October Sarging (1st week):A bit rusty and 2 weak FB closes

September was a drab month. My summer vacation ended mid way through September. Two fucking days of bus all the way from Eastern Europe to Lyon gave me blotted feet which freaked me out. No big deal, I was back running around like a happy dog in a few days. Here I was, back at my friend’s gigantic apartment where I had the whole living room to myself. I was jobless, still am, but not a man in desperation. I would wake up the next morning, turn on my dusty computer which has been serving me tirelessly for the past few years and look for jobs that would suit me, or that I would suit in. It was tiresome, with a master’s degree in engineering people expect you to play by the same rules all the time. You graduate, send the same CV and resume that every other blockhead graduate would send. The HR then filters the uncanny blockheads such as me and interviews the genuine one’s. You then go through several unworthy procedure, earn yourself a small cubicle among an office full of experienced blockheads. Office hours, 9 to 5, you go back home with a slouched back, tired and unhappy with your life.

Couple of months ago I was swimming in the vague current that would bring be to that very path. Letter after letters, call after calls. In June, a young lady working for an up coming engineering company was very kind to give way to my pestering and decided to interview me. I never heard from her again except for a short mail with a negative reply. Lying back on my bed, I pondered and pondered, not too long of course, I knew that I wanted to write. The rage to write was instilled in me a long time ago, but worthless commitments took away the desires to nestle with the words that would perk up in my brain. But now, I had time in my hand, nobody to stop me but me and only me. All I have to do is invest my time and skill and be rewarded with a lump of cash which would surely not bloat my back account any time soon. I signed up and tried my luck, some of my proposal was considered but nothing came up. I then decided to try my hands on dock shipping and site flipping. Everything backfired, there is no way to make quick money, and I decided to lock my heels on writing and freelancing.

Well, all these trial and errors with various money fabricating methods were onerous and harshly long. Damn those people who make buck loads of money in a short spin. Being a normal human being I took it step by step. Still looking for my first project, but I am a realist optimist. Good times aren’t far ahead. Speaking about normal human being, well, all work and no play makes a tiger angry and wild. I nearly became one. I approached probably 5 girls during this period. My game went stall. I had to get my ass out and that is just what I did. My first approach after the lay off was a petite French Moroccan, a lawyer and she was receptive. She complimented me for being smart and funny, the vibe was good but for some unknown reason I did not number close her. I did another 2 sets that day, ended up FB closing a local girl who was reluctant of my kino. There was a small hunch of approach anxiety creeping back in but this set vanquished all the doubts I had on nervousness after a break from day game. However, the same girl ignored my friend request and I would not make a big fuss about that, not anymore.

My second session of the week was on a sunny but quite chilly Wednesday evening. My first two sets were cold blow outs, but not spine chilling cold by any means. My 3rd set ended in a Facebook close. A HB6 at the most, dressed prominently in pink, I opened her by complimenting her look alike to a pink doll. She was receptive, a good set but something was missing, something I could not just point my finger to. I avoided adding her in facebook knowing from my previous experience. My next set was a HB 8. A tall slender office girl taking big strides like a lioness preying on a bull. She was giving mone-wordrd reply, two at the most. She has a boyfriend and was reluctant in giving me her number. The set ended and I sent her on her way. The next 3 sets were roadblocks. Sun was soon setting, the air getting colder and street being filled with gradual emptiness. I spotted a girl crossing me, a small plaster at the corner of her right eye. She was dressed in a long red coat with a small black sports bag in her hand. She was a 7 for me. I chased her and opened her from the side, complimenting on her attire and inquiring about the small wound I spotted earlier.

There were instant chemistry, looking into her shiny eyes there was a twinkling spark. She moved two steps closer towards me. For some reason I have been approaching girls in English before switching to French and the trend continued. She is a dancer on her way to buy a scarf that would keep a tiny body warm before hitting the dance class. I saw ROI from her, questions, she asking me. I saw attraction and decided to build comfort and rapport. I took the chance to do some escalation. I brushed her hair lightly like a soft breezy wind blowing past without any resistance. She did not show any discomfort. We talked mostly about travels and books. She even visited my birth country which gave more baits to latch on. The set was a bout to end. I was confident about the number close. Dang!!! She refused to pass me her number. I was confused, she was resisting, but not moving away from me. I held her hand for a while until she pulled it away. There were no signs of discomfort and I sensed a girl who wants to be chased. The shield could been shattered if I had not been rusty as I were.

