Solve My Girl Problems

Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels

I walked in and ordered the usual, a black coffee straight. Sugar and milk were for Dairy Queens and Pussies.

Made my way to the extremely shady seat at the right corner, the place where I usually sit. Most finheads do their work in the office but I preferred the more ambient environment of Panera bread. There’s something about reading business proposals at a coffee shop that made me feel smarter. Plus I was MUCH younger than most people who did this so I preferred working solo. Office space never suited me anyways, working in pajamas was way cooler. Wearing pajamas all day could go both ways. Either you were a homeless man who couldn’t afford jeans, or a genius who relinquished plebeian habits.

I noticed a 9 walking towards me with her friend who I’d give a generous 3.5 too. Maybe the 9 was actually an 8 and I just thought she was a 9 because she sharply contrasted with the human/hippopotamus hybrid next to her. Laugh as you may, but studies prove that when you’re accompanied by people of the same sex who are worse looking than you, you look much better. Maybe I was just being mean.

The 9 looks at me and smiles. I smile back but I don’t say “hi.” I violated the 3 second rule religiously. Not because I couldn’t make myself approach in 3 seconds, but because I could tell when it was appropriate to bend rules in favor of more masterful game. She intended on sitting near me, cheap ring on her index finger + young age meant a beta boyfriend gave her a promise ring, Necklace with a religious hindu symbol meant she at least liked to pretend she was fond of traditional values, dressed like a bum meant she lived nearby and it was a decently affluent neighborhood, dark forearm hair meant increased testosterone, absence of makeup and jewelry meant she wasn’t always pining for male attention, soccer shoes + heavy dirt staining on the left side of the right shoe meant she still played soccer and possibly as a wing, the way her hair fell + typically girlish headband meant she was still somewhat in touch with her femininity. Her bag was decently filled up which made it easy to gauge what was inside based on the shapes of the outer objects. On the right side was unmistakably a book, too small to be a textbook. So she read, that was a plus. Bottle of naked juice popping out with 2 other water bottles; she was possibly a health phobic. Her khaki’s showed a bit of her ankle and I could see the tan line that formed as a result of her socks. Soccer assumption was doubly confirmed. Her smile betrayed her past, she used to wear braces. That was a plus, women who have been humbled by wearing ugly braces in their youth went through less ego inflation during adolescence. There were a couple of other things I noticed but I can’t remember what they were now.

All of this I observed within the course of her walking over to the table next to me, it took somewhere in between 3 and 4 seconds. Cold reading is a wonderful habit, I implore all of you to practice it thoroughly.

The way the tables were arranged, my seating was perpendicular to theirs. The 9 sat with her back to me and the hippo faced me. Beta boyfriend + implied interest meant this was going to be like shooting fish in a barrel. With a Bazooka.

The Hippo shot off about how her ex boyfriend was obsessed with her. I laughed in my head. So typical. At one point she starts talking about how one of her boyfriends used to buy penis growth products. Then she said “Why are guys so obsessed with their cock sizes?”

3…2…1…

I laughed out loud. Made sure she noticed. Made eye contact after about 2 seconds of laughing and then looked at her and said “The same reason why women are so obsessed with suffrage.”

Both of them chuckled. “haha why would girl’s be obsessed with suffrage, we already have the right to vote.”

I turned back to my laptop and with closed off body language replied “oh…I thought it was still being debated in the Senate.”

All of this of course, was lucidly pre-mediated in my head. My comment on “suffrage” made absolutely no sense. What the fuck does voting have to do with penis size? But since when did the substance of a conversation matter to women? In fact, neither of them even processed what I had said, they just assumed it was funny because of the way I said it. All women are genetically scripted to respond to teasing.

How did I know that the fat one wouldn’t shut me off completely? Because girls with way hotter best friends are deeply motivated to prove that they still have better “personalities” and in their deranged minds, that means they need to act excessively obnoxious, flirty, friendly, or funny to monopolize attention. Of course there are exceptions, but the exception never makes the rule. And I knew from the first 3 seconds that this girl spoke that she was clearly NOT an exception. Closing off my body language after the initial statement, plus the fact that I looked like I was absorbed in my work gave me a bit of social proof, enough to expect a lead from from the fatso.

After the second statement the 9 turned slightly to face me, the 2nd IOI. Her eyes glanced to my wrist. All women will swear that money has absolutely no aphrodisiacal qualities. Wearing a rolex helps with game, I promise. Wearing a rolex with sweats helps even more, especially if you’re young. A suit might be too intimidating and less mysterious. Context is key, you must judge every situation by its merits. If I was at a place where the majority of women were single MILFs, I’d wear a custom suit. If I was at a college bar, I’d wear sweats with a huge Omega watch to peacock. If I was at a book club, I’d dress in a tweed jacket and pretend to be a famous author.

