"I just moved here from Florida."

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.

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To my friends in the Great White North, just how bad is it there now?

"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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Desdinova

Master Don Juan
Joined
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Toronto's a fvcking wasteland of crime, trannies, and libtards. You couldn't pay me to visit, let alone live there.

I have my 7 acres of land in the middle of nowhere. I also own a gun. Most things that get stolen around here are quads, something I don't own. I'm not really bothered by urban problems since I moved out of the city. It was by far the best move I ever made. The city is riddled with crime, homeless encampments, wasted tax dollars, and stupidity. My biggest problem is deer feasting on my fvcking garden.
 
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