The set died, I walked away, took the subway and returned home. Thinking about it, my inability to persist was the turning point here. Something that has been poking me in the head since the last few months. Or was she enjoying some free harmless attention that I was pouring on her. I was also hesitant during my escalations. With a bit more confidence, I could have done wonders. I went out again on Friday, bad day to go out; I had done it before and will never learn. I took a mid afternoon nap that left me with a groggy head. For some reason I did only 4 sets which went to the graveyard. My vibe was bad, I stopped a girl who only spoke French, I struggled to muster any word in French despite my fluency. Everything was wrong today, my energy, busy people preparing for the weekend and the ever decreasing temperature. I was angry at myself. It was a shitty day and for someone who had done around 700 sets, days like this are big headaches which evoked disgrace when I look myself at the mirror. Next week has to be different, very different.

Book Review: From A Buick 8 by S.King

“A story should arise itself, the meaning comes along if it exists”- Stephen King

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From a Buick 8 is one of Stephen Kings most divisive work. Extremely contradicting reviews all over the web. I came upon this book lurking around a book store during my summer holidays in the warm and alluring Balkans. It would cost me a petty 4 € to indulge into King’s fascinating world. I ignored the reviews, took the book with me, and started flipping the pages while devouring the artistry lying in my hands. I was disappointed, but only until a certain point. From A Buick 8 is not the most interesting piece of art out there, but it makes you think.

A police officer is murdered by his own uncalculated mistake. His son, a young man in the verge of adulthood inherits his father’s duty, although temporarily. There he gains valuable friendships and knowledge. He learns about the struggles and the pleasant adventures of a cop, including his father’s. One day, he discovers a car, a Buick 8, lying in the shed in the barracks. Past events are rekindled and the car, is just not a car, it’s a being, a being so dangerous capable of altering the reality and practicality of its admirer. Unlike my previous book review(The Great Gatsby), I will not disclose the plot of this fable. Fill in the missing puzzle yourself if you are keen on the answer lying beneath the cover of the book. But beware, the car is not an eye candy.

Life’s of police officers protecting their country, the burden held by a son who lost his father and at the other end the mystery surrounding the ghost car. All these elements told in King’s own way, or was it? It does not contain many racy screenplays. There were vaguely any ups or down. Perhaps one or two events which kept me at the edge of my friends cosy black sofa. There was no clear answer to the questions posed by the narratives. From where did the car come, where does it transport people, does it kill them, and the reason behind its creation. All of these enormous questions left unanswered. This is not your typical thriller or fantasy story. It’s not a book you read to be happy, amused or energetic. This book epitomizes life. Yes! The very life you, me and King live in.

Life is a compilation of incoherent events. It is rarely pragmatic and riddles lying within are not often solved. Most of the time, life is an unassuming journey that is filled with certain jolts, good and bad. From A Buick 8 perfectly deciphers these thoughts. We always tend to assimilate ourselves with the uncanny over the top fictions. This book will remind you the harsh reality of life. Guys wanting to become superheros and eager girls waiting for the special romance will be crushed hard. In the end of the day, reality is an ugly bitch. Life is like a yo-yo, you go up then come down, sometimes a knot on the string appears. You undo the dilemma, then the string breaks. You work hard and change it for the better, and the cycle continues. Some of these experiences will lack the logical explanation behind it. Unlocking these mysteries are not always the best of solutions.As they say, acceptance and ignorance are virtues.

From a Buick 8 deals with fate. That fate is random and unexplainable. Science would not be able to describe this book. There will be no constructive reasoning behind the events unfolding in this book. This is maybe King’s perception of life. I would disagree. Every consequence comes from the action of the actor. I am a stern believer of The Butterfly Effects, despite it being an exaggeration of The Chaos Theory. An occurrence taking place at a specific location and time can alter the future events independent of time and dimensions. It’s scary and unimaginable. How can a butterfly flapping its wings in the Amazon alter the sea level of the Indian Ocean? How can the colonisation of the 3rd world during the past centuries affect the mass technological advanced that the world is going through? Nothing is voluntary in life, and everything is related.

