Game and Me

So I am a fan of the modern American study of “Game” as exemplified by people such as Roissy, Neil Strauss, and Roosh V.

However, up till now I have not really applied their principles, principally because of one thing: much of their game amounts to how to meet a woman, gain her number, and go out with with (cheaply, of course) her and get to her to let you bang you easily and with little drama—turning them into easy lay fuck buddies that you have for a few month periods. The key to these systems is numbers; get as many girls as you can, and then use game to make sure you have a possible lay every night of the week. Of course, these guys also engage in one-night stands and have girls go home wiht them on the first time, but usually this only after they are proficient at game big time—and usually then not a lot.

These guys are studs, no question about it.  Their techniques work—I’ve seen it happen in NYC first hand—and they nearly always bang quality girls.

The problem with me is: pure laziness and desire for instant gratification.

This article from pretty much explains my mindset. Basically, because media—porn, regular teen sex comedies, regular movies, cable TV, and even network TV—has lied to me about how easy a lay should be, I now have a short tolerance for how long it should take for me to get laid from a woman. I feel like I should be able to walk into a bar, point out a woman, and be in her bed by the time the sun rises.

When this doesn’t happen, and I have the money, I take the easy route and grab a hooker.

Compounding this fact (in addition to the false hopes college brought to me) are my looks. I have been told by many, many women that I am very attractive. I’m no George Clooney, but women have walked up to me at bars and bought me drinks without my saying a word to them. As a result, I have been spoiled as to getting laid; its just been too easy. So a system where it requires me to resort to walking up to women—-and expecting only a phone number or makeout, as opposed to a full on fuck party that night—seems like a step back (even though it isn’t). So, again, a hooker—better looking, better in bed usually—is an easy way out.

So there is my dilemma: I know game works, I know that the college experience was misleading, and I know its a number’s game. However, though my mind knows this, my emotion still harkens back to the easy lays of college; the women approaching me; and the safety of a hooker lay.

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