Post: #1

I am going to log approaches 86 -100 if anything interesting happens. Approaches ~ 83-85 are on user purplelake's hundred approach log. Feedback is the whole point of my logging it in here.

Post: #2

The last few days made the last dozen or so approaches for me this year. I will chronicle only the ones that lasted for more than 2 minutes and leave out the flirtations with shop girls, which are mainly for calibrating the smile unit because bosses tend to be cockblockers or bull dyke thespians.

86.I went downtown.

Campbell is the Hoboken to San Jose's New York. Its cute. I went to flip some books at a used bookstore. Clutter sucks so I flip even the good reads. In five years my goal is to have about 10 serious possessions. But enough about me.

After browsing for five minutes, my first approach was a white college age woman wearing a black dress. She was a cute caucasian sensation.

She was staring into space in front of the sports books. I said, "Did you give up on the reading?"

She said, "I'm here to sell. I'm moving."

Open body language, and smiley. No cell phone.

I said, "Oh. I read most of them and trade them too. Are you trying to get rid of any language learning stuff?"

She said, "Unfortunately no. I don't have any."

I said, "I am thinking of traveling to Europe is why I ask oh well. Have you ever been abroad?"

She said,"Yes twice. The usual places. France."

I said, "That's interesting. I like French stuff."

Then the book buyer called her to do their transaction. She was leaving and a bit disappointed that she couldn't get more cash. I propped the door open and pushed my head out to call her saying "Wait."

She stopped. I said, "Thanks for stopping. [Pause, reading her face, she's still cool] I would like the chance to talk [lopsided smile, slight eyebrow cock] to you more."

She goes "Oh...okay."

I get her to jot down her name and phone number.

"Are you sure this is your real number ____ (name)?"

She says, "Yes, it is the same one I gave the book people."

I say, "Would you like to go salsa dancing with me tonight?"

She says, "I would but I am going to lunch with my mom right now."

I say,"Then maybe some other time."

She says, "Yeah." and leaves.

It remains to be seen whether this was her real number. Wish in one hand..

Coffee


87. Hairdresser
Talked about hairstyles for 5 minutes. Easy to talk to so I don't remember much of anything we said. Got her name and workplace. Mutual attraction--I believe hairdressers tend to enjoy sex.

This witch was West coast chic asian in a dress a few extra pounds but one of my types all the same so maybe I'll have to think of a way to weasel into through the work door. I should have asked her if she has ever performed a "twerk curl" hairstyle at her salon.

88. There was a nerdy girl on a laptop getting sucked into one of the faux leather chairs. Her shorts showed okay legs from what I could see.

We talked for about ten minutes about socks. I was pretty smooth and I think I'll return to the "socks" angle again sometime. But I don't fuck with engineers and she was doing a resume or cirriculum vitae or something.

Thank you.

Post: #3

89.[/b]Shopping

I said I wouldn't include shopping, but I believe there were some opportunities at this particular spot. Kinky cute twin sweethearts working there, I'm buying custom underwear.

Used my arm to mimic the size of my junk while I am actually measuring whether my god damn hips will fit in it. Dealing with probably 21-ish girls, everything is sexualized. You can say "in" and they'll see an oil derrick in ze mind's eye. Fifteen minutes of "how big are you?" while her mom's in the back area chrome plating dildos. It was like a John Waters movie.

I have to go back there to buy them out because the underwear feels like vellis hairs nuzzling my crotch. Shit's expensive though.

Salsa/bachata thingamajig

90.There was this doe-like and perky girl that later revealed she was in the fashion designer field. We talked for thirty minutes. It was an English-lite conversation with lots of repetition that wouldn't translate well in this format. But we established ice cream preferences.

Talking over salsa music will turn everyone into a rapper. She didn't mind gentle strokes on the back etc. but had a boyfriend who was going to meet her there. Her english wasn't great enough to determine what level of boyfriend he was. (I don't fuck with LTRs or > without the guy being into some sort of voyeur thing and signing on it.)

Erections lots of weird leaning because I don't want to get the thing chopped of by the momentum of wayward dancers. (My steps are retarded too.)