King wrote this book after surviving from an accident during his solo road trip. He wondered about the reversal. What if he had died? What would have happened? These were unanswered questions. These questions were born from the sole action of saving himself from drowning during the accident. His action leading to consequences, the idea for the book itself. The mystery surrounding the car was never revealed. Nobody knew where it came from and where it took the people it ate. The search for the answer led to further disappointments. Actions and consequences always exist,but results may not. Here, King has nailed it perfectly.

My takes on Eastern Europe

Fresh from my recent adventures out in the Eastern side of our beloved Europe, I puzzled over on the valuable lessons I have learned during my 2 months stay there. Sitting on my friend’s cozy black sofa, I decided to unseal my thoughts.

Money is not happiness

1d66204c-3cce-46e2-8c80-fbd96200a2fbWestern Europe is known as the financial powerhouse. Minimum salary in France and Germany is around 9 Euros per hour while people in the East earn 9 times less. Surprisingly, I never heard any complains from anyone over there. There are no strikes, nor any massive social or political movements, except for Serbians positive support rally for Donald Trump. Meanwhile, enough have been heard and said in the West. Bulgaria and Serbia are two of the poorest countries in the European peninsula behind Ukraine. But their citizens are proud of their culture and heritage. They love to party, probably every night. If you don’t believe me, spend two nights in Belgrade. Happiness goes a long way from making money. Sometimes it’s about filling the other holes in your life.

Hardcore mentality

These  countries were ruled by the former Soviet Union. Serbians went through 2 wars not too long ago against their neighbors. Hence, the warrior-like mentality. Trained since childhood to be strong and independent, they rarely complain This comes from the fact that they are not the richest people in the world which incorporates hard working mentality within them. They know that hard work is necessary for them to survive. You will find tough people here, mentally and physically. Meanwhile, the Frenchies would go on a strike for the simplest of things. Despite 35 hours of working hours per week with cigarette and coffee break included, they still want less. Guys and girls here are alpha. I’ve seen more buffed up guys in Serbia and Bulgaria than any other countries I have visited. A skinny guy can feel intimidated here. I started working out back since coming back to France. This served as a reminder to stay healthy and fit wherever I am.

Warmth and honesty

Give them respect and they will pour you with love. Mess with them, they will show you hell. I have met one of the most honest people ever during my stay in the Baltics and the Balkans. Ask for directions and be prepared to hear, “What, tell me quick” or “What you want”.I would not blame you for misunderstanding their honesty as rudeness. I fell in that trap too. People today are polite to preserve their own self-image or just to please others. You won’t see much of these in the East. A Lithuanian friend said to me, “Everybody who comes to Vilnius says that it is an amazing city, but they can’t tell me what is so amazing.” Social programming exists everywhere, but the East is less contaminated by this virus. Life here is simple and straightforward. Honesty is very much appreciated.

The girls

 

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You can see this in Lithuania

 

If you are a guy then you are in for a treat. I live in France and love French girls. But nothing beats the tall, long-haired, light complexion of a Lithuanian girl. If you like leggy girls, with silky black hair with darker complexion then be prepared to be mesmerized by the Balkans. They might maintain some distance from you at the beginning , but they will not play any games with you. I have met many travelers, and at least 90 % of them agreed that the Balkans girls are by far the most beautiful in the world. The woman to man ratio in the Baltics is quite high. About 70 % of students in Lithuanian universities are girls. Imagine that!!! Serbia was a difficult place for me, but Lithuania was different. I regret only staying for a week there. But it’s a country that I will surely check out again in the near future.

The prices

It’s dead cheap. A meaty dinner with a big garlic bread and a pint of beer will cost you around 8 to 10 Euros in Belgrade. Yes, I am talking about high-end restaurants. 3 months of salary in Western Europe will last for 9 months in the East. A one bedroom apartment will cost you around 150 Euros of rent per month. The same haircut that cost me 5 Euros in Belgrade would cost 15 Euros in France. Ukraine, Serbia, and Bulgaria should be at the top of the list of a digital nomad who wants to live in Europe. I might move there to one day.

