"She Made Her Decision Before You Finished Your Sentence"

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.

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Oldest advice on women?

Rata Blanca

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From the Book of Sirach

1
1 2 Be not jealous of the wife of your bosom, lest you teach her to do evil against you.
2
Give no woman power over you to trample upon your dignity.
3
Be not intimate with a strange woman, lest you fall into her snares.
4
With a singing girl be not familiar, lest you be caught in her wiles.
5
3 Entertain no thoughts against a virgin, lest you be enmeshed in damages for her.
6
Give not yourself to harlots, lest you surrender your inheritance.
7
Gaze not about the lanes of the city and wander not through its squares;
8
Avert your eyes from a comely woman; gaze not upon the beauty of another's wife-- Through woman's beauty many perish, for lust for it burns like fire.
9
With a married woman dine not, recline not at table to drink by her side, Lest your heart be drawn to her and you go down in blood to the grave.
 

"The Coffee Shop Girl You Never Spoke To"

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.

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"Stop Asking Your Friends What to Text Her"

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.

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Jitterbug

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8th-7th century BC, the Theogony by Hesiod, on Pandora, the "gift from the gods to men:

The Pandora myth first appears in lines 560–612 of Hesiod's epic poem in epic meter, the Theogony (ca. 8th–7th centuries BC), without ever giving the woman a name. After humans have received the stolen gift of fire from Prometheus, an angry Zeus decides to give men a punishing gift to compensate for the boon they had been given. He commands Hephaestus to mould from earth the first woman, a "beautiful evil" whose descendants would torment the race of men. After Hephaestus does so, Athena dressed her in a silvery gown, an embroidered veil, garlands and an ornate crown of gold. This woman goes unnamed in the Theogony, but is presumably Pandora, whose myth Hesiod revisited in Works and Days. When she first appears before gods and mortals, "wonder seized them" as they looked upon her. But she was "sheer guile, not to be withstood by men." Hesiod elaborates (590–93):
Jules-Joseph Lefebvre: Pandora, 1882

From her is the race of women and female kind:
of her is the deadly race and tribe of women who
live amongst mortal men to their great trouble,
no helpmeets in hateful poverty, but only in wealth.

Hesiod goes on to lament that men who try to avoid the evil of women by avoiding marriage will fare no better (604–7):

He reaches deadly old age without anyone to tend his years,
and though he at least has no lack of livelihood while he lives,
yet, when he is dead, his kinsfolk divide his possessions amongst them.

Hesiod concedes that occasionally a man finds a good wife, but still (609) "evil contends with good."
 
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