In all honesty, I didn’t plan to do approaches on New Year’s Eve. My plan was to jump to bars I first visited when initially moving to Milwaukee. It was to serve as a representation of turning a new leaf by dedicating myself to the art of game. I went from Mcgillicuddy -> Taylor’s -> This Is It and finally -> Victor’s.
However, opportunities presented themselves and with my spontaneous openers, I was able to secure two make-outs with different girls in separate groups.
Approach #1: After leaving Mcgillicuddy, I decided to visit Taylor’s where I ran into a 6-set: Five girls (four were lesbians and fat) and an absolute soy boy. Overweight. Beard. Glasses. Pretty much what you’d expect when you envision a male feminist. However, one of the girls was a cute redhead (soft HB 7). She resembled a young Ruth Connell sporting a white low-cut skirt and top.
I found the 6-set outside of Taylor’s while smoking a cigarette. A fat lesbian sporting a dyke haircut holding it’s gf close welcomed me into her social circle with open arms. Why? I played it off by saying I’m “bi, but leaning straight” in order to gain her trust – and consequently, that of her group. Immediately, I started gaming the redhead. She was the “workhorse” of the SC. Every time the dykes wanted a drink, needed to go out for a smoke, etc they’d send her off to fetch shit or follow them around like an obedient puppy.
A girl who didn’t know how to say no and was weak-willed? Great set with plenty of opportunities.
While my target was fetching booze for the circle of dykes, I managed to slip away momentarily. She was turned around, futilely trying to call the bartender who was handling dozens of bar patrons. Before she managed to grab his attention, however, I tapped her on the shoulder. As she turned around, I smiled warmly and told her to come dance.
NOTE: Chase Amante talks about commanding girls. That they’d listen. He was fucking spot on.
Without hesitation, I took my target by the hand and guided her to the dance floor. She wasn’t an aggressive dancer and followed my lead as booming EDM filled the club. It was innocent at first. My hands pressed against her hips as we swayed to the beat. Eventually, I started exploring her ass. She didn’t protest. I took it as a signal to escalate further. Without any resistance on her part, my hands squeezed her tits.
I had to keep it up. Thankfully, my alcohol level was high enough to stem any hesitation on my end. I flipped my target around and expressing my sexual intent, I fixed my gaze onto hers. She smiled softly before I pulled her close and went for the kiss. She returned my kiss with enthusiasm. We made out for 5 minutes before I led her back to her friends.
That’s when the dyke began to expect something. For some inexplicable reason, she began to catch onto my ruse that I wasn’t bi. She started asking me questions like, “Oh yeah? Like, what sort of guys are you into?” Uhhh… I responded simply with, “Twinks.” She outwardly appeared to believe my answer.
In any other case, I had to use the restroom. After I returned, I lost them in the nightclub. I was able to find them an hour later, but by that time, I believed any passion between the redhead and I fizzled out in the night.
I should have just jumped back into set. Something I need to remember for next time.
Approach #2: A few hours into the early morning (2 or 3 AM maybe?), after chatting up numerous strangers, I ran into this isolated white girl. She was cute, about a soft HB 6. Not as hot as the redhead, but bangable. She had brunette hair, was short, but didn’t sport the same naivety my last target had.
My game wasn’t on-point, but it passable. Barely. I ran into her a few occasions at the club, but we exchanged short conversations that didn’t go anywhere. After my last encounter with her, I told her to come dance while her friends got shit-faced drunk. She accepted my offer and I led her onto the dance floor.
Unfortunately, after getting spoiled by my last set, I escalated faaaaar too quickly. I mean, I tried sticking my hands down her pants, but she pulled me off. I didn’t try to escalate again once she responded negatively to my advances. We made out, but she was a terrible kisser. That, or her mouth was too tiny.
Her response after I led her back to the bar? “I’m sorry, I need to find my friends. Don’t worry. It’s not you, it’s me.” She repeated the whole “Don’t worry, it’s not you, it’s me” multiple times before she ejected out of the set.
Overall, it was a great night. I ran into my newbie pick-up buddies at Victor’s again. Great guys. One of them actually started approaching much to my satisfaction. I remember telling them, “I preach the gospel of game to nerds, guys who are terrible with women, because I don’t want them to go through the same psychological torment I went through when I was terrible with women.”