Had a date with a new girl. The pickup was interesting. The date was great. I like her.
I met this girl a little over two weeks ago. It counts as daygame, but it wasn’t a street approach. And I didn’t take her number… I gave her mine. And through some miracle she contacted me. And I got her out. That’s why I like this story… This date never should have happened.
She was vending at a daytime, public event, offering tastes of various wines. As I walked into the event, we made eye contact. She was bubbly, huge “popping” eyes, an exuberant personality, she was radiating youth and charm.
I thought she was Asian, but her genetics are mostly Peruvian, with 25% Japanese from her grandmother’s side. The rest of her is that indigenous “native” that is easily confused with Asian ancestry – no body hair, oval eyes, straight dark hair.
I think she’s 27, but looking at her, I’d guess 23-25. Not a wrinkle to that skin. And a soft girlishness that is very tempting. Simple on the outside, but with real allure. When we met she was the soft, supple bunny to my dark, hungry wolf. Hot moment.
I declined her offer to “taste her vino,” but gave her some “tiger eyes.” I made the rounds at the event. After a bit, I got into a conversation near her, and roped her in, chatting a bit. Big eyes from her. Anyone watching would have known that we were into each other.
In other circumstances, I would have gone direct. I love the unapologetic boldness of street game. I have heard Krauser and Torero talk about “indirect-direct” — where your intent and vibe are clear, even if your words are pedestrian. In this case, she and I were indirect-direct… as she was working and other folks were around.
As my conversation near her wrapped up… I borrowed a “pen” (a thing they had before cell phones and computers). And I grabbed a piece of “paper.” And I wrote this:
“Hey… I love that smile and I want to see you again. Send me a text. 555-555-5555 — Nash”
— From the note I gave this girl
And then I walked up to her… Both of us reengaging in that deep, honey-coated eye contact… And I handed her my note… like a couple of 3rd graders.
HER: What’s this? *huge smile*
NASH: You’ll see. *cocky look*
HER: *totally “on” look in her eyes*
And then I backed away, almost knocking over some wine… A touch of clumsy-nervousness to make it even more sappy and movie-like.
The only reason I gave her my number was because she was working. I didn’t want to get her in trouble for socializing on the clock. Nor do I want her to have to be polite to me if she wasn’t feeling it.
But with that said, I assumed she’d never call.
They never call when you give them your number. Don’t do what I did here. Don’t. It’s a waste of time.
Girls don’t want to lead. And it’s not their job. They have too many offers from solid, confident guys. They don’t need to work, and/or risk rejection, so they won’t follow up. They never follow up… Basically never.
I fought that idea forever. I thought giving my card to girls (even in bold ways) was “game.” It’s not. There are exceptions (I wrote about one in my red flag post), but they are just that, exceptions.
But…
But…
In this case… She messaged me.
HER: Hey Nash, this is the XYZ Wine girl from the event. Thanks for the cute note, it made my day :)
Unbelievable.
I was really hoping she and I would get a date. In part because it was clearly on between her and me. But also… Because it amused the hell out of me that I gave some girl my number and she actually reached out. That’s not really supposed to happen.
We can skip into the date and I can give you the reason she said she contacted me: spontaneity.
She mentioned that word a few times. She is a little bit “shoot from the hip.” She liked the randomness of it. Good for her.
Giving a girl your number and expecting her to call is foolish (and a waste of a good interaction). But if SHE does call, what does that say about her? What does contacting me say about her options? Or her psychology.
That’s not easy to answer. Maybe she has no other options, and I was her only choice. I doubt that. She is young and cute (and smart). She seems extraverted (even though she claims that in the Myers-Briggs sense, she is not). This girl can date if she wants.
Yohami says something very smart when he says:
“If a girl goes out with you, you are her best option.”
— Yohami
I still like that line. Yohami delivers lines like this that sound simple but say a lot.
This is how the messaging went from there:
NASH: Who?!
NASH: Oh yeah… The Cute Girl that tried to give me a drink!
NASH: : ]
NASH: You waited 3 days to message me… That’s good game!
NASH: Wow! You’re a player!!!
HER: Who, me?? Lol, I don’t know the first thing about playing the game ?
HER: I’m just a girl who likes her wine ?
I love that she called herself a girl. That’s a good sign.