91. The queen bee

There's an almost-10 that goes here. Red miniskirt with the cutaway circles above the hips. Tall, redheaded and in heels. She has enough girl next-door in her that she can take on the guys with dance swagger.

I said, "Could you show me how to dance this dance?"

She said, "I would but I just changed into these shoes."

She wasn't entirely lying or anything. She wound up switching back to the other shoes by a guy who could competently cut a rug. I watched them while talking to plain girl who had enough makeup and dress acumen to bring her looks up to boner territory.

At this point I was ready for a venue change.

[b]Hipster Bar
92. Four twenty-one year olds, generally plastered and kindly, took pictures with me wearing my favorite sweater. Then they each took a picture of the birthday girl in my favorite sweater. We talked about my Cook/Vigo county adventures.

Wanted to separate the hotina birthday girl on her last night but I was no longer there mentally, and as it would have been logistically harder than splitting a blocker/desirable split near last call at a twelve hour day of chasing random women, it was all catch and release from there.

93.Preface: This is only interesting to me. But as a hail mary when I was talking to the bouncer I asked the two women leaving where they were going. No way of determining whether they were sapphic so Y not?

I asked it in the way I thought clearly said "Fuck or Fight" blocking the door and all, but all this kino is teaching me that you can accidentally dive your head into most chicks' cooter and it's no big deal. Whereas if I hit a single sour note in my words, she gone.

So I followed them to the bike racks and asked them as a group if they would marry me. Its slightly offensive and gets attention. "Which one of us?" the 7 said.

"Well both of you. Alright, gotta be realistic...Let's start with you." I replied to the asker.

"No. I don't think so." she said.

"Well that's one down." I said. "How about you?" to the other.

She's asked where I was from, this whole thing made her sort of hot so she didn't have time to answer. Then she added, " are you like from another country and need to get married or something? Where are you from?"

Okay my nuts hurt now and there's some nuance to it. Her apparent calmness was not what it seemed. Healthy bicycle commuters are calmer when they don't bike due to the endorphin cycle. It was tough to pick up, but this was the in I missed out on.

I sputtered "Yugo-Yugoslavia. Yes I need to marry one of you to stay."

She half-nodded and responded. "I don't think so." Maybe its just me, but if I she wasn't a lesbian ( who knows) I could have---oh, that's it. I shoulda woulda coulda asked if she was lesbian as my next question. I need a tattoo, NIGHT GAME GO DIRECT.

Thank you.

Note: This week's catches all seem to be in transit, like students moving in or out of town. To bypass some of the follow-up claptrap involving text/phone, there's gotta be a better way to do that without getting arrested for public sex and put on a registered sex offender list. (I'd rather jerk off for my entire life than be a registered sex offender.)nSuggestions?

Note: A recurring problem with the yoga of unexpected muldoons. I arch forward and back and next thing I know I am leaning in. I hope that isn't a hard-fast universal rule. If so I will need to tape it down. Or suggestions.

Post: #4

Gym

94. There's a 7 who is a fan of a football team at the gym. Being a fan of that team is an entire thug life identity but she she has a model's body. I approach during the day and we talk about her hair for five minutes. She looks like she could be my sister. I let the conversation die.

BOOOS Maroon Lodge alcoholics writers club, NIGHT

I am suited in a pressed, two button Brooks Brothers, med. dark brindle suit, white shirt, red tie. I look like an ectomorph with maybe a little bit more meat.

95. Two drunk blonde, a 6 and 7, start singing to 'Fever' on the juke box. One's back is to me. The other I can see. She is wearing a ski cap and looks okay. I jumped up and stated, "When I was a stripper this was my song."

Ski cap says, "Take it off."

I start swaying a bit and unbuttoning the shirt. I have both their attention for maybe thirty seconds. Then they go back to talking. This bar is far too dark to see pupils dilating or anything detailed. Being pushy is a no-no because the bartender is in one of my allied lodges.

I go back to drinking, and one of the Zero Hedge authors comes in and provides us all with travel stories. I take a turn and realize that I am pretty hammered. This is not good.

A half an hour after my first talk to them, to my surprise the blonde I saw less of beckons me over to take stool between the two of them. In my mind, I'm like, "Oh boy, Shaggy". But I say, looking at the two of them, "Are you guys freemasons?"

