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.
Dinner ran three hours. She laughed at everything. You walked her to her car thinking this one's locked in.
Then: nothing. Two texts. No reply. What happened?
You did what most men do on a great date. You filled every silence, answered every question, and left her with nothing to wonder about. No mystery. Nothing to sit with when she got home.
Rule 3 of the "22 Rules" changes the ending: tell her a little, hold back the rest, and let her imagination do the chasing. The ghosting stops too.
Ahaah this is hilarious! It's your original?
Awesome video but not all guys are huge simps you can lead a horse to water but you know the rest!!
You're posting on the original manosphere, cupcake.Well, incels and autistic underachievers existed before the internet, but since the internet is for a large part about 'communities', the lonely losers found each other and banded together, thereby creating the Manosphere.
As to what has 'become' of the Manosphere is that a bunch of losers banding together don't become winners. Instead, the Manosphere is like a bucket of crabs, pulling each other down.
In a sense, the Manosphere reminds me of the insane taking over the asylum:
The System of Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether - Wikipedia
en.wikipedia.org
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.
Great video did you make it OP?
Same thing that always happens when large numbers of grievance-fixated folks* get together: Orthodoxy became venerated, while free expression and pursuit of the truth, no matter how unpleasant we might find what we discover, was declared "Blue Pill"(Aka. Heresy). Not surprisingly, even the True Believers began cannibalizing each other, sooner rather than later. Oddly enough, something similar happened within Feminism, by time the late 70s rolled around