Hey dudes! This girl was a HB7.5 with a decent face and a nice body. As she walks through the park with headphones on, she makes eye contact with me and I give her the smirk. She responds in passing and I go up and approach. The approach: it's textbook. strong initial eye contact, the compliment, the false time constraint, the DHV, the punch-in-the-arm, the logistical screening, the number close. BOUNCE SON!

Texting game: I watched an RSD Julien video about texting and, in true form, he says to just go for it. Meaning, no bullshit, just text "what are you doing tonight" I do that, logistics aren't working. I do it again the next afternoon. "what are you doing tonight." "Come have a drink with me form 8-9" She doesn't respond for 5 hours. I wait and try to be patient. She texts me back at around 7:30. (I know that if this didn't work out, dudes would have derided this text strategy. Two days in a row, texting the same boring shit? Doesn't seem like I have a life, I'm too available etc. But I had calibrated, this chick was one of those butterflies whose attention can change like the wind so I was decisive.)

Day-2: We meet in a cute space in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. The venue is good: kino-ready and live piano. She's already had a whiskey or two. She's loosened up, bitch-shield is down, FIRE! In practical terms, this means skipping over some conversational fluff and skipping straight to sexual escalation. For example, because she was late and two drinks deep, I make her buy the first round. When she's ordering, I stroke the small of her back and whisper into her ear, you have a nice body. Like most girls, "she's like oh my gaawwwdd stoopp, no i don't" So then, I say "you know what you're right, you're like a hippo." Natasha has this look of indignation. She looks at me and I hold my own: "I'm just kidding, I love you. What do you want to drink. God you're so cheap" Push push pull the boat, gently down the stream, merrily merrily merrily merrily boost my self-esteem.

And so it goes. We alternatively dance and talk. During one moment of high-energy, the conversation somehow turns onto her boobs. I don't remember how exactly, it just happened organically and for dudes wondering damn how did you frame control that one? I didn't, it just happened. So i responded the right way HB: "My boobs are like my best asset." Me: "Really? I don't believe you." <-- Voice tonality was flat and alpha. This was a good game-time decision. Think about how wrong the vibe would've been if I had been playful. Me: "I'm going to feel them." I'm smirking when I say this and I reach over. I'm waiting for her to stop me. I actually wanted her to say "what are you doing" because the correct response is "waiting for you to stop me" (thanks Don Draper!) I grab her right one.
Me: "Hmm, this feels alright. Pretty big yet nice and firm" <--- vibe is joking, as if I'm a doctor clinically evaluating the quality of her breasts. Me: "alright let's see how the other one compares. ooo the left one is a lot better" HB: "hahahhahahahah" Me: "I'm gonna motorboat your titties now" I FUCKING MOTORBOAT HER TITTIES. They're great!!!

So we keep dancing and the really old dude playing piano gets up to leave. He walks past us and she engages him in conversation. This is the crucial moment I lose the frame. They have their own little talk and I chime in, according to social politeness. He suggests we all get a drink. I just go along with the flow. What I should have done was control the frame. I should have said, "Sorry sir but we're on a date and I want some alone time" or just pick the girl up and literally carry her to a different part of the bar. That would have been a high risk move but it would have REALLY cemented MY frame.

The rest of the night is horribly predictable. It's the three of us and the old man is doing what old men do best: talking about himself, some of it interesting, some of it painfully trite, some of it wise. This entire time, she's giving him attention,which is what the most disgusting thing was. (i couldn't help but imagine this HB fucking this old guy, gross!) Touching of the arm, laughing at his jokes, asking him dumb questions, meanwhile she's looking at me to see how I'm reacting. This community often thinks of shit tests as simple questions, "are you a player." It was my mistake for not seeing what the situation really was. A shit-test.

I don't react well. I'm vacillating between the socially conditioned thing to do, which is to listen to the old man yap about playing piano in the 60's, and the attraction-based theory, which is to not give this HB any attention. So I'm probably acting rather incongruent, but from the outside, I probably just looked bored, staring at my phone, listening, taking sips of beer, and occasionally saying blatantly obvious platitudes like "this country is fucked," or my favorite, "yeah the 60's was a crazy time." no shit sherlock

I finish my beer and I tell her to walk me out. I say I gotta go home, and i say, let's hang out for 10 minutes, I have to go to bed soon, after that I'll kick you out. When she gives me socially conditioned answers, it clicks in my brain. I had been creating this nice little safe bubble where motorboating titties was alright and then she popped the bubble by approaching the cock block. I wasn't able to wrest control back from the situation and she didn't feel comfortable anymore. The bubble was popped and so was my night. I left angry.

TL;DR: frame control=motorboating, no frame control=blue balls