CasanovaThis is a piece of my London dating history that most people would probably prefer to remove from their memories. Not me though. You will understand what I mean in a bit, but before that I want you to think about the least attractive woman you’ve ever been with. No, prostitutes don’t count. No, not that one, you’ve been with uglier. YES – THAT ONE. Remember it, envision it and think about how you felt the morning after having sex together. You are probably giving yourself an excuse right now that it was because you were drunk blah-blah-blag. Don’t. There is no need. Accept that if you managed to maintain a boner for a girl for more than 5 min, there was at least some part of her that you found attractive.
Also, understand that in order to have standards, you have to have choice (or even better – abundance). And sometimes, the quickest route there is to suffer the consequences of lacking choice or abundance. By that I don’t mean staying at home and jacking yourself off into oblivion 5 hours straight as this is a brain-simulation of actual sex and you are most certainly watching videos that arouse you. No by that I mean actually bedding a woman that you would not show pictures of to your friends. Not saying this will work the same for everybody, but there are certainly life lessons to be learned from it. It both gives you the motivation to do better (especially if you feel you’ve found your bottom, which for me definitely was the case), while it also shows you how committed you are to your own success. It may sound very contradictory, but for me it was definitely an experience that marked my way to letting go of any pre-conceived notions of what I’d be capable of doing when I set my mind on a goal.
Pep-talk aside, it really wasn’t much of a story. There was this girl I had chatted on some dating app that lived fairly far away from me, but seemed super eager. She told me I can go meet her over there as she cannot travel for whatever stupid reason it was. We talked on the phone and she sounded both guarded and super-suspicious. Normal people under circumstances like that would back off straight away, but I decided I’m gonna make an adventure out of it. Long story short, I told her I’ll be at hers with the last train I can catch from London. I went to play some poker, got myself sociably hammered and after an hour embarked in the borough of Buttville (or whatever the hell she used to live). I knew this was gonna be too much to handle while completely sober, but I also didn’t want to numb myself to the point that I don’t remember anything from the night, so I got a bottle of wine and a small bottle of whisky from the local convenience store, just in case.
The girl who wasn’t very attractive on the pictures had also obviously added some more weight recently, which did not make me one bit happier. I was at the point of no return though, so decided to make the most out of it. So here I am, sitting with this 10-kilo overweight late 20’s brunette and her 60+ year old landlady, drinking wine in the living room of the first floor of their Victorian house in Buttville. There are at least 3 cats around and I already plot multiple devious ways on how to amuse myself while slightly mistreating them, when it hit me that the same attitude would do wonders if applied to the early stages of male-female relations.
On the bright side, I was treated like a king – they made me few different snacks, poured out the fancy liquor and were constantly competing to give compliments of my body and style, now that I had undergone some considerable improvements in the last couple of months. At some point the girl disappeared and came back with full make up on and night club attire. I was gonna tell her we weren’t gonna go anywhere, but as soon as I opened my mouth I realized she just prettied herself up in the most blatant possible manner, so as to keep me from leaving (by that stage I had not said anything about staying or going, just kept drinking and having casual conversations). Soon after midnight, the landlady retreated and it was me and the girl.
I now understood how beauty products, alcohol and dim lighting can have a profoundly improving effect on a woman’s appearance. She definitely seemed f*ckable from that angle. She was moving in closer and closer and I was pushing back playing hard to get (weird notion, considering that I was the one way out of my side of town with no transportation until the early morning, but such is the power of perceived value). I could see that her insecurity in wether I liked her or not had made her even hornier so at some point she could not resist it any longer and just sat on my lap and started kissing me. She led me inside her bedroom and in the next hour or so I got to experience what Redman and MethodMan referred to as “more pushin’ for the coushin”. I had never seen a girl as wet and horny as she was before that and although I wasn’t super excited, it was clear to me that she was having the time of her life. She came like 3 times in the first 5 minutes and we actually had to take a break, as she started hyperventilating. The rest of that night is more or less a blur. My last memory of that house is the morning after, where myself and the 3 sons of the landlady, each of whom brought a chick back home from the local pub, were all rotating to take a shower. It was both disgusting and hilarious at the same time, the type of thing that makes you simultaneously question and appreciate the mundanity of everyday life.
I felt surprisingly well after that night. In retrospection, I can see I definitely punched under my weight at the time, but my willingness to study attraction creation was so strong that it threw me into making some fairly questionable decisions, which also led to some of the weirdest experiences in my life. At the end of the day however, one thing became crystal clear to me. I had to do everything possible, so I never ever end up in a situation, where my only sexual choices are limited to fat girls in the other side of town. Once I realized and wholeheartedly accepted this very simple truth, I could now use it as a scarecrow against taking massive action at every possible moment. Scared to talk to that chick in the tube? Remember the alternative. Worried about approaching those two chicks at the bar? No problem, take another ticket to Buttville. Too afraid to ask a pretty girl out? Fair enough, there is plenty of ugly chicks that will take you etc etc. From that moment onwards, I started to gradually improve the quality of girls I was courting, which in turn helped me to also gradually improve the quality of girls I was sleeping with. I read somewhere that you will only learn your true value, after you sell yourself really short and that resonated with me very deeply in this moment of my life. I never saw or talked to the girl after that night, but I won’t forget the role she played (albeit unwillingly) in my journey towards self-discovery as a man.