The one who beckoned me over goes, "What did you say? Freebasin'?"

Let's just say these sorrority girls did not enjoy that line of questioning. So I went back to my stool and continued talking about unions and new moves like felching with the lovely and talented bartender as well as Zero Hedge.

The bar scene is killing me. But the ultra lounge scene is like a billion bucks. I think bowling alleys are next.

Post: #5

Local Mall-bookstore

96. A reporter told me to check out the Foreign Affairs article about shanzai. But when I got to the mall bookstore it was ten minutes to close. I approached a young woman, an 8, in a classic rock band shirt near the poetry books.

After five minutes of being articulate about books, I got her phone number so we could meet for coffee. This neighborhood has a lot of hotinas, but most of them are underage or married with kids at the age of 20. My approachee might be 17.

Post: #6

I did three yesterday. One was improved. As much as I relish stroking it in an echo chamber, I'm not picking up any feedback. Hooray to the Mexican marines for capturing Trevino of the Zetas. Good start.

Fuck that Tsaranev human hemorrhoid.

Post: #7

Last night was fascinating and I've had too much coffee so I'll share. I get off at midnight and the bar closes at 1:30. This gives me an hour at peak drunk times to fuck or fight.

The bar has an okay ratio and some really nice lookers. I waited until a group of 4 girls and one guy who looked like Charlie's Angels plus attache to recon. I guess I should add that after long analysis my type might be considered pretty-boy. It's something I never wanted to recognize because it makes me gay bait.

I approached the five top with its two redheads and two blondes and I mean perfect scores all around and dressed suggestively. I pulled a Gavin McInness and went for the sex-laced, group speculation banter. In terms of conversation and light kino it worked. I walked up to one of those tall round tables with the tall stools.

To the one looking I said, "This team looks like an all-girl rock supergroup comprised of nothing but strippers (and their manager)?"

She looks like she might want to punch me in the nuts, but l added. :That's a compliment". She repeated it to the group and I got a baby's arm holding an apple that wouldn't quit.



The cute girl who wound up monopolizing the discussion with me had some really interesting features and a lot of red flags. I got the digits but couldn't follow them home because I am very resistant to break with the manners I was brought up with. The one I got the digits of was a dynamite Irish-American sweet heart who intend to wear as a hat. I'll go as far as saying bold honesty works if and when she returns a text.
{Maybe part of the trick was that they looked sort of twenty-something, which made them not yet snarkmonsters and the group drunkenness helped} My social skills are improving, thanks Roosh. Hypothesis here is that pretty is, as pretty does or the cult of beauty hypothesis. Although that might be a bit subjective. Well, gotta go. Mom's home.

Post: #8

Follow-up to above: nothing happened. I am pretty sure the Temperance Society sibyls are onto me. I have to find a way to go Angela Davis now.

Post: #9

I like how you write Captain. Funny.

Post: #10

Thanks, Dusty. If we can't laugh every once in a while than what's the point?

Continuing with 100 approaches:

Approaches 98-105 or so occurred during a weekend road trip to Los Angeles.

August 10-12. So much of it was driving. Didn't sleep much. It was a classic Cheech n' Chong boondoggle from start to finish because I brought my disabled brother. I even had him do an approach at Panera (thanks, El Mechanico). Yes, I found something for L.A. men too.

The trip revolved around a screening of "How to be a Man" at the Sundance Next Weekend festival.The highlight of the movie is an male-to-female oral sex instruction that might have been a not-so-subtle parable for the structure of nightclub game in Williamsburg New York or not. I disregard subtlety from women because "I may want to fuck you" is that tango between rape and animal attraction. But the movie was probably about the two levels, animal and social.

Look at me going on and on about a movie. The Sundance theater is a nice discovery. I did two solid approaches with my brother in tow because its a chill clubhouse for pretty people. Cineastes and neighborhood people are indistinguishable there but I talked to a sweet coug and a marketing chick. It was Day game banter, twenty minutes or so a piece. I had trouble with those vital negs because the logistics were crappy. (Brother and I didn't realize we'd have such a deluxe room at the San Vicente Inn.) I give props to L.A.'s West Hollywood people. They're like French women (sacre couer) but look like normal dudes. Clearly I don't know how to give respect to gay dudes.