A bit more banter:
NASH: I was going to call you “Wine Girl,”… But it sounded mean… And I am sooooooo nice.
HER: Smart move on your part. Glad to know you’re as smart as you are cute?
Super rare for a girl to call me cute before a date. So unusual, it is almost a red flag.
We did the usual logistics, and I had her meet me downtown. Before the date, she quizzed me a bit about where I was taking her:
HER: Where are we going?
NASH: I have three great spots near there… All different.
NASH: Let’s see how we feel and you can decide… Or I’ll surprise you.
HER: Lol, ok, I like surprises
NASH: ^ This is cute
HER: Btw, I like wine and a good cocktail?
And here ^, I could say a few things:
First… I don’t like it when girls try to “supervise” the plan. Typically I think that means she’s masculine, too “alpha female” for me, or she doesn’t trust me. All of which make me less interested. In this case, I answered her question without answering it, and she went along. Good girl.
Then, there is my “that’s cute” comment. I haven’t mentioned this in a while, but in moments like this I am trying to “shape her behavior” toward things I like, that is what I am trying to do here. I did like her response, so I wanted to reward it. Positive feedback, immediately, when she does something I like… That should encourage more of that behavior. Good behavior… That’s what I want.
And I included that last line about “BTW… Wine/cocktail” because I’m not sure if I should read anything into it. I didn’t reply to it. At one level, it’s good communication, and I like that. She’s telling me how to be successful with her (even though I’m not asking, and don’t usually want any help). Hmmm… Still don’t know her well enough to ascribe much meaning to the words or her timing there. I bet it’s indicative of something, but I’m not certain what.
…..
We meet up, she’s 20 minutes late. Typical girl. If she does it again, I’ll call her out.
I’d planned for drinks, but also made a dinner reservation in case we were having a good time (I need to eat). The reservation was for 1 1/2 hours later, in part… because I know girls are always late.
She came dressed for a “hot date.” Shirt unbuttoned a few buttons down. Leather skirt. And high heels. It occurs to me that I haven’t dated the “high heels” type in a while. All the foreign-born Chinese girls (and the tourists) that have come through my life lately have worn oxfords, flats or sneakers. Hmm.
The bar I wanted to take her to was a few blocks away and she was wobbling in those heels just trying to stand. I called us a car and had it shuttled us over to a great little bar.
She was good company from the start, but the romantic mesmer from the pickup had shifted to her screening me. I could see her “critics eye,” I felt moments that were a bit like a job interview, and I called that out. I told her it was normal to want to look me over, but that is was fun to watch her do it. I told her I was looking her over too.
In general, I think she was a little under my weight class and she was fairly easy to spar with when she would try to step up to me.
Our drink at the bar was fun. As I had met her in the context of her being a bubbly customer service girl, I wasn’t expecting much beyond feminine hospitality. But she is smart. That surprised me.
She went to a very serious school. And beyond that, she can read, and has, plenty, and can talk about books (Riv would like that). I never have bad dates and I enjoy women for a wide range of reasons… But I wasn’t expecting her to be that sharp.
I’m not looking for a “peer” or my “match” (whatever that means). That’s a formula for missing out on a lot of great and surprising qualities in these girls.
The way I attract women isn’t overtly intellectual. I’m matching for certain physical qualities initially (her ass, the way she uses her eyes, or the way she walks). And because I am typically after femininity or my favorite physical features (face, skin or lustrous hair), this kind of smart stands out.
Before I knew game, back when I was leaning back (=afraid to approach), I attracted a lot of smart girls that tended to lean forward. Now that I am leaning forward, I attract feminine, charming, interesting girls… Who may have some intellectual mastery but that’s not their main selling point.
Over the course of the night she softened. There was less of that feeling of being inspected. She looked… more surprised. It was easier to lead her. We call this surrender. Over the course of the night, she surrendered. Almost.
I touch girls often and easily. I bet I hugged her as she showed up for the date. I know I grabbed her wrist many times on the date (starting in the first five minutes), grabbed her and physically moved her around. I touched her a bit over the drink at the bar.
At dinner I had the server seat us side by side. She commented as to such. I proudly said that was by design: so she could hear me (I am hard to hear in loud environments)… And also because it’s easier for me to touch her. She smiled.