Gaming

I went there thinking that the exotic factors would be a plus. It was a slight plus in the Baltics but not in Serbia or Bulgaria. Hordes of infectious refugee seeking temporary stay played a certain role. Being dark-skinned, I was sometimes misunderstood as a refugee. Dressing better surely helped me getting over this problem. Girls here are not used to having Indian guys approaching them, they probably never even seen one before. Hence, be prepared to approach more. Take a look at my Belgrade Misadventures those seeking further details. I met more experienced gamers here, and even they are having a hard time. Major capital cities in the Eastern Europe are suffering from PUA’s burnout, Belgrade is one of them. Remember that you are competing with the  local alpha guys , your game has to be top-notch. You can try Tinder or OK Cupid, but these aren’t real game are they?

Review on The Great Gatsby(Author: F Scott Fitzgerald)

Review on The Great Gatsby(Author: F Scott Fitzgerald)

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F Scott Fitzgerald has written 5 novels(where one is left unfinished) in his life time. Amid these, The Great Gatsby is regarded as one of his biggest magnum opus. Receiving rather weak reception during it’s early days, the fable achieved cult status later. Even being a contender for the title ‘The Great American Novel’. Told from a first person point of view, the story is revealed bit by bit by a modest man, Nick Carraway.

He narrates his past memories of a man called Mr Jay Gatsby. Gatsby is gentleman who has all except for one, the one that he wants out of everything else. Everything else he did was for her. She, meanwhile is married to another man out of circumstances. A wish-washy Daisy is in love with two man her lover, Jay Gatsby and her husband. Tom himself meanwhile is not very innocent, having a married mistress by his side. Written during the Roaring Twenties in the United States of America, F Scott Fitzgerald has submerged elements such as economic prosperity, new age criminal activities, white supremacy and societal development.

Jay Gatsby could have been a shining sigma, shining so bright and powerfully up in the vast sky where no arms or leg could reach to pluck him down. But that was not it. Not accepting his poverty, Gatsby dropped out of college and joined Dan Cody, a tycoon on a 5 year yacht expedition. Cody became Gatsby’s mentor. Teaching him the way of the gentlemen, Gatsby evolved. The young lad then went on to serve the military before a brief stint at the Oxford University. There he came to know that Daisy, his sweetheart was married to Tom Buchanan, a famous polo player from a wealthy family. Gatsby still in love with Daisy, decided to leave everything and followed his heart. But he did not have anything! Making acquittance with a gangster Meyer Wolfsheim, Gatsby ventured into illegal business. A minute walk along the dangerous path; extravagant parties, elegant cars, and a villa full of servants for sweating their master Jay Gatsby. He made tons of money and ended buying a house at the West Egg while becoming close friend with Nick Carraway, his foreseen neighbor. He wants Daisy back, wanting to go 5 years back when they meet to start all over again. Gatsby’s crazy desire over Daisy was devastating. A turmoil that he brought on himself.

Can’t repeat the past? He cried incredulously.’Why of course you can!’

Jay Gatsby’s story is a good red pill example of how a man should not fuck himself up. Gatsby was prolific in everything he undertook except for the ‘Pursuit of the perfect woman’. There is nothing such as a perfect woman. This was his weakness. He lived in an imaginary world thinking that love is blind. Blind it is, with female deceptions. His eagerness to rewind back the moments and live his remaining life with Daisy was delusional. On the other side, his rival Tom Buchanan was a starkly contrasting character. A polo player, levered social reputation, good with women and at the same time carrying a slight arrogant demeanor in him. He had two ladies in his life, a wife and a mistress. He differs from Gatsby. Despite the lack of elegant charm, Tom is cunning and full of trickery, he played his cards carefully to keep his wife and avoid any unneeded bad reputation.

Tom and Gatsby never got on well. Gatsby while in most situation remains calm and composed would come as an emotional freak in the case of love. Tom meanwhile was a calculative man with his thoughts and actions. He perfectly manipulates his wife with his words and undisputed deceptions which amplified Gatsby emotional burst. For some, Tom would be looked as a villain. He did what every top man will do to continue his survival in this world. Unapologetic, little emotional barrier and a mastery of the art of acting are the meticulous words I would use to portray Tom. Tom rekindling Gatsby’s past and his smuggling business. An air uncertainty appeared within Gatsby. This was the turning point of the confrontation between these two men.

