Feed on

In this post I asked where I went wrong.  Some of you got the right answer (and some of you — feministx, omw — were wide of the mark).

While I can’t go back in time and tap the neural network of the stripper I tried to bang to find out what she was thinking, I have a pretty good idea where I dropped the ball. Those who said I waited too long to leave the strip club and join her at the after hours bar were correct. When I arrived, she was sitting there looking annoyed.

G Manifesto, Challenge, and Chuck had excellent tactical suggestions (don’t order beer, offer a different venue to meet her, dress in custom tailored suit, etc.) but the game killer was the overplay of my aloof and indifferent hand. The Big Mo’ was lost.

Maxim #84: Respect the momentum.


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