Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.
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.
That made me chuckle.Who Dares Win said:Just like the planets, it depends on her mass except that in this case is the other way around.
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.
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.
Who the f*ck does this sh!t? are these guys around your age? I just can't believe how many chumps fill this world. How can these guys not see what they're doing?apprenticedj said:Take my old oneitis for example.
She had dozens of guys showering her with FB/IG likes, no fewer than 10 text buddies, 5 orbiters bringing her goodies, 2-3 dudes she would ALLOW to take her out places and only 1 she would ****.
Now granted she was hotter than average (probably HB8) so she may have more than most but I think all girls apply the funnel system, larger at the top, smaller at the bottom.
X amount of social media "likers", X amount text buddies, X guys that bring her starbucks and sh*t, X guys that she goes out with and X guys she f*cks.
The number gets lower with every tier.
There's no limit to the amount of desperate beta fvcks out there. I will always be staggered by it.AttackFormation said:Who the f*ck does this sh!t? are these guys around your age? I just can't believe how many chumps fill this world. How can these guys not see what they're doing?
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.
What's keeping them this way? shouldn't they wake up... holy sh!t. To be above teenage and do that stuff.LMFAO said:There's no limit to the amount of desperate beta fvcks out there. I will always be staggered by it.
Who Dares Win said:Just like the planets, it depends on her mass except that in this case is the other way around.
I would define what we definte as "satelites" I guess you mean orbiter.
If my that we mean friendzoned guys which turn around her looking for their chance, the more she is attractive the more she has but it also depends about her life habits, work place, places she attends and so on plus her will to keep a guy in her orbit or take him out cause she cant stand him (omegas).
I believe any girl has a main orbiter plus minor ones, possibly any environment is different, gym has X, school has Y and so on.
But keep in mind that orbiters are not exclusive, the same guy could orbit around many girl....guess they also "spin plates from the friendzone".
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.