in this situation and your not equip to deal with it. You are being lazy because it's comfortable and easy, and not considering the consequence. Iron Rule of Tomassi states, never live with a woman you are dating. The corrolary is this : never date a woman you live with.

Now what happens when this "relationship" goes sour, but you still have 6 months on your lease? What happens if she was just being nice and now you are the creepy roommate? What happens if things are great but you want to date other girls? What happens if you break up and have to listen to some other guy banging her?

My advice, be the man, go out and get your own women, let her see this. When she makes the forthcoming jokes, player, man*****, etc, tell her...if you weren't my roommate I'd get with you in a heartbeat. Make her think about how awesome it would be to be with you by showing how awesome you are. Then when she moves out bang her. But don't foul your own nest with this unnecessary drama. Show some strength, put her in the friendzone and bang any hot friends she has. You can always bang her later. Real talk. Don't be an idiot. Good luck.
 

hansol

Senior Don Juan
Joined
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Warrior,

Thanks for calling on my mistake. You're 100% correct.

Gambling, when you gotta live with said person for any length of time, is not a good idea.

Don't listen to my last bit there, I'm an idiot. "Don't **** where you eat."
 

Deadly_Ripped

Master Don Juan
Joined
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If you're going to try hard to sound intelligent, you could do it by being concise and by varying your word usag a little bit. The non-standard words that you use tend to show up repeatedly, and your sentence structure is nothing to boast about.

Stop trying to sound to smart... you only make things difficult for yourself and anyone interested helping your situation. Check out the following:
learn what a run on sentence is, and avoid it.
posessive uses of apostrophes
proper semicolon use too (the comma is not a panacea for separating clauses)
what vs. whom in a sentence
proper placement of an apostrophe for abbreviated colloquia
overuse of analogies and metaphors
etc...

Normally I wouldn't say anything, but when you start out by announcing how 'thorough' you are, I have very high expectations. Best of luck with your post-secondary educational endeavors.

I need to know... do you talk the way that you write?
 
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