So, it's been around 7 years since I've been in an LTR. I've been focusing on my career and banging hookers to get by.

A few years ago I finally got the nice car, house, cash in the bank and enough experience that I can walk into any similar job in my field. So, I thought I'd start to work on the next milestone in the blue pill life plan, getting an LTR that will hopefully lead to marriage and kids.

After getting back on the horse, I realised my game had gotten weak. So, I started looking online for tips on text game and discovered TRP and the manosphere. After reading about AF/BB and AWALT I realised I've seen this all before and remembered every single girl I have ever known cheated and did all the AWALT shit that TRP describes. Was this confirmation bias? Maybe?

Anyway, I swallowed the red pill and started working out and practising game. I started going out every Friday and Saturday night. I'm 6"1, in good shape and dress to impress on a night out so thought I had a decent shot. I started to get better at game, I could approach without fear, hold a conversation, escalate etc. I had a handful of dates that didn't really lead anywhere and managed to scrape 2 ONS in two years (one fatty and one chunky). So, I wasn't slaying at all, but my confidence was increasing and I had enough "success" in my mind to convince myself that this was working and I had to just keep trying.

After a while I had a social circle with whom I genuinely enjoyed going out and socialising with. I am a normal functioning human after all! I'm not where I want to be but am really close, I can smell it. I started to get comfortable, I started thinking NAWALT, maybe TRP is a cult and how could I be so foolish to get sucked in. Even though I have more than a few friends and relatives who have been destroyed by divorce, I started to doubt that the game is rigged.

So, last weekend I ended up at my old university with a few friends. We thought it would be a good idea to get one drink at the university bar and then continue on with our night as usual. One drink led to another and we ended up staying there for a while. I was working my charm and chatting to loads of people that night and was having a good time. Around 3am, I had gotten blindingly drunk and my friends had all gone home. I went out on the balcony of the bar for one last cigarette before going home.

Outside was one of the groups I had been talking to that night. We continued chatting and laughing and then I finished my smoke and said goodbye. On my way out, one of the girl's from the group followed me and stopped me. I can't remember exactly what she said but she asked me if I thought she was fat, attractive or looked good in her outfit or some shit like that; It was shit test, I remember that much. My reply was something like "I don't know, I'm going home". As I was walking away, she shouted "did you call me fat?"

I had gotten to the door and some guy comes up to me and says "did you call that girl fat". I said, "I don't think so, I'm on my way out". He then says "that's my girlfriend" and starts pushing me and trying to provoke me to hit him. I said "I'm not looking for trouble mate, you must have me mistaken for someone else" and continued walking off. He followed me and started shouting at me and pushing me. People started to gather around and asking what's going on, then one guy in the crowd says "he called that girl fat". And then crowd starts cheering on the guy to hit me.

One of the bar staff intervened and kicked the guy out. I'm now surrounded by a bunch of uni students saying that I shouldn't call a girl fat. I walk out of the bar and get outside and the boyfriend is out there with a lynch mob. He starts shoving me again and shouting shit, surrounded by a mob cheering him on. The whole time he never once swung a punch, I'm guessing he wanted me to draw first blood. The bouncers grabbed us and told us to go our separate ways, which we did.

Some of the lynch mob was following me, they caught up to me and stopped me. I thought, fuck I can't believe this isn't over yet. They started saying that I shouldn't call a girl fat. I told them that I didn't and all of this is a misunderstanding. They then said it doesn't matter what I meant, even if i was joking or being ironic. Then one guy clocks me in the face, I didn't even see who, and then I start shouting "who the fuck hit me". Then the crowd disperses and I continued walking home.

I was stopped again by someone who was following me. This time it's by the guy who hit me, I didn't know at the time because I never saw who it was. This guy was some tiny fucking man child, must of been around 18/19 years old tops, no wonder I couldn't see him or barely felt the punch. He asked me why I called the girl fat and said I should turn around, go back and apologise. I told him that's not going to happen and I'm going home. We were arguing for a while and then he says if I don't go back to apologise he'll hit me again. This whiteknight's small guy syndrome was unreal. I then got pissed off and asked why he hit me, and he asked why I called the girl fat. This was going no where. By this point, it was just the two us of in the dark, on some back street where no one would see us; he realised and started to back off. I asked him if he knew the couple or if he was there, he said he was walking by and saw the commotion and thought he'd get involved. This fucking whiteknight cuck didn't even know who's honour he was defending. At that point I said to him, I'm close to where I live and I'm going home and he should do the same. He walked away and that was the end of it.

I wake up the next day thinking what the fuck happened last night. I can't believe failing a shit test escalated to that point. The familiar gut-punch of pain and confusion is back, hello old friend. Now I'm MGTOW for life, no more relapses. Chasing pussy is just not fucking worth it.

That night has been creeping into my thoughts all week. Hopefully, getting this off my chest here will help. Thanks guys for taking the time to read my story.