Starbucks, very sweet Latvian chick with an epic ass, approach went down too. It's funny she looked exactly like Tuesday Weld who I was only talking about online a day or two ago which is either synchronicity, synecdoche, or spying. Don't look up synecdoche, its from abnormal psychology.

If you have twenty bucks and are driving south stop at the Madonna Inn's coffee shop if you want to see very enticingly packaged waitresses. The servers wear those Sound of Music dresses that resemble bustles with a flowing part. The chicks there are St. Pauly's girl fantasies. The lightest possible flirting with one of the waitresses I wanted to neck with more than anyone in the world would have been a pretty darn good flag.

Post: #11

~105. Firm jelly roll chain dragger was going into a Mountain View coffee shop around sunset time. Tasteful skirt, built like an updated Reubens painting.

Me: "Hey." She disconnects her pod ears and looks up at me. Not a soft look, but not completely vacant. So I can work with that. "You remind me of someone, oh don't tell me...(pause) but now I don't remember."

Her:"I don't think I've met you."

Me:"Yeah, now that I get a really good look at you, I'm not sure. But hey this song sucks and we're talking so we might as well continue for a minute. Hang on a sec--"

I felt baked yesterday, sort of like an itchy, dehydrated everything is amplified feeling all over. The guy mumbling to his date behind me was making it hard to concentrate so I switched around like 90 degrees in front of her.

I had an erection and I am intimidatingly equipped. It is well-regarded as a WMD in most United Nation publications in fact. I couldn't tell if she noticed so I ignored my pants.

Me: (continuing) " Did I interrupt anything?"

Her: "Well I was kind of working on--"

Me:"Are you Spanish?" I don't know how this came up. She was somewhere in the color range between honey and maple syrup.

Her: "No. I am Native American and Latina."

Me:"That's great. I loved 'Dances with Wolves' you know 'Tutankah'. But, uh, what sort of work do you do?"

Her: "I work full time as an art administrator and am applying for an internship."

Me: "Oh. I love the arts. I work in a different field now but I used to rock the house."

Her: "Yeah..I should get back to what I was working on."

Me: "So soon?"

Her: "I've had a long day and am only 3/4 through."

Me: "I understand. I finished work today and [this was actually true] and was about to head over to salsa, er no I mean barchata lessons. You ever done that?"

Her:"No."

Me: "You should try it some time. It's like breakdancing on ice skates."

Her: (slight giggle-chuckle but not a really great one) "Yeah, I probably wouldn't have time soon."

Me: "Okay. Maybe though, have you ever done any acting?"

Her: "No."

Me: "Would you like to? (pause) I don't have anything right away. But sometime I think I could get together something micro-budget--you know, small cast Indie." (conversation is dying)

Her:" Uh-huh. Well I guess I'll see you."

I insist on hand shake and name exchange. That was it. She was, you know, voluptuous and I hate to see that type go. A bitch possibly, but probably legitimately busy with her cirriculum. Suggestions?

Post: #12

I've done about 15 more approaches since then.

My favorite recent one had me in the Fillmore district of SF. A girl was leaving an ATM wearing a sun dress and sunglasses. She was cute.

I said, "Please help hide me by pretending to be with me. I am being followed by an Indonesian transexual."

It appeared as if everywhere I turned I was being followed by the bald member of a male-to-female transexual duo.

She said "Okay."

I said "Isn't this a strange era we live in?"

She said. "Yeah."

Then I jabbered on about pet-sized dogs and the moderate summer followed by an Indian summer. It sucked as a pickup performance but I am finally getting over my reaction to an old rule about using the street as a meeting ground.

Post: #13

No$y

It was in the summer of 2006 directly after an extended stay in Portland, and after a trip to New York wherein unlikely circumstances lead me to enroll in Cosmetology school for a month. I wasn’t thinking about sex, honest. I’d got a special deal with the state government in California. I don't remember all that much about beauty school but one of the guys in the administration there looked like Wayne Newton. That's where I met No$y.