I’ve taken many girls to this restaurant. At the counter, we sit on bar stools. And the girl will always face the counter, and I will face the girl, pulling our seats close so I can straddle her between my legs. And I keep one hand on her back, almost the whole time. It’s intimate. There’s a “super bubble” every time. Very intimate.
The Wine Girl started off barely on the bar stool at all, she was hanging off the edge, as far away from me as possible. And this was her, still unsure, still screening me, adjusting to the new venue before the bubble could take hold.
But all that softened too, and… I felt it. That urge to kiss her. I bet I was staring at her lips at this point. At one point we both lost our train of thought, a tide of sex hormones and momentary infatuation over-taking us. The “‘idiocy’ of sexual desire.” Very on.
And the “kiss her!” urge happened again. And again. I could imagine myself reaching out, pulling her in, and sucking the shine off her lips.
We were the last folks in the restaurant. She eats slowly, which I like. She was in no hurry.
We walked out into the sidewalk… Midnight on a Friday. I said, “C’mere,” and laid hands on the girl and she balked. Her eyes got big as she defended herself from my amorous intentions. In that moment I had no “surrender” from her at all.
I laughed.
‘Okay,” I said. And I smiled, enjoying the sexual tension. “You should call yourself a car then.”
She looked like a 16 year old… I had dismissed her. She had a wild look in her eyes. Her womb was on high alert (I told you she was smart).
So I tried again.
“No, no, no!!!!!!” A mix of real and feigned alarm on her pretty face.
I felt proud. I smiled some more. I was calm, into her, a little horny, and generally used to this part of the dance. This is not my first rodeo.
She tried to explain why we shouldn’t be making out and I cut her off. “Hey, there is nothing to explain.” And I smiled again. “I wanted to kiss you, so I tried… And I’ll try again in a minute,” I threatened promised.
We stood there, about 8 inches from each other, “new romance” drama playing out, on a Friday night, for all the passersby to see. I asked how she felt. She was partway back to surrender now. She said, “I’m nervous.” I said, “I know. Good.” And she spiked again.
She was too distracted to manage the app to call herself a car. It was taking forever, which gave me the chance to close the space between us again. Another rejection, but it was softer. I invited her to my place and I could see the temptation in her eyes… she declined, but looked mildly tortured about it. More smiles.
Her car finally arrived and I pushed her in that direction. At the car I told her “turn your head that way…” She tried to argue but I pressed her, she turned her head and I kissed her cheek. I stared her down and told her I had a good time. She turned earnest on me, and said she wanted a hug. We leaned in and she gave me a long, juicy one.
And she was gone. Good date.
She doesn’t like texting. She told me so on the date. She likes voice. She had already tried to call me, before the date. I told her I would keep texting her, but I was happy to call too.
And related to texting… I know she does NOT online date. She said so. So, guys, if you want to meet a girl like this one… You have to do it person. Swipe right won’t work. I like that about her as well.
I did text her, the next day… Some teasing and some validation.
And last night I did something very unusual for 2017… I called a pretty girl to ask for a 2nd date.
Before the call I was nervous (about calling, not the girl), but it went fine. She said she had to go and I hadn’t brought up the date — so different than text, where I do minimal chit-chat and go straight to logistics.
NASH: Wait…
NASH: You know why I called, right?
HER: Why?
NASH: I want to see you again…
And I was back to being direct. I love being direct. Anything else feels like a handicap.
This whole pickup was atypical for me. Not really being able to be direct in the first place because she was working. The nature and flow of the date itself (perhaps because she is American born, and I almost exclusively date foreign-born girls). And then this business about taking on the phone. Che strano.
NASH: Tell me when you are free.
HER: I’m free Saturday… or Monday.
Parts of the call felt like being on the street with a girl. The immediacy. The moments where I’d vacuum and force her to reply. I really have no experience with girls via voice on the phone at this stage of the dance… Not in the last 20 years. Always text. And after sex, calls are more normal, but not before. Then, after we’ve tasted each other, voice makes more sense to me.
So that was last night. Today, she has deigned to text me a bit. And she was cute about it.
The Daygame Gods can be spiteful and mysterious… But I think Wine Girl and I have a date for Saturday. And I’ll kiss the cute little thing (and hopefully more than that) or die trying.
Viva daygame.
