Budapest: Day Two

I know I’m a changed man from the year before when I’m up and out by 10.30. I’m itching to crank the set wheel and I know I’ve got an itch to try and do 100 sets in the 4 days. If I can do 29 today it’s possible. My God… that’s a LOT of sets.

The day goes well. It helps being out early: less panic. I’ve identified the main daygame streets and set up a nice walking pattern on them. I am absolutely resolved to do my work today and am DETERMINED to be going to bed tonight with the beautiful calmness of having achieved ‘right action’ and done what I should have done. I visualize myself gorging on a celebratory 29-set feast in a Hungarian restaurant that evening.

The weasel doesn’t even squeak. I’m so determined to do the right thing it ends up being straightforward. Not easy… the day is hard and I’m exhausted by the end of it, but there are no tears or shakings of frustrated rage. I just start approaching. And keep doing it. I’m not doing throw-away sets. I make sure that I actually put decent work into each one. I don’t approach just anyone either: every set is selected to be within the right age range, and look like someone I’d like to fuck and have a chance of doing so.

By the end of the day I do 32 sets. I’m knackered but elated. It’s the most sets I’ve ever done in a day. Out of this I’ve got about 9 Facebooks and a few numbers. Two of the Facebooks were with the 2 hottest girls I’d seen in Budapest the whole afternoon. Absolute stunners. Here were my learning points for the day

  • When you accept that the pain of not approaching is truly worse than the pain of approaching then the weasel barely gets a look in.
  • Once you have a goal to do X sets then it casts a new light on your fussiness. All the finely nuanced selection I’d do in London (“mmm nice but I don’t like the colour of her socks, she’s probably an idiot”) is thrown under a harsh, sterile light and pretty much scrubbed away. You HAVE to open sets, you cannot afford to dismiss girls for silly, fussy reasons and it’s very enlightening to see your brain throw out as garbage all the crap you normally come up with to deselect women… throw it out into a big bin labelled “WEASELINGS”. It’s true, one of the real benefits of this pressure-cooker day was to realise that a lot of the “calibrations” I’d do in London were in fact just looking for reasons not to approach.
  • Doing a pressure-cooker day means you don’t have the luxury of getting into a perfect blissful mental state before each approach. You just have to open. And you know what, you learn that just getting a decent, reliable basic open with good, mechanically-remembered body language, smile and comment is in fact generally enough to open. You don’t need to be in an amazing mood. You don’t need to be buzzing. You can open within a much narrower window of moods than I ever thought possible. And what happens is if it’s a ‘yes’ girl then it doesn’t matter, or if it’s a ‘mabye’ girl but who loves the open then she will have enough energy to carry you both through.
  • My best sets where with the hottest girls. I was very cocky, very direct and they loved it. I should open hot girls despite the ridiculous excuses reasons I come up with not to do so.

The last point let me discover a new concept: the Fake Weasel-Back-Story. This normally happens with super-hot girls and is when the little weasel-voice pipes up into your head why not to approach her just as you’re thinking about doing it. FWBS’s are in fact often unintentionally hilarious and creative. Here are the two from my hottest sets of the day. This is what my brain said to me the second I saw here and considered opening. I did open each girl so I can also put the actual truth of the matter down as well:

Super-hot girl A
FWBS: She’s a footballer’s girlfriend and is probably off to meet him outside the opera house. She’ll probably laugh at you!
Reality: She works in a jewellers, is single, bored and is on her way home.

Super-hot girl B
FWBS: She’s a feminist Dutch Feminist-magazine editor and her boyfriend is a ruthless millionaire Russian criminal. Don’t talk to her!
Reality: She’s a Slovak civil engineer, is single, bored and is on her way to M&S to buy a sad little one-person cake before going home.

Disclaimer: of course this is Europe, so in the UK they would, if British and that hot, have probably been quite unpleasant individuals.


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