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.
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.
Ahh no I can definetly get people I know to mess him up. He's a pretty big guy himself tho, with big friends, so I'm more scared of him retaliating against me.aBAzLLnA said:What happened? If he's in someone's area, maybe we can arrange a meeting, if you know what I mean...
Its 35$ worth...LET IT GO!TheNewGuy said:Ahh no I can definetly get people I know to mess him up. He's a pretty big guy himself tho, with big friends, so I'm more scared of him retaliating against me.
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.
That superstition must not have made it to my neck of the woods.TheNewGuy said:i just realized that i was using a white lighter that night. the superstition is true.
THROW OUT YOUR WHITE LIGHTERS
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.
If you're going to quote from one of the greatest screenwriters ever to hold a pencil please get the quote correct.Luke!! said:Or turn into robert deniro from taxi driver. Go get a .44 Magnum and "Clean The Streets Of Scum"
Apology accepted. At least now you're aware of it.Luke!! said:Sorry if I offended you there but I did not have the quote memorized like it was my life.
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.