The thing that orbiters have to deal with or, rather, the purpose they serve most of the time is listening, watching, breathing and imbibing the bipedal Vanity Fair which is their source of gravitational pull.

"Hey, I was at XY place and bought these leggings!", followed by posing her legs and ass and cockteasing. And guess what? You ain't getting none of what's underneath the mentioned clothing. So you mumble: "T-they're g-great" while swallowing spit. Or maybe joke and tease her, unnecesarrily, since she will put the leash back on you the moment you cross the line.

"I got an A / My boss congratulated me on [something irrelevant]" - "Wow, that's soo greeeaaat!" or any other sentence that will open a torrent of details and superficial information you're willing to enthusisastically listen to just because there's a marginal statistical chance you may brush her boob in transit if you hang out with her long enough.

Dressing, make-up and hairstyles that need your constant attention, your enamoured gaze at her curls, with a wave of depression washing over when you realize that the Stud™ she's constantly ranting and crying to you about will pull and mess up that hair, smear the make-up and probably jizz on those cute clothes because he doesn't give a flying fuck.

Now imagine a man you can't stand. A douchebag, a successful but unbearably arrogant coworker or a business rival doing the analogous thing. Why "a man you can't stand"? Because she is not your friend nor your sister and least your girflriend - there is no reciprocity. You are a downtrodden Chinese labourer meant to provide a 14 hour shift in exchange for a cup of rice. A faithful guard dog awarded only with bones left after Master's feast.

"Look at this tie I bought at XY for 200 dol-" "I don't give a fuck."

"I got a promotion!" "Congratulations." "Yeah, I've always known that complimenting the HR-" "I don't give a fuck."

"Heeey, my man, what's up?" "Hey." "You know blablabla" "I'm working right now."

If you are not getting anything out of exchange with another person change your game or leave. Being a bottom bitch who feeds on dreams and fantasies will leave you milked dry and starved to death. Or eventually as a provider to used and abused goods, in which case, good luck.

edit: after some negative feedback in the comments, let me be more precise: THIS POST IS AIMED AT ORBITERS. Of course you can chit-chat with women (or people in general) about everyday stuff. But if you recognize that you are being used, change that situation or "gg no re". That's was my point.

Example for "being used": I had a female "friend" who considered it normal that I invite her to my place for lunch - she showed up when the cooking was finished and barged out 15 minutes after she finished eating because she had "scheduled" a beer with some guy. No help with cleaning, not even a simple conversation afterwards. I have homebrewed beer in my fridge, so that's also not a problem. That was the last time she ate at my place. I helped her with some business project of hers a few months ago, she said she owes me dinner. I'm still waiting for it. But now she won't get a second of my time for doing stuff she is paid to do. When she's talking, I listen. When I'm talking, she is tapping on her smartphone. The second time she did that, I cut the communication. Now the phone isn't in sight when I have something to say. When she showed me some shoes she bought, I said they are cute and joked with her for a bit. When she annoyed me a few days afterwards with the same shoes, expecting more compliments, when it was clear I'm not in the mood, I said: "I don't give a fuck." Interestingly (well, not really, if you've read the sidebar), that only makes her more flirtatious - the next thing she said was (we were in the gym): "Are my tights see-through?" while stretching her glutes; so if they are see-through, the first thing I'll see is her vagina. She has a boyfriend and I'm not interested into her, so, as I see it, she wants me as a validation ATM and a free provider of material goods. In the wise words of Lord Blackadder: "Sod off."

Plain and simple.