FR: Peacocking, Romanian Gymnast, and Birdshit.

[Lord_Byron]

Aright Yall, this is my first FR, it was from a while ago, right after I finished reading The Game and was turned back on to the PUA community.

A harrowing semester at my overly difficult university had come to an end, so I borrowed my roommate Chris’ car, and I dove my friends Tricia and Julie out their usual bar hangout. Supposedly, we were to meet all of my other friends who would be there celebrating graduating. Turns out that both of my friends were being really weird, and the only other people there to talk to were boring as hell. The place was just sucking the energy out of me, so I just had to get out of there. A couple of other girls from my school came by and told us they were going dancing at another place down the street. I immediately grabbed the keys and told these girls I was coming with. Just as a back story here, the girl whose plan I had just invited myself in on was on Student Government the year before, and had absolutely hated my guts. I knew this. She knew this. But I had to get out of that energy sucking vacume posing as a bar. So she didn’t stop me, but when we rolled into this new place, I was NOT her friend, and she did everything she could to make this obvious. Whatever. I know I’m going to win her over, and really I just need her and her friends for social proof. So we walk into this Irish Pub on Fifth Ave, and I immediately notice a group of guys who were spread out throughout the bar, all talking to the most beautiful women in the place. I noticed them because they were all wearing leisure suits. Their costumes consisted of short shorts, tube socks, matching track jerseys, and to top it off, they all accessorized with ridiculous wigs, headbands, sweatbands, and sunglasses.

Lesson 1. Peacocking by yourself is good. Multiply this effect exponentially as you add other matching Peacocks. I call this Multicocking.

Everyone in the bar wants to know who these guys are and why they are wearing leisure suits. I grabbed one of the guys, who was as a matter of fact hitting on the girl I came with—lets call her Tara—and I asked him why his buddies were all wearing such becoming attire. He told me, loudly so that all of his admiring female fans could hear him: that they were a basketball team that played charity events for leukemia. From then on the shit just flowed like Niagara Falls.

Lesson 2. Multicocking is good by itself, but it’s even better if you add in a great DHV to the outfit. Leukemia and Brest cancer charities are always well received.

Tara, who is a playful little snot, immediately turns to her other friends and tells them that she is not leaving without one of their headbands. I, who am also a playful little snot, told her that I would get one first. She was very confidant in her womanish charms, and proposed that whoever failed to obtain the said headband would have to buy the other a drink. I was happy with this solution, because I am a bawler.
So we begin to approach these “Basketball Players,” and start to game them. Thankfully, I have read “The Game,” and also thankfully, Tara has not. Her approach sucked. It was direct, and relied very heavily on her feminine physique. Oh. I forgot to add that she isn’t very good looking (HB5). Anyway, I pulled aside the first guy I had spoken to, and asked him to tell me who would be my best bet for getting a headband. He pointed to a tall, heavily chiseled black man with dreads hanging down to his chest.
“His name is Darkness. Go tell him he is hung like a mule.”
I thought to myself: “There is nothing that could go wrong with this.”
As I approached him, I realized that he stood a full head and shoulders above my Napoleonic stature. My head stopped where his dreads began. He was also chatting up a couple of the best looking women in the place, an HB7 and an HB9. So naturally I walked up to him, slapped him on the back alpha male style (I had to reach up to do this) and I asked him confidently, “Hey, You’re Darkness right?”
“Yeah…”
“Well I heard that you are hung like a mule.”
He did not stare at me blankly waiting for an explination. He did not swing a meaty fist into my jaw. He laughed and asked me where I heard it. I started conversation, explained to him my dire situation, and told him I would give his headband back as soon as I had taken care of business with Tara.
Within a couple minutes, he had given me his headband, and I was standing at the bar with Tara, victoriously sporting the pink, fruity margarita she had bought me.

I returned to the table Darkness was gaming, now determined not only to have his headband, but also to have his women. I showed up at the table, gave Darkness back his headband, sipped from my drink in the gayest possible way, and asked the whole table if they like the drink Tara had bought me. They thought this was very amusing, and soon someone asked the aged go to question “Where are you from?” When I told them I was from Dallas, Darkness waved another headband sporting player over and was like,
"Dude, Matt! This guy is from Dallas, yall can be Cowboy fans together!”
So Matt comes over, and starts singing my praises and the praises of all Cowboy fans around the world, shaking my hand and pretty much just DHVing me out the ass.

Lesson 3: Win the guys, you win the girls. Strait up yall.

As we go around the table, we find out the HB7 is from Brazil, which automatically bumps her up to an HB8, and that the HB9, my target, is from Miami. This is just not interesting enough for me, and so I tell her:
“You don’t look like a lifeguard from Miami. I totally would have called you as a…*thoughtful pause*… Romanian." I pause again, then add offhandedly: "It’s the high cheekbones.”
Matt immediately jumps in with “Yeah, a Romanian Gymnist. I can definitely see you doing flips on those sexy poles and shit.”

This was gold. I just returning to this over and over. I brought Tara over and introduced the whole table, and when I got to HB9, I said “Hey this is the Romanian Gymnist I told you about!” Later on, once she had forgotten about it and I found out that she was interested in all sorts of literature, art, theater, and poetry, which I am totally into, I just stared at her with a face of pure amazement. She kind of looked bac sheepishly and asked “What?!”
“Yall do EVERYTHING in Romania!”
She laughed every time. It was great.
I’ve since added it to my routine bank. Romanian Gymnist. Use it.

Anyway. We developed great raport despite Darkness’ failed Alpha attempts. Once he realized I was winning out, he became docile, and as the night went on I befriended the rest of these guys by just joining in with their super high energy and dancing with them. My biggest problem was that the Brazilian girl kept giving me IOI’s all over the place. When the girls decided to leave, she practically forced her number on me, and wanted a picture. I pulled the three picture Mystery routine, and she kissed me on the cheek as Darkness held the camera.

Lesson 4. Chiseled muscles and Peacocking gets you noticed, but it’s the conversation that gets you numbers.

The girls took off, and I never ended up with any close on the Romanian. She is by far the coolest girl I’ve met at a bar since then.
My mistakes:
1. I still haven’t got the hang of spreading my attention between a group correctly. In this instance, I ignored the wrong girl, and ended up with major attraction with the Brazilian but not a whole lot from the Romanian Gymnast.
2. I didn’t move the set, isolate my target, or bounce the group.

Ether way, I ended up ditching Tara to go dancing with all of these basketball players and the other girls they picked up, who, again, ended up all over me by the end of the night.

Lesson 5. Downside of Multicocking: The one who doesn’t fit into your group is the one who stands out.

In all, I met some really cool people, ended up with the Brazilian’s number, and we’ll see what happens later. I drove home in my roommate’s junk heap at three in the morning, and parked it in the lot closest to my dorm. I just could not manage the driver’s seat window to go up since the car was such a piece of shit, so I just gave up and swaggered back to my room much more confidant in my game.

The next morning I found a bird in the car. It shit on everything. But that’s another story entirely.
__________________
A woman should never be seen eating or drinking, unless it be lobster salad and Champagne, the only true feminine and becoming viands."
-Lord Byron- 1867

[Triumvirate]

multicocking

that is all.