Tom’s mistress is an unhappy woman. With plenty of unfilled dreams, she sought out Tom behind her husbands back. Mr Wilson is a paradox of Tom. His inability to live a prosperous life after 10 years of marriage cost him a wife. He is a man that is ordered around by his lady. His disability to put up a solid argument with Tom even enhances his submissiveness. He gets manipulated by Tom’s seductive words and behaviors, which eventually only brought gargantuan misery. In surplus, he is not respected by the people around him, including his wife. It was not a big surprise when he went all they way out to avenge her death despite knowing all her betrayals. Mr Wilson is a prime example, even a better sample compared to Gatsby on how being socially and physiologically bent could send a man to the gallows.

The true nature of  woman was also exposed in this drama. Daisy and the mistress, Mrs Wilson. Women seek out the best mate in term masculinity and long term prospect. Her affair with Tom is not a rare occurrence. Tom is a natural leader, rich and most of all successful. Her husband ends up in the opposite end. Despite being slapped harshly by Tom, she decided to stick by him. Her husband meanwhile can be considered as a weak creep who will presumably shrink at any moment. This highlights the inner nature of the female mind. They enjoy drama and seek the -domination of a strong man. Women take decision based on their emotions. What feels right at the present moment. Daisy is seen dangling with her emotional states throughout the fable. She married Tom as it seems the right thing to do at that time. When Gatsby reappears she gives away to her emotions again and ends up having an affair with him. A woman will act as you treat her. Let her step on you and she will. You can be the nice one, but be prepared to finish also as the last one. If you are lucky you might finish second last, but nobody cares about who comes second do they?

‘Look here, old sport, you’ve got to get somebody for me. You’ve got to try hard. I can’t go through this alone.

Its a choice, make the right one.

 

Belgrade Misadventures Final Part :Meeting Jimmy Jambone

Jimmy Jambone was in the neighborhood!!! I was elated. I came to know upon him while I was deeply swallowing Krauser’s Balls Deep. Jimmy was a close friend of Krauser and still is. In fact he was the one who taught Krauser during Krauser’s initial days in RSG(Rock Solid Games). I was interested in reviving the 3Bromigos blog which has now gone dead. He was interested in meeting me.

I took a break the next day, I woke up late and a had late morning breakfast. Fried egg and some salad with pepper which I made in the small unconventional kitchen in the apartment. I took some time to reflect on my life of the past 6 months. Being exposed more to game, reprogramming my mind with red pill issues, quitting my post as a doctorate, and my travels for the past 3 months or so. A year ago, I never thought that I will be doing all these. Understanding that the world outside is harsh and unforgiving, I was somehow mind fucked and at the same time pleased. Discovering and turning each layers off obstacles is a feeling I have started to embrace. As once and still said, a woman simply is, a man must become.

I went out to the park near the fortress to continue my affair with The Great Gatsby. I had a lady saying to me, “ Nice book you got there”. I said to myself, “ Of course, she is a lady”. Being rested, I was motivated enough for sarging the next day.. As usual, I had a large number of blowouts, and a few good set. My final set ended up in me NB closing a hot 18 years old Serbian. At the end of the set, it came upon me how much I was just looking at her talking and expressing herself. She was filling the gaps herself. I saw lots of investment and interest from her. I was overjoyed but the next day she blocked me in Watsapp. I wonder what could have gone wrong. The day after was a common affair. A normal day in the office I would say, couple of blowouts, and a few simple conversation. Nothing memorable.

That night I got a reply from Jimmy. We decided to meet up for breakfast. I was excited but was trying to think of some inputs for the blog(3 Bromigos)which I merely found. I then reached the point of rendez vous about 5 minutes early. Taking a seat at one of the tables outside, I waited eagerly for the man. I recognized him from one of his pictures in the blog. 10 minutes later, I saw the tall, a bit skinny figure but with a breezy sunglasses coming towards me. There he was. We shook hands. He was a pleasant guy. We chatted about his experience in game and life. We even spoke about John Bodi and Nick Krauser. How they meet and the things they are doing in life. It was a casual meeting, we became friends there.

