So Many Ways
Master Don Juan
I did, there's nothing there.Originally posted by JoeBlack
checkl your pm.
You made your case like a lawyer. Stable job. Good guy. Ready for something real. All true. All irrelevant.
She weighed your points, nodded along, felt nothing — then fell hard for some tattooed bartender with a motorcycle and a gambling problem.
Logic is where attraction goes to die. The "22 Rules" work a level deeper, on the subconscious switches that decide within minutes whether you register as a MAN or as part of the furniture.
Stop presenting evidence. Start flipping switches.
I did, there's nothing there.Originally posted by JoeBlack
checkl your pm.
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.
Whenever you're trying to learn a new skill it's common to get these feelings. You'd probably agree that, while perhaps a bit frustrated, you're at a better point than when you first began, no?I just feel completely off, like I can't hold a conversation if my life depended on it. Plus approach anxiety has sunk back in. The progress that I had a month ago seems to have stalled.
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.
Pook sounds like a nerd, reminds me of that guy from wizard of oz who turns out to be full of sh1tOriginally posted by booga
+1 for what the Gipper said. Sometimes I feel like *I* am one of the few who actually hit up real live women, & I'm no Pook, I'm just a noob.
Attraction runs on a clock.
She flirted for weeks. Touched your arm. Found reasons to be alone with you. And you were careful. Respectful. Waiting for the right moment.
The moment had a shelf life. It expired around month two, and by the time you asked her out, she'd quietly filed you under "little brother."
One of the hardest lessons inside the 22 Rules: women rarely wait. Interest either grows or it decays, and nothing decays it faster than a man who never moves.
Make the move while she's still inventing reasons to be near you.
I've been to El Ranchito on Tuesday nights, when I went, which was probably 8 or 9 months ago, it was mostly dudes, hardly any chicks.Originally posted by brosnake
Hey dude,
Do you ever go down to the Newport Beach area? There's Sharkeyz, Goat Hill, Sutra, Yard House, Cassidys, and like 3 other smaller places. Tuesdays nights it gets pretty banging at El Ranchito which is near Sharkeyz. Its a $5 cover and all you can eat tacos. Cool place, lots of chickas (21-27 age range).
Keep up the good work dude and if you ever need a wing in Orange County look me up.
See ya at El Ranchito tonight!
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'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.