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.
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.
ever been to Riverside,CAMilitary life. Lived on both coasts twice and overseas.
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.
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.
Ah this is where you learned game from...manipulative kind mother.
We are all a little narcissist my man. I would view narcissism as a scale. We are all somewhere on that scale. The further along the scale is the less empathy has been developed. If one would want to curtail narcissism (you already know where uncontrolled narcissism can lead) one should consider developing more pronounced empathy. Raise empathy, lower narcissism.Dad's a Narcissist, Mom's a Narcissist, Brother was a Narcissist, bet I am too.
Count your blessings you're on a farm. Living in the city sucks right now, can't walk around, can't drive without a significant fine. No homeless idiots or rioters. I'd love to be on the farm right now. City living is bs. Get some VR, you can be anywhere you want from the privacy of your bedroom.Only child from the same marriage, grew up alone in a farm, still am alone in a farm, which led me to be horrible in social situations (but I'm an hell of a public speaker), never had the opportunity to bring a friend home to play with because my dad is an antisocial guy, he never liked being connected with his family, never spoke to me about anything (not even good mornings), very alcoholic but always put food on the table.
Through the teenage years I was a skinny weird geek and when the first pump of testosterone came in and I saw that I could not get girl's I got frustrated, even tho I approached like crazy in school I was always shot down, this led me to be insecure. At 16 I did a tryout for the local american football team, I did not thought I would pass because I was a noodle arms geek fvck, but I did.
I got the opportunity to be around strong men and be introduced to a male only environment of growth and performance, this changed me completely. There was ups and downs, by the end I was one of the best DBs of my team and got some awards, broke my arm really bad, stayed 6 months without any physical activities but got back and got stronger.
When I got approved to a scholarship in a law degree I dropped american football but the mindset of performance came with me, I was a kissless virgin at 17 and wanted to change my life, ever since I'm striving to be better than I was the day before, this led me to want to know how to get girls, and as my father did not give me advice I went to the internet to figure it out, found redpill and the rest is story.
Forget the cash, the cars, and the chiseled jawlines. Female desire operates on a completely different frequency. Primal. Subconscious. Triggers that bypass her logic and hit her on a gut level. Most guys are totally blind to them.
I know because I was one of them. The overthinking. The paralysis. The silent drive home kicking yourself for freezing up. Watching average guys walk away with the girl while you stood there stuck in your own head.
Then I decoded the psychology behind what actually makes women tick. 22 hard rules. Subtle behavioral shifts that rewired my entire reality. The anxiety evaporated. Women started leaning in. Investing. Chasing.