Jimmy also suggested to me a city where there is no virus infection from the streams of PUA unlike Belgrade. For confidential reason and to prevent any PUA cock fest, I would not disclose this city. We were both leaving Belgrade to different destinations the next night and decided to meet up. I did not do any sets since then in Belgrade. The two days break will do lots of good to get rid of the fatigue accumulated since the past few days. We meet again the next night and walked while pulling our large suitcases through the dirty roads of Belgrade towards the train station. While sipping beer, I suggested some ideas for the blog. I was interested in writing reviews on books and travel advices. Jimmy liked the idea and promised me that he will put me in contact with Bojangles, another brown brother who is currently shagging hot Polish chicks. Jimmy too suggested me to start recording my sets with a cheap cam. It would make me realize the small mistakes I make. I suppose I will be getting one once I return back to France.

His train departed before mine and we shook hands but surely not for the last time. My guts told me that we would meet again. I sat back on my chair, sliding trough the pages of the unfinished yet utterly romantic novel I talked about. 15 days in Belgrade comes to an end. A mishap or a pleasant trip, I don’t know. Misadventures are part of life, it teaches you and feeds you with diligent amount of knowledge that should be cherished. I had my ups and downs in this city, whether I would return here or not is a question I would need to ask myself. Well it’s Belgrade.

Tips from Jimmy:

  1. Talk slow with a clear voice. Grab her attention with you voice.

  2. Let her talk when she wants too. Look at her and let her fill the silence when needed.

  3. Record your sets and analyses the micro mistakes you make.

  4. Day gaming is hard, its not a temporary choice, but a life long journey.

[The end]

Belgrade Misadventures Part 4 : Its all about the day

I faced series of blowouts in the next two days, cold depressing blowouts that went nowhere. I had a girl telling me about a guy approaching her earlier, I smiled and sent her on her way. This was one of those days where nothing goes right and each set just plummets your energy further down. I had a homeless guy who threw a big trout fish at me for no fucking reason. A bad day at the office indeed.

The next day was no different hence my decision to try the indirect game. Zero percent success. I was feeling down, energy sapped and my inner game was messed up. Indirect game was just not my niche. I tried it before and it just felt weird. It was like waking up in the morning and brushing your teeth with a toilet cleaning detergent instead of a toothpaste. Reading Krauser’s blog, the truth came upon me. Direct game is about inner game. Being yourself and expressing yourself in your own damn way without any remorse for the consequences of your actions. It made lots of sense. I felt myself doing a direct game.

I enjoyed the vibe when a girl accepts my approach and learned the harsh truth when I get scummed off. Direct game shows you the reality of the world. It creates a sense of awareness that will give you a subtle mind fuck. Sometimes good the other times bad. Accepting the truth is hard. It can burn your heart and mind to a level where your ego just crumbles down into ashes. I decided to accept the fact and not give up. Each failure makes you a better person. There is always another day to look forward.

Despite my failure infield, two of my NB close were responding to my text. Only problem is getting them out on dates. Both were busy, one working part time another one busy studying for exams. Angela was the most responsive as seen below. The fun was there but she was playing aloof and I could not get an enthusiastic yes from her. I decided to wait 2 more days to see the end results. I set out again the day after. A better day indeed. I had an instant date with two girls this time. Two Montenegrin sisters. I approached the younger one in a bookstore, the set went well, she hooked from the beginning and invited me to hang out with her sister. I decided to give it a go. I was sweating once I reached the restaurant.

They were having lunch while I took a chair and sat at the corner of the table. I ordered myself a beetroot juice which ended up tasting like a bad cocktail. I was feeling pressured. Two cute girls eating and talking in their native language, while I was sitting wondering about the dish served in front of them. I used it as a conversation opener, something I learned from Roosh’s book called ‘elderly opener’. “ Is that food good”. From there we started talking about different food, culture and language. I got to know more about both of them. They were both leaving that evening to their home town. So I decided not to plow through the set.

I finished my drink and I ejected. It was mainly because of pure pressure. But I was proud of myself of having under gone the experience. I was also happy of pulling out of my comfort zone and trying something new, the beetroot juice.

