For an introduction to this “dirty thirty” series of blog posts for my new book Below The Belt, go here.
Fucked Up, Not Just Fucked
Embracing the joys of cold approach pickup gets a hustler into some bizarre situations, far beyond the usual “I daygamed her, number closed her, dated her and fucked her” stories. Each of these fucked up tales is worthy of its own report but there are just too many to recount. “Either it’s a success or a funny story” is a great mindset to have.
A daygamer will most certainly get rejected way more than he gets laid. The rejections will fall somewhere on this ascending ladder:
Level 1: She ignores your approach and carries on walking / brushes you off
Level 2: She listens to your sales pitch for a few moments and then dismisses you
Level 3: She accepts your approach but won’t give you contact details
Level 4: She gives you her details but doesn’t reply
Level 5: She replies to a few messages but then ghosts you
Level 6: She comes on a date but won’t accept escalation
Level 7: She comes on a date, is into it, kisses you, but won’t come home
Level 8: She comes home but won’t get intimate
Level 9: She comes home, gets halfway with intimacy but won’t get her kit off
Level 10: She comes home, is on your bed, almost naked, but won’t fuck
When daygamers worry about “getting rejected” they mean Levels 1& 2, unaware that the real pain of rejection comes later. The higher up the mountain you are, the further you’re going to fall and the nastier the pain!
“Game begins where compliance ends” I’ve said many times before. It’s perfectly normal to face these threats of rejection as you climb the mountain. Wanting to summit easily with no work is just “finding yes girls” and shows a complete misunderstanding of the sport that is daygame pickup.
So why would a player put himself through such brutal rejections (way more than a mountaineer)? Pickup has far more similarities with professional gambling. Even with skill and experience, the siren song of lady luck makes play unpredictable and keeps pulling you back in the hope of the jackpot. Those big wins make you forget about all the smaller losses.
Anyway, back to the filth and squalor. It’s ironic that the non-lay stories of near misses or disasters make for much better reading and are far more popular than straightforward pulls. Humans identify far more with the struggle, the saga, the battle and the comedic tragedy, as that’s what life is mostly about. There’s also stories here about the fucked up situations being a daygamer can get you into beyond the actual pickup itself.
Knife Girl – January 2016, Colombia
I’d gone to daygame in Colombia with Rami, my original wing. The number collecting had been easy but the flakes through the roof. On my third attempt I’d managed to get out a hot petite 18 year old who walked like she was dancing salsa. Her English was zero so we used Google Translate on my phone. She didn’t drink so we had a coffee then I got her back to the apartment. No resistance. Straight to Level 8. On my bed she demands we watch a creepy black and white animated film about murder. I’m getting to Level 9 with lots of LMR. I go to the bathroom to pee and when I come back she’s hiding something behind her back. After lots of arguing I get her to show me what it is – a flick knife! I demand to know what the fuck she’s doing. She says all Colombian girls carry a knife in their bags for self protection. I kick her out after much shouting, my flatmates laughing at the bizarreness of the event.
Shooting A Porn Film, Spring 2014, Essex
I was still living in the daygame House Of Horrors at the time with Dave Diggler. We’d just come back from a tour of the USA and Dave had told me about some side work he was going to do with a mate working as a cameraman on a low budget porn shoot in Essex just outside of London. I had nothing better to do so tagged along for the afternoon, arriving on a drizzly grey industrial estate full of skips and white vans. Not exactly the sunny palm trees of the Los Angeles porn industry. As soon as we got there we realised it was grotty and very DIY. Nobody knew what they were meant to be doing. The female lead was a washed up 5 at best but had nice fake tits. The male talent was off his face on coke and trying his best (but failing continuously) to get it up. Dave quickly climbed the ranks from humble cameraman to co-producer and director to take control. He handed me another camera and the shoot began. Shitty vampire porn if I remember correctly. Every five minutes the fucking would pause as the female lead stopped to drink a can of lager and eat pizza. The whole thing was the least sexy experience of my life but very funny.
Androgynous I-Date – January 2016
Back to Colombia (where a lot of fucked up stuff happened). I was in a shiny new mall with Rami trying some indoor daygame to escape the heat outside. As we were about to head home after a usual number farm I spotted a tall skinny model-like girl about to go up an escalator. I remember thinking she was out of place, as the Colombian girls had mostly been small, petite and curvy. I stopped her and felt like I was talking to a runway model from London Fashion Week. Angular face, no boobs, long legs but very feminine vibe. It was a fast bounce to a nearby coffee shop for an instant date (“i-date”). She said she was indeed a model and had just finished school. I knew there was something odd about her (she was way too keen) but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Luckily there was no fingering of any kind as when I got home I accepted her request on Facebook to see that “she” was actually a “he” – a famous androgynous model and reality TV star in South America. Thank god I didn’t get beyond Level 5!
Bulgarian Cage Fighter – March 2014
I’d gone on a low budget ski trip to Bansko in Bulgaria with Diggler and a daygamer called Mr A. After a couple of days of the slopes we were all itching to chase some tail but the resort was tiny and we’d missed the busy season. One evening we got pissed and ended up in the grottiest strip club I’ve ever been in. It looked like the upstairs of a pub with one flashing light and girls who had front teeth missing. From there we tried the other bars in the village and eventually found two girls having a smoke outside one. I opened them, Dave and Mr A bantered with the chubbier one as I got the other one’s number, a local girl a bit curvy but nice face. Long story short – a couple of evenings later I met that girl for an afternoon coffee and she suddenly told me that she had a boyfriend in the village who was “away in Russia in a cage fighting competition.” She showed me a picture of him on her phone – he was a massive fucker, like a meat head Bulgarian Bond villain. She assured me that their relationship was open when he was away competing which still didn’t fill me with confidence. I walked her back to her car as she knew everyone in the cafe, she drove me up to near my hotel and then we made out heavily in the car, wandering hands everywhere. The next day her boyfriend returned and we were flying out back to London. She’d message me every few weeks asking to see me again but I politely declined.
Bootcamp Madness, 2010 – 2017
In the last seven years I’ve taught hundreds of daygame bootcamps around the world and seen a mad mix of students, scenarios and sticking points. There’s been guys so riddled with approach anxiety that they’ve puked in the gutter or gone off to take massive shits every few minutes. One student kept vanishing “for a pee” which we discovered was actually to the nearest bar to down shots of vodka. Many times I’ve mistakenly pointed out girls for the students to approach only to find out that they’re just dudes with long hair – the student’s reaction of horror is always gold. Other guys have simply vanished with a girl (on an i-date and then a Same Day Lay) only to message me hours or days later from her hotel (one guy messaged saying he was 200 miles away from the bootcamp in London and now in Manchester). Students have tripped over when running to approach, accidentally opened girls in tough situations like when she’s with her dad, and had to face a whole host of calamities from pigeon shit to mall security. One of the strangest bootcamps was in Vienna where one of the students was a priest. He let us use his church for the end of the bootcamp where we watched each other’s infield videos. Amen!
(These stories will be expanded and more added in the final book)