Looks matter in Brazil, and they matter in a big way. If you have blonde hair, blue eyes, and an above-average appearance, you will have an easy ride. Girls will check you out, invite you to approach them by getting close to you, or just approach you outright.
I remember when my Danish roommate told me the story of how a girl approached him. He rebuffed her by saying he’d chat with her later, and then she approached him again later in the night by grabbing his arm tight, basically begging him to kiss her. That has never happened to me anywhere in the world, and most likely never will.
It’s no surprise that my roommate was not big on approaching (until meeting me, anyway). With his good looks he was never hurting for poon that he had to dive into the trenches and work on his game. So what he did was wait for a girl to check him out before going over to play cigarette game, in addition to maintaining a profile on Brazil Cupid. That’s all the game he really needed in Brazil.
But of course there’s a big catch: I banged about the same quality as him (I like to think better), though he had me beat in quantity. It’s true that I had to work harder by doing far more approaches than him, but by using tighter game, which in Brazil was approaching much more and not being needy, I could get women who were significantly better looking than I’m handsome, while he got girls on the same level as himself.
How do I feel about the extra work I had to put in?
Life sucks! It isn’t fair! Why God, why?!
Though honestly I’m fine with playing the hand that I was dealt, because I know there are a lot of guys in the world who have it worser off than myself (unless you’re a quadriplegic or look like the Elephant Man, you’re still in the game). At the end of the night when me and the Dane were talking about the girls we were banging, I realized the result is the same. If anything, by working harder I’m building a skillset that will stay with me long after our looks fade. The alternative, of crying about it and not getting laid at all, is simply unacceptable.
The Dane and I have become quite good friends (I think I mention him here more than Virgle Kent or Roissy). We have the type of bond where we can openly discuss our strengths and weaknesses, so one day he said to me, “I wish I had your game.”
Without skipping a beat I replied, “I wish I had your looks!”
If he did have my game, he’d be unstoppable, but that will never happen because his results will always be good enough, while on the other hand I’m overcompensating for a youth of zero pussy. He doesn’t have the ache like I do, that while much diminished is still bubbling underneath the surface. Thanks to game, uglier guys like myself can get girls just as hot, or hotter, than a guy who used to be a somewhat famous singer on MTV Europe. No lie.
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