Thursday, July 9, 2009

But it feels like I've been here before...

I'm sitting across from him in a little restaurant on Fairfax, strips of tribal themed fabric hanging above our heads next to oversized, royal-hued umbrellas dangling by their handles from the ceiling.

Is this it, is this the moment?

I'm telling him of my weekend, of the PUA I met, though I don't term him that. I simply call him a "player" because it's an easier translate and involves less explaining. I keep my worlds separate, or at least I try to.

I was mildly proud of how I worked with that man on Saturday. Things went well that evening, with me staying in control, monitoring and adjusting according to instinct and experience.

I tried to relay that to him without making it sound like some sort of horrible manipulation, tried to express my amusement and delight, about how, at the bar, several men continued to text me, with me stopping and replying to them, with the PUA sitting there, me apologizing but not stopping, until he finally took my phone away from me and silenced it, a move that made me wet and desirous. I was waiting to see what he would do, how long he would allow me to stop conversation in order to maintain other guys. And he handled it well.

GV8 just looked at me, "That was so rude. If a girl did that to me, I'd just walk away."

I blinked, "I would never do that to you."

We shifted into the topic of respect, of how important it is to both of us in our own ways.

He made me feel bad about the games. He made me question my methods, made me wonder what I was doing, if it was right, and how acting in that way when I was out with that man on Saturday was truly disrespectful.

But it was part of the game. It's always part of the game. When you enter into a situation where you are dealing with a man who likes to play, social rules change slightly. You shift mindsets. You know what you want, and you take steps to achieve your goals. I wanted the PUA, I wanted to fuck him. I knew that if I wanted to, we could have skipped dinner and the bar and gone straight to boning. But I wanted that build-up, that teasing, taunting, tormenting, flirting, prove-it-to-me interaction.

So I acted in a certain way.

If I had been thinking long term, I would not have slept with him. But I didn't have the energy to care.

Is this the moment?

Is this when I look at him and know that there are parts of me that he'll never understand, that he'll look down on because playing games is not his style? That there will always be this disconnect between us, because I'll never be able to be fully open with him for fear that he'll look down on me?

He thinks that if you're female, you don't need to play games. He says to me, "You've got the pussy. You don't have to try."

In his world, girls have the sexual control. That they can snap their fingers and summon whatever man they want to their side.

This isn't true. Contrary to popular belief, no matter how hot a girl is, they can't get every man that they want.

You have to work with it. It's not just about the body, but the mind.

It takes energy and experience. Some guys think that all girls have control, but if they stopped and looked around them, they would find they've completely forgotten about so much of the female population that doesn't fall under the attractive ideals. You're surrounded by women- how many of those do you actually acknowledge? How many of those are female to you, and how many of them do you count as sexual beings? How many of them fall into the "little sister" category, or the "friend of my little sister" category. You know: nice and adorable, but you're not close and you look at them like some sort of furniture that can get annoying when they become too loud.

I see this often.

If you want particular results, and you're a female, you have to work on it. You have to learn what you like, what you want, and the best ways to achieve that. Experience stacks up with each man you deal with, on whatever level you interact, and you have to learn what meaning is behind the words they say. Body language, sexuality, hints, tones, how to challenge, how to present yourself as desirable. These are things that you have to learn.

You make yourself better. You make yourself more than you were.

When I was out last weekend, I decided to spend the entire weekend playing. Being on my game and seeing what I could do, if I could make it last for several days, something I've never tried before because I've rarely been in situations that allow for that behavior.

I was flooded with attention, with phone numbers, with people walking after me, walking up to me, trying to start conversations, trying to flirt, interacting, complimenting, etc. so I ended up having my pick of the males.

But then, when I'm done, I turn it off. I fade, become unnoticable, withdraw into myself.

Because I pay attention. Because I have been doing this for so many years and I know it so very well.

On the standard looks scale, I'm a 6. Average face, average body.

But it is my knowledge, my experience, my attitude, that allows me access to the men I would consider 9s and 10s, that get me into places that I would not be normally allowed to access, that cause men to chase me down, to try to take me out to dinner, out for drinks, etc. I'm used to always getting my way because I'm good at figuring out how to get what I want, and then executing the procedure.

I know how to make myself the most desirable woman in the room. I know how to work a room in its entirety. I know how to pick out the most alpha male, speak to him, and determine exactly what I have to do to get him in my bed, or into my life should I choose to do the extended game (I usually don't have a desire to expend that much effort, really).

I know how to give great head, have good sex, how to flirt with or without sexuality oozing from every word. I know how to get to the head of almost any line, should I choose. I can access most areas, get favors without asking. I can cajole and plead quite charmingly, or switch into bitch/ice princess mode should there be a need.

But there's always room for improvement, and I do so want to improve.

Somehow GV8 made me feel bad about this. Like I was doing something wrong. I snagged him, maintained him, with minimal game playing because I knew the only thing I had to do to get him was to be myself (scarcity functioning there) and be a little distant.

Now he's my main lover. He's my Saturday night.

He wants me for my intelligence, my humor, my sexuality. My body is his type, curvy and pale.