A girl taking notice of your wealth or power is like you taking notice of a girl’s low-cut shirt. Girls wear dresses to display sexuality, Men wear suits to display power. Women use their sexuality to get Alpha males, Alpha males use their dominating traits to get women who cater to their sexuality.

We chatted for a few more minutes about women and their failures. Women’s rights is the easiest topic to talk about if you want to tease women. I negged a bit. I gave way more attention to the fat one. Not only because the rules of Game dictate you always need to create a desire for attention in the target by contrasting the amount given to her with the rest of the group, but also because I wanted to feed the hippo’s divine thirst for attention to see if she might explode if I gave her too much.

I negged them about disturbing me from my work.

The 9 replied with “So why’d you start talking to us then huh?” with a devilish grin.

Ahhhhh……The First shit test. The pursuit had finally begun. There’s nothing like the feeling of being shit tested by a girl. It’s essentially the ultimate challenge. Theoretically speaking, every endeavor adopted by a man is a manifestation of his will to power; a way to increase his biological payoff whether it was through survivability or reproduction. Shit tests were evolved by women to test this, to test a man’s capability. To test whether he would be a reliable candidate for mating.

I laughed for a second and a half. “I was gonna befriend you guys so you’d buy me coffee, I can’t afford a refill.”

If I responded too fast, it’d seem too calculated. If I laughed for too long it would seem like I had nothing to say or like I was trying too hard to laugh along and play it off casually. I knew she had noticed my watch earlier so the comment came off as funny rather than self-effacing. If I thought she would’ve taken me seriously, I wouldn’t have said it.

“haha…you can’t afford a refill but you can buy a Rolex?”

Hook. Line. and Sinker.

“I didn’t buy this” I said.

This time the blob was the one to reply.

“Where’d you get it then?

“I had to kill a man.”

They laughed. Slowly I built my way up to a crescendo of diabolical wit. Con artists often become dissatisfied with the nature of humanity after seeing over and over again how easily people can be manipulated charmed.

The 9 had a phone call. She picked it up without looking at who it was and responded with a friendly “hey what’s up” rather than a generic hello. That means she knew who it was, either she expected the call which is unlikely because she was at a coffee shop, or it was a unique ring tone. I presumed it was her boyfriend calling. The call gave time for me and the talking tub of pudding to bond more. Although bonding with her wasn’t much of a problem, her gravitational pull basically turned it into simply a process of not-resisting. A part of me worried that if I got too close to her, I’d simply be absorbed into her interior.

Target came back and started talking about how her boyfriend and her are fighting because he doesn’t like when she goes out when she has “studying to do.” Typical needy AFC behavior masked with a righteous agenda. When women are in the presence of men more alpha than their boyfriends, they are much more prone to fighting and treating their relationship with apathy.

We talked for an hour. I went on and off between work and the conversation. They asked what I did. I said I competed in Origami tournaments world wide.

I knew I couldn’t close here, she wouldn’t want to seem immoral in front of her friend who I now noticed had an uncanny similarity with a Snorlax. I imagined that if she ever fell asleep in front of a bridge, someone would have to use a pokeflute to wake her up.

Eventually Snorlax said she had to go to the mall to get her brother a birthday gift. The nine said she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. I asked Snorlax if she was going to the mall nearby. She said “ya, you’ve been there?”

I said yes and that I was going to have to go later today to buy furniture.

“I can’t go now, I have to finish this, but one of you should come with me later, I suck at picking out furniture. Last time I had to buy a chair and I bought a table instead by accident.”

The “one of you” was a subliminal message to imply that it was going to be JUST me and one of them. Women always catch stuff like that, men are more oblivious. Snorlax already said she had to buy a gift and by her sense of urgency, I assumed the party was tonight meaning only the nine would be available. I was right, and the nine agreed to come with me. Snorlax left to terrorize the mall. The nine agreed to meet me at the mall later, I’d finish up my work at panera first.

I was hoping she would resist an f-close, which she did. I hate when girls readily offer themselves to be sacrificed in the name of reproduction. I lose respect for them.

She was my 3rd LTR, she broke up with her boyfriend 3 weeks after meeting me. Probably would’ve been sooner, but as all of you know, you should never see a girl more than 2 times a week in the beginning.