I noticed that Ferdinand has been stepping up his blog game recently over at In Mala Fide. I wanted to comment on a couple of his posts that caught my attention.
The first is Night Game Is Dead…
It’s time to pronounce the death of night game. After having its limbs hacked off and its genitals yanked out by the root for dog food, night game has finally shuffled off this mortal coil to that big swank discotheque in the sky. If you just discovered [the seduction community] and are reading up on the best shotgun negs to use on a HB7.5, you’re already behind the curve. The minute you step out of the cab, you’re going to get slaughtered.
He goes on to give an accurate assement of how it’s like to game in a modern club while taking a shot at Steve Jobs for being the “biggest cockblocker is human history.”
In the good old days when cell phones were overpriced walkie-talkies, people who went out on the weekend were forced to engage with the world around them. As late as two years ago, you could introduce yourself to a girl and be assured that you could carry on a civil conversation for at least fifteen minutes. You might not get the lay or even a number, but you could put in a decent effort.
No more. The minute the girlies get to the bar, they whip out their iPhones and start texting all their friends to tell them where they are. Then the whole gang shows up and they all turn a deaf ear to everyone else save for the bartender.
I agree with him in that I wouldn’t dare step foot into an American club with the intention to pick up. I don’t mind taking a date for some drinking and dancing, but the hurdles I have to face when rolling without girls are sometimes insurmountable. A club in a poor country is only marginally better.
My biggest issue with clubs is the high male to female ratio. Here’s a picture that a forum member posted from a night out in Ultra Bar in Washington D.C.
That’s an 8:1 ratio on a non-gay night in a big city club. This example is extreme, but even the 3:1 ratios that are just about universal in DC will kill your odds. The reason is that when a girl knows she is scarce, she puts on more cuntish attitude that makes getting laid much harder, regardless of whether the other guys in the club are approaching or not, and regardless of how good your game is. When I’m in a place where the ratio is equal, or where there are actually more girls than guys, I can feel the difference. Girls are looking more, smiling more, approaching more, spending less face time with their phone, and being much more receptive to even my laziest game. When a place is packed with dudes, the best “positive” outcome is to work your ass off to get with a 6. I’m not saying you can’t get laid, but I am saying that it won’t be worth it.
Another reason why club game has declined is because of the proliferation of bottle service. Here’s an email I received which articulates the problem:
The whole bottle service concept did major damage to my club game. I’m lucky enough to be a pretty good dancer, so nightclubs have always been good to me. But when the owners started dedicating much of what used to be a large central dance area, ideal for trolling and mingling, to seating areas for bottles I mourned the loss of a lot of great rooms. I live in South Beach (since 1997) and watched most of the best clubs around 2002 start to turn into meathead venues, largely for tourists and our version of bridge and tunnel types from metro Miami coming in who wanted to be posers with their “bros” and pretend to be big deals. What a shame.
The post Ferdinand wrote should really be titled “Club Game Is Dead,” because night game is still alive and well in bars, which are still the main way that Western girls have sexual relations. While of course some problems exist with bars, they are the easiest way to get laid in modern society. Once your game becomes competent, what matters most is venue selection. Every large city has bars where getting laid is no harder than it was 10 or 20 years ago, and if anything it’s easier, even when you account for the proliferation of mainstream game and smartphones.
Venue selection is an art, but let me share the secret: neighborhood bars. If the bar has a crowd of regulars during the week, then it’s probably a good venue to pick up. If the bar only packs them in on the weekends, like clubs do, then you’re going to run into a lot of amateurs who are less concerned with getting laid than being a dumb ass. You have to pick bars where the main goal of its patrons is to drink in a familiar place instead of showing off, stroking their egos, and getting together with a large group of friends. Once you identify these bars, the difference between them and clubs can make it feel like you’re in a different city. Personally, I’d have extreme difficulty getting laid in a club like pictured above. It’s an unnecessary challenge that would just make me hate myself.
Of course there are downsides to the neighborhood bar: the quality is lower on average, the girls are less likely to put more care into their appearance, and it takes a bigger time commitment to do solid approaches since there are fewer targets, but if you’re in the business of getting laid at night then this is the way to go.
If you’re having trouble getting laid at night, there are two things to look into. The first is your game. If you know other guys are getting laid but you’re not, then there are likely some things you need to work on. But if no one is getting laid, even guys you know who can get laid, then it’s venue selection. Commit to finding neighborhood spots out of your comfort zone. If the neighborhood spots don’t give you the type of girl you want, you’ll have to move to day game, and if day game doesn’t give you good fruit, then you may have what Ferdinand calls Roosh Syndrome…
There’s a new disease spreading among American men of intelligence, class and accomplishment, characterized by total disgust of the victim’s surroundings. The victim becomes increasingly repulsed by the pointlessness of his job, the venality of his co-workers, the stupidity of the people he meets on the street, and the boorishness and dullness of the women he is expected to date. He becomes sullen, forlorn, and anti-social, preferring to self-medicate with alcohol and commiserate with his trusted friends. Self-help books and prescription drugs either don’t help or defeat the purpose of helping by destroying the victim’s mind. Vacations to other places, particularly foreign countries, can temporarily ameliorate the symptoms, but every inch of progress made while away is undone once the victim returns home. The only way to cure the disease is for the victim to leave for good.
I’m calling this disease Roosh Syndrome. And I’ve got it.
Roosh Syndrome happens after you discover quality. Once you get a taste of an easier standard of living, a better way of life, better women, or better anything, it becomes impossible to erase those experiences and continue living in what is now a low quality environment. I’ve touched on this a million times in the past—especially in this video—where you become “permanently damaged” after rich experiences. Nothing short but prudent and methodical exploration of the new environment can alleviate the disease.
I couldn’t justify this self-imposed life of pointlessness any more. I couldn’t sate myself with promises of doing something about my life later, when I had more money or fewer worries. I had to take action.
I polished up my resume, punched up letters of introduction, and sent them both out to a million different places. I went to job interviews, shook hands, and BS’ed like I was back in high school trying to get into Fucknozzle U. And last month, I struck gold.
Living in America is like being a zombie, an endless torture for anyone who isn’t a mindless member of the Crowd. Today, I begin my journey back towards the world of the living. Today, I begin my new life.
The trend I’m seeing is not so much more men living abroad (men have always done that), but men with lessening attachment to the American way of life. More men are willing to admit that there is something wrong with the system that their parents rarely questioned (the mainstream acceptance of books like The 4 Hour Work Week is testament that today’s generation is not crazy about having a boring job with its nine-to-five stability). There is a loss of pride that is tempting men to open other doors, not only due to dissatisfaction with the women, but with the country’s future and place in the world.
Why work so hard for something that seems on an irrevocable decline? How can you not get curious when reading about places like Brazil, China, or Singapore, the rising stars of the world? Why can’t my country be rising? Personally, I wouldn’t mind being in Brazil as it achieves its potential—I’d adopt the country so it can give me the feeling of “national” pride that I don’t have for my own. Call be a bandwagoner, but like anyone else I want to be on the winning team, and unfortunately America has been at the bottom of my fantasy rankings for quite some time. I hope that changes, but I don’t see anything looming in the future that gives me hope. So I pack my bags.