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.
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.
I could talk to any woman I wasn't attracted to. Charming, funny, relaxed. Then a gorgeous woman looked my way and I'd become a sweating, babbling mess.
The fix took me years to find and ten minutes to learn. Nervousness and excitement are the same physical state — pounding heart, adrenaline, flushed face. Your brain just picks the label. And you can pick a better one.
Rule 16 shows you how. You feel the nerves, relabel them as excitement, and let that energy pour out as enthusiasm. Women notice the guy radiating it. They always do.
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.
What is your story, Don't. Do you work for a living, hustle or pension?don't said:damned right. I've had that knowledge/attitude ever since the Army sent me to Korea, back in the 70's, dudes. You are nuts to let US women give you the slightest amount of static or heartburn.
That's actually a very neat, convenient, thing about an RV. If you have to use the 'head', just pull over at the next stop.LiveFreeX said:I have always dreamt of owning a car that has its own bathroom!![]()
Next Monday you'll feel more confident. After the gym you'll feel more confident. After one more drink you'll feel more confident. After you get a better haircut, a better jacket, a better job.
You've been "getting ready" for two years.
She's standing ten feet away right now. She'll be gone in four minutes. No amount of preparation will manufacture the courage that only comes from moving your feet.
Walk over. Stumble through the first sentence. Let it be clumsy. Let it be imperfect. You will feel more alive in those ten seconds than you have all month.
I haven't been bothered once by the cops. I've got a 19 foot class C, smallest one you can find. The vans are class B's, but I found them to be very tight small and confining.don't said:I hate anything much bigger than a mini-van. Not only does the mileage suck, but they are magnets for cops and thieves ( too often the only difference is a uniform). We move several hundred miles, twice a year, to avoid the heat and cold. Once at our 'spot", tho, we don't move much, and mostly use the bikes to run errands. The van gets moved twice a day, tho, to avoid hassles from neighbors and cops. It's not necessary to move it far, tho, less than a mile suffices.