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.
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.
It's worst now (except for the Chads/Tyrones/Chadrones, etc..) than the 1950s since as a net more guys had sex because of strict monogomy/marriage. In that light it is actually less repressive as there was less sexlessness among guys. Also women needed guys to be a breadwinner to them and beta guys acutally also had more value.The bitter irony of all this is, that from 2016-The Present, we've essentially been in a social climate which very closely mirrors The 1950s in terms of it's repressiveness. And this has sucked s-it through a f-cking straw!!!
The Nostalgiacels have had their wish for awhile now, and they're still somehow even more miserable than the rest of us
I've learned the hard way that trying to Red Pill guys out of this particular myth("Back in The 50s, even the schleps had little to no difficulty snagging decent p-ssy!!!")is more fruitless than trying to persuade an Evangelical Christian that the dead don't rise from the grave, even if the corpse in question happens to be a fella named Yeshua from NazarethIt's worst now (except for the Chads/Tyrones/Chadrones, etc..) than the 1950s since as a net more guys had sex because of strict monogomy/marriage. In that light it is actually less repressive as there was less sexlessness among guys. Also women needed guys to be a breadwinner to them and beta guys acutally also had more value.
I'm an Evangelical Christian too. Thanks for not p-ss away your effort here.I've learned the hard way that trying to Red Pill guys out of this particular myth("Back in The 50s, even the schleps had little to no difficulty snagging decent p-ssy!!!")is more fruitless than trying to persuade an Evangelical Christian that the dead don't rise from the grave, even if the corpse in question happens to be a fella named Yeshua from Nazareth
I won't p-ss away the effort here
When a woman says it, guys hear a confession. A heads-up. A scheduling conflict.
Here's the translation: I don't feel anything. Right now. With you.
Watch what happens when a man triggers actual attraction. The busy career, the recent breakup, the "not in a place to date" — all of it evaporates instantly. The same woman who was guarding her freedom is suddenly free every night.
The "22 Rules" explain why. When the right switches flip, her timeline rearranges itself around you.
I've got some lousy news for you, hoss, in addition to Jesus never having risen from the dead:I'm an Evangelical Christian too. Thanks for not p-ss away your effort here.
If anything, there's some evidence that "The Crisis Of Masculinity" so many pundits believe to be a contemporary phenomena waa already taking place back then
To be fair, ALL of us moderns could benefit from what's described hereThe 50s were neither as great as Rp dudes believe nor as terrible as feminysts believe.
She asks it casually, mid-sip. And you feel the floor open up, because the honest answer is work, gym, and a couple shows you're half-watching.
Women rarely say this out loud, but a man with a life is attractive before he says a word. The guy who spent Saturday deep-sea fishing and came back with photos and a story — he walks in already interesting.
The "22 Rules" pushed me to build a life worth talking about. Turns out the fastest way to be interesting to women is to be interested in your own life first.
We all miss Hollywood VideoI wasn’t around in the 50s. So I would never claim they were great. I can vouch for 80s, 90s and early 2000s.
Add to that the creaks and creases you're referring to were only one part of The 1950s. As noted here, at 3:25-3:60There was creaks and creases in the "stifling conformity" if you knew where to look but you were stuck with jazz as the cool music until Elvis came along.
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.
Oddly enough, similar factors (Sketchy social science, Panic over violent crime, etc) during both The 1950s and The Late 10s-Today led to both eras becoming far more priggish and censorship-friendlyWell I lived through the Fifties,it was a miserable,cheese paring existence....Good riddance to that!
I'll kinda sorta grant one concession to True Believers In All Things Red Pill... From late '16-The Present, the state of free speech has been in lousy shape
reason.com
Well, life probably WAS pretty cush for June Cleaver and Harriet.... Pity they were no less fictional than Neo, Morpheus, and The Matrix areOn fetlife, there is a long list of fetish fantasies people can say interest them, one of which is "1950s Household." It's more women than men who check that box.
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.