2022.01.05. Impala.
A very attractive blonde in her 30s. I strategically introduced myself to her husband a few days before. They are both regulars at the gym. I did this specifically to make it less weird if I chatted her up.
His demeanor is tough to read (standoffish at times, later I learned is a surgeon). Mate guarding wouldn’t surprise me. So I figured my best defense (short of introducing myself to both at the same time) would be to open him first so that if she mentions me, he will recall a similar encounter (and be less likely to assume an ulterior motive).
Last November, I started nodding and making eye contact to both (as I did with several people). She is wealthy white woman attractive. She has quality fake breasts and financial standards. But still, was surprisingly receptive to my eye contact. So I expected a positive response from her.
When I spoke to her this morning, she said a few words before I did my spiel. Good eye contact, good warmth. Almost as though she was expecting me. I don’t recall what she said at the start. But after playing along with the name exchange, she told me she called me Cappuccino Man because I always have coffee with me.
She said Man instead of Guy. Guy is a sexless word. Any nickname reveals she noticed me. But one in which a she tells me she uses Man to label me, I take as a sexual cue. Man is the most sexually dominant casual label. For all I know she calls me Guy in her head, but when I addressed her, it came out as Man. Effect is the same, in my presence, I’m a man to her. Most other males probably aren’t.
I maintained solid posture, eye contact, and calm movements. I apologized briefly because I started talking to her just as she broke into a run. An inadvertent breach of courtesy. As I said goodbye, I said “glad to know I have a nickname.” This was a supplicating, low value statement.
More self-negation than I wanted. But this journal is for spotting and correcting such mistakes.
Yet another transition where a woman goes from seemingly unattainable (in my mind) to just another attractive woman who may have sexual interest in me. This feeling is intoxicating and dissatisfying. I’ll tangent on dissatisfaction below. The intoxication is in the novelty (for now) of the transition, combined with the natural boost her warm signal provides me. I love the feeling, but fear it could hypnotize me out of frame and then I’m daydreaming about her.
I hope the novelty wears off and I simply expect attraction from women I instruct through solid body language, calm energy, and leading.
* * *
This warmth is also dissatisfying. It is bittersweet. To see just how fucking easy approach becomes after one gets over the initial fear, pisses me off a little. Reminds me of amateur golf. Every new golfer has had a hole where he took 8 shitty strokes to get within 75 yards of the green and then randomly holes out with a wedge. The great finish makes you even more infuriated at what came before.
I started to get over this by just saying good morning to the easiest targets. Then introducing myself to people. Anyone. The best practice for approaching a smoking hot 23-year-old woman? Start with 83-year-old men. The same anxiety bump is involved in every attempt to talk to a stranger. It may be larger with a fox. But that is 1-to-n, to borrow from Peter Thiel (Zero to One).
Practice zero-to-1 on the least sexually threatening humans you can find. After a few, the volume of anxiety goes way down. Except for a few very unapproachable people, it gets to the point it’s either easy, or you’re addicted to you own feeling of confronting your nerves.
Getting laid may still be hard, but learning how to approach and speak to a woman in a way that reveals her latent interest, is despicably easy. And it was there the whole fucking time.
Plenty of worthy men will go to their graves never learning this basic skill. I was ignorant of it until 43. I could have started when I was 14. It is not the only thing one must learn to succeed with women. But it’s the critical, but simple, first step. And women are desperate for us to discover it.
They want all decent men to know this skill. But they are designed specifically to never just tell a man this is what he needs to do. It goes against the way God made her to instruct men on how to get this right. Women are hard-wired to accept only men who know how to and do approach them.
Lost boys believe women don’t even think they exist. They are correct, but not in the way they think. The ability to approach a woman is what defines a man for her. So it is true that lost boys, who never approach, don’t exist as men for women. This painful invisible barrier is very real, and very solvable, but never on the boy’s terms, and only on the man’s and woman’s terms.
Now that I’ve learned it, I know the folly of expecting or demanding a woman help a guy get to this starting point. She can’t. Not because she’s dumb, greedy, or evil. It’s a rule of the game. It just is. My heart breaks for the men who, like my old self, are ignorant of this despite the yearning in their heart.
