After DreamChink shit-tests herself into a decaying orbit I decide I get The Fury and decide to go for it. I stare at myself in the mirror and give myself a lecture, out loud for twenty minutes, visualising myself giving a bootcamp lecture. It’s brilliant and my state is good.
I start off ok doing warm ups off Oxford Street. Here are the gory details:
15:36 start
#6 15:41 Fit scottish girl sitting on doorstep. I do a weasely opener, pretending I’m waiting for someone, looking at the phone, etc and ask “are your friends as late as mine”. I’m stunned she’s scottish. She’s hot, to me a high-7, has a trim figure, is well dressed and works in Boots! The set doesn’t hook. I’m weasely. I’d have done better going direct.
#7 15:46 Italian. Commented on her sexy walk. Poor english. Didn’t hook. DNTC.
#8 16:00 Stopped a weird Jap girl in plastic pants. She doesn’t get it. Rubbish.
#9 16:20 Stop a H7 UK-Indian girl. DNKM which is gutting as got the DNA click on this one and she had great energy.
#10 16:35 Stop a HB8/9 young brit girl. DNKM. She’s very uncomfortable, looks a bit scared but tries to carry it off. Let her go from pity.
#11 16:40 Chinky looking French girl. DNKM. DNSE.
#12 17:05 Chase down what appears to be an HB9 but DNA-clickable i.e. a 9 that will fancy me. When I open I realise she’s a 7. She’s some Spanish or Latin or something and acts like she’s mentally retarded, burbling, staggering backwards, like a rabbit in the headlights. She can’t process what’s happening. Her brain is literally incapable. I feel a stab of hate for her and let her go.
#13 I see a HB8 c.30 lovely, well dressed uk-indian girl towing a wheelie suitcase. She’s lovely. I approach, almost kill momentum and say “do you mind if a total stranger pays you a compliment?”.. she smiles and starts shuffling away and just laughs it off “I haven’t paid you it yet!” I laugh. “It’s ok… I know where this is going” she says and leaves.
FUCK. Busted. Does this girl know about daygame? I get majorly freaked out and my state crashes. I give up and wander to Chinatown for dumplings, halfheartedly imagining I’m a 200 foot tall mechanized Cyborg, stamping and crushing buildings and people alike and shooting giant flamethrowers over the tiny, scurrying ants beneath me.
#14 Eating noodles two friendly Chinks next to me initiate conversation. I grotesquely DHV myself a lot then get their emails. Neither is hot but one is perfectly acceptable as something to have dinner and sex with.
So. Pretty crap. I’ve discovered that my daygame is virtually back to square one. I’m getting worse results than I did with my first ever ten sets. Why? I think this is because for my first 80 sets at least I was worked into such a state of nervous energy that I emitted a great energy. Plus it was summertime and warm and women were much more amenable to being approached. I was also lucky in having much more targets than I have now. Girls in summertime, at the weekend and in Covent Garden and exponentially more approachable than girls in Spring, on a busy shopping street on their way home.
My game is shit. I’ve discovered that I’m not even doing the basics properly anymore. I’m not killing momentum. I’m probably not smiling enough and emitting enough playfullness.
Maybe you get one in lay in a 100 sets AFTER you’ve done your first 1,000 sets. If so: it’s goodbye from me. Ain’t got time. Ain’t got the inclination.
Basically do I fully believe in this? Am I having fun? Am I emitting zero nerves or uncomfortableness? Have I mastered the balance of fun to intent?
Nope.
I’ll have to be honest. I don’t really want to be doing Daygame at all. I’d rather be pursuing a hobby than trawling the streets. I’m doing it out of neccessity. And I resent it. That’s the honest truth. To me I’m the value in the equation. I should have women chatting ME up. God I hate the current social system. The chimps are running the zoo. Everyone is covered in shit.
36 more sets to go.
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