The Shocker
Senior Don Juan
The approach, plus the Art of Conversation.
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.
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.
Grand Wizzard Alamar said:This is where I'm at (this is complete BS):
Enter the Travels of Alamar, from sandy sun to barren wasteland, over hills of sweet emerald green grass growing. Across the horizon, fields and fields, oh endless fields or trees and beautiful flowers. I'll be damned if you don't spot at least 100 butterflies fluttering around in the sunlight. Journey through caves, cliffs, and caverns. Across river valleys, streams, brooks, lakes and forests of smooth moss, heaven-etched to the touch. Peace love and harmony await you at the end of the rainbow, for there is no pot of gold. But when you reach the end of the rainbow, you'll find YOURSELF.
I have begun my journey, for as an apprentice, as soon as you leave you have already proven you have what it takes to become a journeyman. I am a journeyman. There is no returning when you begin, and failure will track back in your steps. Even if failure brings you back to the start, you are still on the journey, always and forever.
I have traveled for a little over a week, and I have been proud of myself, but then again, depressed that I have so much missing, so much unfound and undone.
It was just yesterday that a single smile, a smile of great integrity, as I nodded from my bus window across two layers of glass, again, a smile of such great integrity that I forced an unseen smile back from myself, thinking to myself: I FEEL GOOD. Though I didn't expect that I would. But alas, this was a lingering light, drenched in falsehood.
Such a moment I would never forget, though she would lose all memory to ever regret.
Today was a good day, though I found depression through my achievements. The most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life, so shy, so pleasant. Well I say this truthfully and with no repentance, she smokes with annoying friends.
Though I initiated the initial step, my touch to her touch, so light, not much, not enough. A subtle smile, quick with low grade feeling. The shortest exchange of words, then she told me to step over her, and it was over.
My travels have proven successful, but arising more greif and despair as I go deeper into my feelings and into the feelings of others. Nobody actually likes me yet, I am depressed and saddened. When will I reach the next passage?
Screw ****, for in my journey I have a weapon like no other. What it is, do you wish to discover?
Do you?
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.
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.
They sure as hell do like it. I did a tie for a girl once, and she looked at me for ages (I was touching her neck, so I guess that's a hot spot)Grand Wizzard Alamar said:thanks guys, I'll try to suck less
I read the first 5 lessons in pooks 15 lessons, but thats all, so I think I'm really bad.
also that smile... she has so many fu**cking teeth, its horrible the one-itis that keeps me thinking about that. the best smile I've ever gotten.
so I'm really messed up right now I guess, Idk. I'm just letting all of the feeling out so i won't have any feeling when I take action...
I have self doubt and a malevolent case of oneitis. lol.
When you talk to girls that you already know, do they like kino and eye contact? I have no idea of what kind of kino would be good on girls...
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'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.