This week, I took a stop by my favorite Monday night spot, Madrone for those of you in the Bay Area. If you haven't been, you need to go ... on Mondays. Look for a youthful faced Indian man tearing up the dance floor, driving all the ladies wild, and buy him a drink. He'll turn it down, because he's driving, but just soak up his energy, because that man is a pick up God waiting to happen, we're all just eagerly waiting for that moment ...

(Edit: I have been told to clarify that I am not that youthful Indian man. First of all, I don't write about myself in the third person, second of all, this seems pretty self explanatory. But whatever, gotta answer the peanut gallery)

Moving right along. So on Mondays, Madrone gets down with that sweet, sweet soul of Motown and I and a bunch of the other Seddit heads from the Bay like to meet up there, tear up that dance floor and pretty much own the club. This Monday was no exception.

After a couple of the guys came by my new and improved living room pre-game spot, we all made it to the bar. That youthful Indian faced man led us into an impromptu yoga routine ... at the bar. Yes, you read that right, we did a yoga routine. At the bar. Which was absolutely hilarious and suddenly made us the life of the party for everyone there.

Point #1: when you go out, go to have fun. Don't go to get girls, go to have fun. Girls will notice that fun and want to be a part of it. With this same group of guys, we've played "the Dating Game" with girls on the street, we've started a sign along version of "We Will Rock You" and all sorts of zany activities. Zany works.

At any rate, through the course of the evening, I met a young lady with a body to die for. I'll give you the abridged version: her dad was a plastic surgeon, so she had phenomenally realistic and perky implants, she practiced yoga and was a vegan. Back dimples, gentlemen. Back dimples. We'll get into how I found that out later.

At any rate, the youthful faced Indian man (whom I think I should just out but won't until he does himself) is trying to seduce her friend with his hypnotic dance moves so I decide I'll wing him. Now, here's the deal, when I dance with a girl, I don't want to sound cocky, but it's pretty much on. I've learned some very key moves from some of the other Bay area all stars, including the kissing the neck lightly from behind, the raise the hands over their head and place them around your neck. Basic stuff, but things we skip over so often.

Things progress, we engage in some good ole' fashioned making out, and I tell her she should come home with me.

This is something I've been dabbling with lately: striking while the iron is hot. Don't get me wrong, it's ballsy and nerve-wracking as hell, but every single woman I've done it to has reacted positively. None of them have found it "creepy." Oh, few have actually responded to it, but this is a tool still under refinement.

Point #2: Be honest with your intentions. By telling a girl to come home with you, she knows right off the bat that you're about giving her the Harlem Shuffle and there's no illusions.

Nonetheless, the young lady with the flotation devices ain't having none of that on night one, which is fine by me, and I'm completely unreactive, but tells me that she can't wait to hear from me.

I let her go on her way and set up the date for this past Saturday night.

A little background here: rent in SF is fucking steep. And while I may be making a significant income, the fact is at the moment I am flat broke. Part of this may be from trying to date four women simultaneously, but it forces me to become creative. With this in mind, I ask her out for an early afternoon rendezvous at Golden Gate Park as the sun is going down.

While at the park, as it's getting colder, I pull out my secret weapon: my personal story.

A good friend of mine, and also a mentor, told me something a few weeks that really changed my world:

"T-Rex/Pug, I don't like canned shit. I like canned (me), I like canned T-Rex/Pug. You have stories. Use them."

That really stuck with me.

I had previously worked in political campaigns, and before that, in the world of sales. Stories were critical in these fields. And before that, I was a wannabe screenwriter. So storytelling is something I've always had a bit of a knack for. But for the longest time, I wasn't really incorporating it into my game. That little conversation with the mentor turned that all around, and I decided that I would use this same story that drove people to make thousands of phone calls for the President to get me laid.

And oooooh boy does it work.

However, the trick is to tease it. She had previously asked me "so what do you do for work" over a text message. I told her "that's a story better told in person." She continued to try to get me to give some hints while we bought a bottle of wine before heading to the park, and I kept teasing her with parts of it, but not willing to give her the full monty until I had her as a captive audience.

And when I did, she was putty in my hands.

It started to get cold, so we went to go get some gyros (this was the most money I spent this entire date for the record ... a whopping 13 bucks). After gyros, we shared rounds of exceedingly cheap alcohol at a local bar (Another 10 bucks out of my pocket), and I suggested we finish that half full bottle of wine back at my newly furnished living room.

It's worth mentioning that I had previously talked about how I had run around doing errands to spruce up this living room, talking about how I had painted the walls, scored a free big screen TV and popcorn maker, it had its own bar with it, and basically sold the shit out of what some have taken to calling "Jurassic Park." Get it? Cuz I'm a T-Rex. I know, clever.

So when I brought it up, it was just sort of a natural "yes, I will go back to your place" because I gave her that plausible deniablity. She could tell her friends "oh, we went back to watch a movie at his place ... and it just happened."

One other thing that's key to notice here is I had now bounced her to four locations: Golden Gate Park, the gyro shop, a bar, and now my living room. What had started as our first date was now turning into a whirlwind tour of four dates, and she was beginning to feel extremely comfortable with me.

We got back to my place, we drank the rest of the bottle of wine, and we started to fool around, as she was getting extremely turned on.

FUCK LMR Or the Actual Field Report of the FR

However, as things were starting to get heated up and clothes were starting to come off, she would stop herself and tell me, very matter of factly, "we're not going to have sex tonight."

Protip: if a girl says exactly that, you are going to have sex that night. As long as you don't screw it up.

Now, I recognized this as the quintessential shit test, and previously, I would have just agreed and amplified.

However, recently, I've been talking to u/PUAcurveball about frames and how you can reframe any sort of conversation along these lines.

So, with that in mind, I simply ask her "why is that?"

She's a little taken aback by my bluntness and tells me that she's had sex with other guys she's liked, and that she likes getting to know someone a bit more if she's interested in them.

I follow up: "so you have had sex with guys the first night you meet them then?"

Her: "Sure, the ones I don't like."

Naturally this inspires teasing. I reply "Well, I'm flattered then." I get her all turned on, stop her, and then say this: "look, we're not going to do anything you don't want to do" and take my hands off her body.

She smiles says "well, we don't have to stop that."

So we get back to it, and sooner or later, the couch is just a little too cramped for two adults to be half naked and fooling around on, so she looks at me and tells me she's uncomfortable in this position.

Me: "Well, what do you want to do?"

Her (grinning): "What do you think we should do?"

I roll my eyes. "Okay, so just we're so clear, you're the one who brought this up."

She smiles.

"There's probably more room in the bed."

We climb into the bed, I have to run to go get some water from the kitchen, and when I come back, she's just in her panties. Once again, I hear the "we're not going to have sex" and I reply the same way: "Like I said, we're not doing anything you don't want to do."

We start fooling around a bit more, she starts getting aggressive, I respond in kind.

Her: "Get a condom, I'm going to fuck the shit out of you."

And she did.

Fuck LMR.