She was sitting in my chair, in the middle of the 80% young ladies around me reading a book I'd brought to read during lunch. I'd noticed her a little bit before but mainly the outrageous hairdo chicks got my interest because everyone wore those white shroud things.

The book was an instructional picture book by Dick Smith for doing horror movie makeup. She was intrigued. She looked like sort of mousy, and had a high-pitched voice. She had a little bit of acne which I was to learn was from her many months of cramming to finish high school. Well, also she took tons of drugs (X etc.) and didn't get much sleep.

She had a banging body though. Slender, but not bony her streamlined waist led to a hot, pear-peach type ass. She looked like Minnie Mouse with blond hair and shagged like a rabbit.

No$y was about 5’6” and she was getting into the Dutch rockabilly band Nekromantix. I think she was trolling a shockabilly group from Santa Cruz too.

I was living in an apartment with a male Filipino nurse who tried to get me to get down with him for rent. Luckily a gig stacking shelves at Petshart after hours paid the $500 a month for my room (how things have changed from 2006!). After haunted house work one day, I cleaned up smoked a cigarette I was done with that haunted house, andI took her with my brother, wheelchair one, and her friend to see a midnight movie with some hilarious drag queen wraparounds performed on stage Rocky Horror Picture show style. The film was John Waters’ “Desperate Living”…one of my favorites.

As the lights were going down, I proclaimed aloud "I'm the best f**kin' f**k in the whole f***in' world". (a line ripped from Blag Dahlia of the Dwarves). I don't think that was too unethical, or whatever, maybe I got some karma later.

I was still figuring out this text message bullshit that passes for foreplay today with No$y and we ended up breaking up because I blew up her phone with bad text game.

But we had sex about 8 times, probably about 40 hours of sex total. She was good at the physical stuff but her personality was sort of like a dude and she was banging the rest of the Lakers on the side which gave me herpes.

I could have had a FFM threesome for the third time in this life with her and that friend with the French name. I helped her move a cabinet into her summer place in San Francisco and took her on our second date. This shit was sort of lame. We went to the Tiki extravaganza bar in San Francisco. I think she wore jeans and a t-shirt to it. And she was unusually devoid of any sensation merely operating on reptilian reserve energy.

I’m not bitter about anything, her sex habits, I mean at least No$y was punctual. She probably went on to work for Paul Mitchell salons or something flashy, all in all my run-in with New Wave feminism left me with genital warts that only went away about 15 months ago though. I was never given a warning about that.

She also didn’t give much indication that she was playing by some sort of player rule book that I could study and learn from. So I dropped out of school in the middle of the braiding lessons, got a Prince Albert through my perineum and fell off my bicycle onto my head to forget her. I should stayed through the training and banged my way through the future hairdressers of America.

I guess on balance its sort of cool that some women will bang for pizza. But if our equipment fit, which it did, I feel, with a bit more time we could have become teammates in something bigger.

I saw a follow-up image of No$y and she grew her hair out and lost her acne. But the warts, do those come back or what?

Post: #14

A. Accidentally ran into an attractive-ish woman while thrift shopping. I started into socializing with an elderly feminist who was telling me her life story. I used her as a wingman to draw in a feminist who was probably an 8 or 9 but the looks of her bedbugs or something.

This reminded me of Tuthmosis's recent article. I talked to her about 10 minutes about books, way in the back of my mind imagining her body perhaps riddled with bed bug bites but she was otherwise bangable. When it came time to phone number exchange I vied for social networking connection just this once for giggles. It was a thoughtless move that blew an otherwise promising encounter.

B. Hit on wine bar hostess at hotel bar. She was good at day game though it was night. The resulting confusion, some weaknesses in adapting to sudden change, killed my chances. This sort of is recursive throughout my experiences. It may have to do with "bitch shield" but is probably best handled as if it is a bitch shield even if it isn't.

Post: #15

(07-16-2013 03:28 PM)Captain Caveman Wrote:  Gym

94. There's a 7 who is a fan of a football team at the gym. Being a fan of that team is an entire thug life identity but she she has a model's body. I

raiders? I guess it could be another team, (maybe saints? dunno)