Alright, so what you're about to read has recently happened to me and has nothing to do with girls. So if you're looking for gaming advice, this is not the post you're seeking. This has to do with a broader and more general truths about how people are driven by the visual.

So I'm working at a branch of a big company in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Every month, I have to submit an invoice at the main building in the city for my salary to be legally trasnferred to my bank account and that kind of bullshit. So I worked at this company for two months now, which means that I submitted my invoice the first time and everything went fine. It went something like this.

I looked pretty decent on that day. I wore a casual T-shirt, shorts, sunglasses, and a typically-looking shoe. I went inside the room wherein I'm supposed to fill the invoice and submit it to the person responsible and it was your typical administrative working place. Several cubicles with a handful of bureaucrats with their spectacles on clicking and typing on their machines.

So I step into the room, and luckily I see a familair face: a colleague of mine. I politely smile and say, "Hello :)" and everyone working there stopped whatever the fuck they were doing, gave me a quick neutral look, and went back doing their jobs. Nothing spectacular, I'm not complaining, everything's cool.

I sat down and my familair-faced colleague helped me filling the invoice cuz it's my first time then she had to leave and assigned someone else. This someone else helps me further and everything went alright. I thank them then I take my leave.

Now, shifting our attention to my second visit. I've been on monk mode for about 3 weeks now. I've experienced weight loss, muscle gains, meditating everyday, no porn... you know the drill. I've been feeling amazing for the past 3 days until today after I visited them.

This time, to get my cardio for the day, I went to the building on my bike. I was dressed in my shitty old sports sneakers, normal nylon black shorts, and a shirt I bought from Sweden with "Goteberg" written on it and a big symbol. I didn't shave for two weeks, nor did I get a haircut cuz I don't really need to, and my face was glowing because of sweat. I should say, sweat aside, I looked decent enough.

I step in and say, "Hello :)", and JEsUs fuCKIng ChrIST. Everyone looks at me and frowns with their eyebrows contracted to form an upside arc, you know what I mean. They didn't say anything, but they looked at each other like "What the fuck's this guy doing here?" It's true I had my beard on, but it wasn't that untamed. It's light and barely covering my cheeks and chin. My hair wasn't that messy either. I brushed it before I go out. My shirt isn't that ugly. Probably my sneakers? I have no fucking clue. But here's when it gets interesting.

One worker stands off her desk and asks me, "How can I help you?"

"Ahm? I'm here to submit my invoice?" I replied with a "wtf?" face on.

"Do you work at [name of the company]?" she inquired, which I found so fucking weird because I recognized her and so she did.

"Yes, I do?" I said.

"Ah, I see, which department?"

"[name of my branch]"

"Okay, do you know how to fill the invoice?" (cuz it's in a different language than mine)

"Yes, I do, but I might need some help with some details," I said.

She looks at her colleague who looks back at her and then forms a 😬 face and then tells me, " I don't think we can help you with that".

It gets awkward for a few minutes. I just keep looking at them not saying a word.

He adds, "We're not supposed to help you with that kind of things".

"I'm sorry, but I'm at the taxation section of the building, correct? How comes you can't help me? You did last time".

They both go silent and look at each other. Then I just say,"I'm sorry, what's going on exactly? You're making this whole thing feels weird. I'm just submitting my monthly invoice to get my salary?"

They say nothing.

"Alright, whatever. I'll fill it by myself".

I sit down and tried to squeeze my mind to fill this fucking invoice like I did last time. After I finished, I asked the dickhead mentioned above to give me a stamp, because it's needed for the invoice. He smiles and says," I don't where it is".

I look at him not saying a word.

A few seconds later, he stands up and asks a colleague who shows him where the stamps are.

He gives me the stamp and it's dry af. I ask him to bring the ink and put it in. He saidit's okay, just stamp the invoice and you'll be done. The stamp looked like shit but I did it anyways. It kinda got on my nerves.

I take the invoice to another worker there and give him the invoice and he points out two mistakes. The question is, why didn't he help me to fill the fucking invoice in the beginning? I shut my mouth lest I'll get into trouble, I correct them, I give it to them, and just left without saying a fucking word.

I need to mention that during all of this interaction, they were all disgusted. Legit disgusted. They spoke to me with air of "You're not supposed to be here, get the fuck out already" and barely paid attention to me.

So guys, lesson learnt today, don't expect people to respect you if you look like shit. Taking care of yourself will ease your life a great deal. I'm writing this cuz I've experienced it several times during my blue-pilled day but never got the reason. See, humans are driven by the visual. They say that one picture contains hundred words, and it's true. Just by looking at a cup of coffee, for example, you can tell the color of the cup, whether it's hot or cold depending on the steam coming out of it, the type of the coffee, aaaand so on and so forth. When it comes to people, I guess there are only a few details to notice after taking a glance at someone: is he rich/poor? Is he taking care of him/herself? (hence healthy functioning individual) Does he deserve my respect? In just one second.