Backslide To Beta

I backslided again. My game regressed. My return on investment decreased. I wrote about my first backslide in Bang:

Three years after getting into the game, I had my shit together. I had a successful career and lived in a large house in a good neighborhood. I had a motorcycle and bartended part-time at an upscale venue. I had a respectable brand-name wardrobe and I had just ended a short but successful club DJ career. When I met a new girl, I would not-so-casually tell her how cool I was by bringing up my motorcycle, my bartending gig, and my experience as a DJ. On paper I thought I had all the cool qualities a girl needed, but I proceeded to have the worst slump since getting into the game.

I repeated the mistake in believing that my value, when logically delivered to a girl, would create enough attraction for sex.

My life story has become somewhat interesting, evolving into a speech that can take up to 30 minutes to finish. Spanning from my college days and various professions, adventures, and travels, it would always get an enthusiastic response on first dates in the form of “Wow!” or “Amazing!” or “Your life is like a movie!” I would feel validated and pleased that I was the most interesting guy they’ve probably met in their life. I came to believe that this reason—and it alone—should be enough for them to sleep with me.

But my failure rate actually increased. I remember one girl declined my invitation to a nightcap at my place by saying she had to meet her cousin. I’m sure no such cousin existed. Then the flakes came, back to back to back. It culminated into me getting stood up, in such a way that it took me a while to remember the last time I suffered a similar fate.

It’s hard not to put European pussy on the pedestal when Polish girls shower you with their sweetness, when Ukrainian girls feed you borsht made from scratch, and when Estonian girls look through you with their sky blue eyes. You come to believe that all you have to be is nice, and your niceness with be sexually rewarded. And isn’t the proof of that within plain sight of all the happy couples holding hands as they stroll through the town square?

Apparently not.

The value of my life story was being decreased by being lazy with my game, by forgetting to be scarce, by giving direct answers that left little to the imagination, by not carefully managing text reply times, by setting dates too far from my apartment, by being too passive and expecting girls to throw themselves on me, by not teasing (at least lightly), by not controlling the frame, and by being… boring. I incorrectly thought—for the second time in my life—that my past experiences should be sufficient in making a girl wet instead of the attraction I make her feel in the present moment.

Your value matters, your looks matter, and your stories matter, but attraction matters even more, because attraction is emotional and emotions are what most modern girls use in deciding to have sex with you, not a grocery list of your past accomplishments. I stopped being ruthless and methodical in my pursuit for the bang and I was properly punished, waiting in a venue at the appropriate time for a girl who never showed up. The light coming from this signal could not have been more bright.

My life story is interesting, but it’s not game. I want to get laid on my own terms, not at the girls’, so it’s the game I must play, no matter where I am in this world, for as long as I live.

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