I haven’t written a post like this in years. On the one hand, I look down on talking about individual encounters as a form of chest-thumping and boasting that it has become for the most part. But on the other hand, I recognize the usefulness of it as a learning tool. When I was starting out, I probably got more value from posts like this than any others. And many have said as much to me over the years.
So it’s with hesitation that I take another stab at the tradition.
Hopefully, in some ways, these posts will differ slightly from the standard fare. Rather than focusing on singular triumphant moments or exceedingly decadent experiences, I think it’d be much more useful to present a small random cross-section of my sex life as an example of general attitudes, mindsets, and opportunities taken.
It’s one thing to show and build up our finest hour. It’s another to simply show what it’s like to walk in another’s shoes for a few weeks. I hope to provide the latter, for edu-tainment purposes, of course.
And since I am on the fence on writing about stuff like this these days, I’d be curious to hear feedback either way: do you think I’m a self-indulgent pig? (I can already tell you the answer to that one.) Or am I providing a useful as well as interesting learning tool? Or perhaps all of the above? You tell me.
Note: this was originally intended to be a single long post, but me being me, the length got out of control, so I’ll be spacing the post out over three days.
Anyway… what follows in the next three posts is the play-by-play of my last three lays. All three occur in completely different types of situations. Relative to my history of escapades, none of them are particularly outstanding or impressive. And that’s kind of the point: the value I hope to impart here isn’t that of rising to extraordinary occasions, but rather, simply taking advantage of very, very ordinary ones.
(OK, these situations may not totally be ordinary, but you know what I mean.)
Each story and girl has a particular point and lesson that accompanies it as well. The first being that solid game is defined less by your successes than your lack of mistakes. The second lesson is that adaptation is far more important than execution. And the third lesson is that seduction is all about actions and expectations, not words or thoughts.
So, our first stop is Thailand. For most of September and in early October, I was training in Muay Thai kickboxing at a small gym on Phuket Island.
The gym I was training at (Rawai Muay Thai if anyone cares) is mostly marketed to Westerners as a fun and friendly (and masochistic) way to get into amazing shape very, very quickly. Although, the gym is definitely more than that. The trainers are all current or former professional fighters and the gym has a very good track record of putting people in the ring and having them win.
As a result, you end up with a smattering of personalities at these places: everything from the hardcore MMA guys who just came off their latest steroid cycle, to the international traveling misfits who are looking for their newest thrill (that’d be me), to gym nuts who love taking the abuse to get into amazing shape, to fat people trying to shed 30 pounds ASAP.
As you can imagine, the girl-to-guy ratio at these gyms is about as good as a men’s locker room.
In fact, our gym at any given time never had more than 1-2 girls (out of 40+ people training). And often these girls were there with boyfriends, didn’t speak English, or were well, they were butch and ugly.
A couple exceptions came through though, and my last week there, one sure enough did. A short Canadian girl swung through for a week to get into extra good shape. She was affable and smiley, although went nuts on the kicking bags in a way that reminded you to not fuck with her. Not going to lie, she wasn’t super hot or anything… not ugly, but not that cute. Pretty average, maybe slightly above.
Of course, the nature of having only one mildly attractive girl in the midst of dozens of sweaty, testosterone-laden kickboxing men… well, her stock immediately became very over-priced.
I kept my profession under wraps while I was there, and it took everything in me to keep from cringing as guy after guy would awkwardly talk to her, try to impress her and generally say a bunch of things that were cool and clever in his head, but just came off as try-hard.
My read on the situation was instant: back off and leave it alone. Or as Al Pacino says in Glengarry Glen Ross, “When everybody goes one way, I go the other.” There was no urgency to me about it, it just seemed like a low-probability situation with a low reward. Not worth it.
If all of these bozos (who were mostly bigger, buffer, taller and better-looking than I was, by the way) were going to constantly inundate her with needless attention and cheesy conversations, then I was going to do the opposite: more or less ignore her.
Now, I didn’t do this in a, “OMG, I HOPE SHE NOTICES HOW MUCH I DON’T CARE,” way. Quite the opposite. See, a situation like this is more or less a lose/lose proposition most of the time. If you jump in and try to out-bozo the bozo’s, you just become that, King Bozo. Leave the “Alpha” game at the door.
You might as well just let it go and let things play out. The mere act of doing this demonstrates more confidence, and can cause you to stand out on its own. And even if you are never put in a situation to hook up with her, you’ll always at least keep your attraction as high as possible.
So this is what I did. And as you would guess, an opportunity eventually presented itself. Friday night, a large group of us decided to get together and take a party boat to one of the outlying islands.
I won’t get into the boring and gruesome details, but it was about eight guys and the Canadian girl. Our party plans were all pretty spur of the moment, And as often happens with improvised plans concerning 10 people wanting to get drunk, the plans got completely fucked up.
Long story short, some of the local boat operators were trying to scam us. I took a pretty loud and assertive stance against going. While the other guys mulled about, and took turns trying to talk themselves into it, then each other into it, and finally the local boat operators into it, I put my foot down and said we were getting scammed and I would have no part of it.
To my surprise, the Canadian girl immediately piped up and agreed with me. Pretty soon, the rest of the guys fell in line. To the local bars we go.
At the local bars and clubs, not a whole lot happened for most of the night. Again the guys all clammored for her attention and approval. I just sat back and had a few drinks. It wasn’t until we got to a club with a dance floor that an opportunity presented itself. Being a girl, she wanted to dance. And being a bunch of tough MMA guys, the guys all decided they needed to do a bunch of shots first. So hopping in with her to dance was easy and then it was just a matter of moving her to away from the group to have her to myself.
It especially wasn’t a hard decision since the alternative was to deal with the dozens of prostitutes in and around the club. I’ll save my feelings on prostitution for another time, but let’s just say my patience for them was pretty low after being in Thailand for a month.
We danced all night. I created a pretty strong “Us vs. Them” frame by talking about how I was so sick of prostitutes bothering me all the time and was so happy to be dancing with a “normal” girl. My guess is this probably built some comfort as there’s a pretty big stigma for guys going to Thailand to sleep with a ton of hookers. This let her know that I wasn’t some sex-crazed whore monger.
As always, escalation was easy while dancing. We stopped for a while, I bought us drinks. We took some pictures together. Talked about childhoods and turns out she lived in South America for a while as well. Our little bubble formed pretty nicely around here — by bubble I mean where you’re with a girl and you reach the point where you kind of forget that there are even other people around.
Here I came up with an excuse to leave. Drunk munchies. We went down to an amazing burger stand a few blocks away. Stopped to point at the lady boys. Grabbed burgers, water. This is when I finally kissed her. She was ready in the club, but I wanted to do it away from all of the other guys in order to prevent a big scene or any jealousy or drama. I think she appreciated this.
Then it was just a matter of saying something lame about how tired I was to get her to agree to grab a taxi home. She was literally staying down the road from me. I don’t remember completely, but I believe she just followed me in. By this point, it was pretty clear what was going to happen. She was going home a couple of days later, and I was moving on to Bangkok a few days after that. We just wanted to have some fun together.
I found out after she left that she had a long-term boyfriend back home. Go figure…
The takeaway here is this: you don’t always have to be the coolest, or the loudest, or the most dominant, or the shiniest, or the best looking. Sure, in many situations it helps, but in many situations, it hurts. A lot of the time, success with women is a matter of NOT making mistakes rather than creating successes.
Even when the odds were stacked way against me, I saw ahead of time that the other guys were going to make tons of mistakes. That made my strategy simple: don’t do anything. Don’t hurt myself and let them blow it themselves. Then if an opportunity arises, take it. Simple as that.