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. I did a good set with an English girl but did not NB close her as she was leaving the town in a few days. I went back to my room, opened my laptop and checked my mail. There I got a reply for a mail I sent previously, to the Legendary Jimmy Jambone………

[to be continued]

My Belgrade Misadventures Part 3:The ups and a few downs

My throat was still sore with a slight hunch of fever looming. I took a day off the streets to give my body a rest. Feeling better the next day, I decided to go back to mall were I felt much more comfortable. Before that, I did some warm up sets at the classical, PUA infested Knez Mihailova. My 2nd set there ended up in a number close. A cute average looking Serbian girl from a smaller town studying Norweigian language in Belgrade. She was kinda nervous but chatty around me. I sensed a good investment. She was not entirely my type, so I did not go for the idate. I approached a few more girls but all ended in blowouts

I then took the bus to the mall. My first set there was a beautiful but a bit chubby Serbian girl called Angela. She was receptive from the start. She was one of those rare Serbian’s who wants to leave the country and settle somewhere else. The set was going good but she was waiting for a friend. They are supposed to work at the Biere Festival nearby. I NB closed her. I face couple of blowouts and a few good sets. I had one girl who was resisting the interaction, I plowed on but could not break her barriers. The set ended, she left and I moved on.I then NB closed a Spanish girl on holidays in Serbia. She is an amateur tennis player cum business student in the USA. Her name is Ana just like the famous Serbian tennis player Ana Ivanovic. She was leaving after the weekend, so hopes of getting her out on a date is pretty low. I did a few more sets which went no where. It was a productive day, I had a good ego boost and went back to my room singing, smiling looking forward to the next day.

The sun came back up. I hustled the street late noon prying on my next targets. I did a warm up set at the student park. The next set after that, ended in a instant date with a Danish tourist. A 21 year old girl looking forward to studying medicine. She was hooked immediately and I proposed a drink together. She wanted to eat but I only needed a drink. We walked up to Terazije and sat at a table at a lounge bar along the street. We chatted along our walk and I sensed a good calm vibe unfolding around us. A bubble that only the girl and you are immersed in and nothing else counts. The bubble however is not an invincible one. One that has the tendency to stay strong and get stronger only if the right ingredients are added. The ingredients added depends solely or mostly on the hands of the cook. In this case the cook is me.

We sat down and made the orders. The cook’s work is to find the right balance of ingredients in term of quantity and disparity which will further enhance the bubble positively. In this case, the cook added too much of spices and the bubble started to explode in a awry wrong direction. It messed up the taste of the bubble and once the bubble exploded, there is rarely a way back. I took granted of the girls interest and started playing aloof. I teased too much and failed to further build proper rapport. I failed to engage the girl emotionally and I triggered her red senses. There were too much off teasing and wrong vibing. After her meal, the went to the toilets. She came back telling her friend has invited her to the beach and she has to leave. We settled the bills and she left me there. All alone wondering where it went. I then realized that I was putting soo much pressure on getting my first lay that I lost control of my game entirely.

I moved on, continued walking along the long street towards Slavia Square. I did a few more sets which ended in blowouts. My next set ended up in another idate. 2 instant dates in a day. Bingoooooo!!! This one was a tall Serbian girl. A waitress and a gym freak. Don’t worry she is not the female version of Arnold Schwarzenegger. She was lean and good looking. She was on her way for a coffee and I decided to hop in with her in a nearby coffee shop. We talked about workouts, coffee and drinks. She was very talkative. She even had a long chat about coffee with the waiter and got a 2nd one as she was not satisfied with her first coffee. Then things started pouring out about refugees and migrants. She had stereotypes in her mind. I needed not too care more. I continued to talk and at one point I tried escalating her. She said what would people say if they see a black guy touching me. I said I am brown not black. I looked around for a while, played uninterested. A few seconds later, I left. My ego was hurt a bit but after the incident with the Dutch girl I knew pick up is hard if your are black, Asian or Indian. I did 2 more sets that day which did not go anywhere. Anyhow I was overjoyed at my capability of getting instant dates. 6 so far in the past 1 month. The lay is not far away.

Or maybe I am just putting too much pressure on myself to get laid………

[to be continued]