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.
Your buddy Dave has been single for three years and thinks "hey u up" is a valid strategy. Your other buddy Mike just got dumped and told you to "just be yourself."
You showed them her text. You asked them to decode the emoji. You drafted four responses and sent the screenshot to the group chat for a vote.
She's been waiting forty minutes.
Put the phone down. Stop crowdsourcing your love life. Type something that sounds like you. Hit send. Then go do literally anything else with your evening.
The dopamine hits and ego boost NN gets from getting banned and creating new accounts to crusade against his "manosphere" boogeyman?DemFeeelz said:What else would they have to talk about?
( . )( . ) said:Not this sh!t again.
Fvcks sake you're a drama queen NN.
I'm just going to throw a theory out there and I could be way off but here it is:
Could your obsession (and it is an obsession, you've literally been doing the same thing for years) be a way you build up your own ego and moral preen to make yourself feeeel better?
Hear me out. Vice makes his "You all don't lurrrrve the women as much me as me coz yall use the meany words when you talk about chicks" posts as a way to moral preen and boost his own ego. Could these endless posts and accounts you make lamenting the big bad manosphere be your way of doing what Vice does? The adrenaline rush from taking a position of faux moral authority and grandstanding.The "edginess" you perceive within your character from continual bannings which reinforces this crusade you've conjured up within your own mind?
How close am I ?
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.