I met an Irishman at the Colombian university where I studied Spanish. He was a nice guy and I invited him to the food court area to hang out for a bit. He was fluent in Spanish and I complimented his ability and picked his brain a little.
The topic got onto girls and I told him night game is inefficient in Medellin and that my strategy focuses on approaching girls during the day. He was curious of course and I showed him how to do it by approaching a group of three girls next to us in Spanish. The girls invited me to sit at their table and about five minutes in I introduced the Irishman.
He almost fucked it up. He started talking way too much and not giving the girls a chance to answer, and with my inferior Spanish I was being pushed out of the conversation. He had no apparent technique and the girls appeared disinterested, adding no more than a phrase or two during breaks in his monologue. I knew I made a mistake by approaching with an unknown wingman, but I maintained my cool and only spoke when I had something insanely witty or funny to say. This set up a little contrast where I was obviously the more interesting gringo.
It’s hard enough maintaining a conversation with four other people in English, let alone in Spanish. The conversation was dying out. Before it got painfully awkward I ended it by saying we’re getting back to our studies. The Irishman didn’t object because he had since ran out of things to say.
He left soon after that, leaving me alone. Five minutes later the cutest girl stares at me and says, “You can sit and study with us if you want.” I moved back to their table and for the next half hour I’m doing my work with little breaks of talking to them. Since there were other girls I had to work the subtle tip and ask for everyone’s email address to stay in touch with the cute one, suggesting we hang out at some bar they mentioned earlier. I wasn’t too concerned since I’ve had a bit of success with email addresses in Medellin before.
The girls went to class and the Irishman swung by later. Apparently pumped up by my theories and sample approach, he ended up talking to a girl on some grassy area.
“Yeah it was going well, but I didn’t ask for her number,” he said.
“Why not?” I asked.
“I don’t no. I’m an idiot I should’ve.”
Eventually he asked for my phone number and I got his. I’d hang out with him again during the day but at night I rather go out solo dolo than with a beginner who needs heavy pickup instruction.
Three hours later he calls me. Strange, I thought, but I picked up.
“Hey Roosh how’s it going?” he said.
“Pretty good. What’s up?”
“You know those emails you got today?”
“Yeah what about them?”
“Can you give me the email of the [cutest girl]?”
I paused for a few seconds to digest his request. I was eating an avocado with a light dusting of salt from my bed while watching reggaeton music videos. I know that reggaeton uses Spanish that is not exactly up to formal standards, but it keeps me on top of the language.
“Are you joking?” I said.
“No I just thought you didn’t like her.”
“Huh? You think I did all that work for you?”
“Uhhh I thought you liked the other girl.”
“Oh, okay then. Well maybe I’ll see you tomorrow at school?”
When I got off the phone I deleted his number. I spent the time to explain to him a skill that can get him a thousand numbers, but because he views women as scarce and highly desirable, he wanted to go all-in for this one email address on a girl that he neither approached nor closed.
A lot of guys who study game are concerned that once the information is out there, all these other guys will do it and then decrease the overall value of game. But most guys don’t have what it takes to improve and to change. Most guys don’t have balls (or even the proper work ethic), and even though they know that game works and it’s something they should do, they remain harmless threats to those men who remain fighting in the trenches.