He doesn't understand games on the part of females.

He's not like SFPlayboy who I can call and instantly launch into a, "Oh my god, you should've seen this guy I boned. I picked him up at..." and go into the story and the games behind it with him laughing and sharing his own weekend's hijinks.

It saddens me. The disconnect grows.

I'm looking across the table at him and I give up that conversation, let a tangent take over, and I don't bring it back.

This is it. This is one of those moments where you know that the depth of your relationship can go no further, that there are parts of yourself that you will have to withhold because there's no way he could understand or respect you for your choices, even if those choices, your attitudes and ways of handling situations, are what attracted him to you in the first place.

Just another guy.

Not the one.

But you already knew that.

11 comments:

  1. Never met you, but I enjoy your blog.

    I sometimes feel sad reading it though. I sometimes get the feeling you attribute your social success to your ability to play the game and your Mad Blowjob Skillz. Has it ever occurred to you that people might like you because...well, because you're a cool, interesting person?

    I like you, and I don't give a shit about your ability to draw the Alpha Male's attention. And I've never met you so I can't be blinded by your sexual abilities. I just think you're interesting and articulate. Surely, I can't be the only one.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hey Dan,

    I've been enjoying your blog for a bit now as well.

    I don't attribute my social success to my ability to play the game or, heh, my blowjob skills.

    I've been told that people enjoy my company because I make them comfortable, I make them feel like they can tell me anything and I will never judge them. They find me confident and honest, always willing to help, secure in my own skin, always introspective and easily shifting between playful and serious.

    But these are things I am naturally, things I mostly haven't had to work on. To compliment me on these things seems odd and undeserved. They aren't things I focus on, for the most part.

    But game playing and sex, these are things I've had to learn, had to battle with. These are things I've earned, things I'm still actively working on... which makes them a major focus of this blog. I've had pretty bad social anxiety my entire life, to the point of ulcer-like symptoms and breakdowns. I've been the loser, the socially awkward kid, the sore thumb, the weirdo, the loner. That I've been able to (mostly) overcome that... it's nice.

    But I haven't fully accepted myself. I'm too dualistic for my own tastes, and it drives me up the wall more often than not. I'm trying so hard to consolidate my predatory nature (that I wrote a little about in this post) with my compassionate one. For years, I thought that no one consciously played these sexual and social games, that I was this odd duck that was too analytical and hard, that no one would ever understand me, that if I attempted to explain it (like I tried with GV8), that they would stare at me blankly or become disgusted with me (both have happened repeatedly in the past).

    Finding the PUA community was a bit of a godsend, meeting other people that do what I do, even though the majority of them are men. Being able to discuss these things with like-minded people without fear of being called a sociopath or a manipulative bitch is wonderful.

    But it doesn't address my need for kindness, for protecting, for caring, for loving. It doesn't work with my need to be a loving daughter and sister, with the late night phone calls from friends needing an ear or advice. It doesn't work with going clubbing with female friends and protecting them from unsuitable males who would game them.

    I feel alone and caught, I feel like I'll never fit in with any one group, with any one person, and that there will constantly be that disconnect between any significant other and myself because of how I've made myself, that I can get sharks or sheep in my bed or my life, but never a blend between the two.

    I write of the sex and the games because I need to work it out in my head, I need to publically acknowledge it and examine it. I try to write of the pain, of the caring and compassion, but it's harder for me because it feels like I'm being so very weak by caring as much as I do or by letting certain things hurt me when I should know better.

    I know I'm more than sex and games. I know I'm more than my need to love and protect, or my need to submit and serve. It's just a matter of bringing them together.

    And that was, as usual, entirely too long, but I was thinking about this for awhile last night.

    ReplyDelete
  3. i second dan- you may feel compelled to write about the sex and games, but what makes your blog more than that, more compelling to total strangers, is your introspection and self-awareness. it ought to come off as self-absorption, but it does not at all. a tribute to your style. you are a fascinating and rare creature.

    also - you're only a 6 ? say it ain't so.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hehe, your concern for my physical attractiveness is touching, Maurice.

    I base my six off of the social standards for attractiveness. Curveless, tan, leggy blonde with angular features I am not.


    ...did you just moon me through the internet?

    ReplyDelete
  5. You should read The Divided Self by RD Laing.

    ReplyDelete
  6. your point that women need game, too, is familiar to me. my mother tells a similar story – of the even prettier classmate and winning by her wits. but then you look at her photos and it seems such a joke. guys are attracted to you because of your looks. and not having the model look does not make you a 6. i suspect that's a bit of a pose, which helps your point here. when you talk about your game, i'm sure you mean it. you seem very honest. in your mind you are a seductress. 20 years on you will have even better game and you'll see how much your looks were worth. none of this is to say that your interactions with men are not subtle and ingenious. only that is not why they want to fuck you. i’m glad you’re a gifted writer. that will stay with you.

    ReplyDelete
  7. uh, no - i was trying to complement your writing, blog, and style. guess i failed to do so in a clear way. comment on looks was intended as a semi-joke - again, evident fail. like dan said, they don't matter to those of us who read because you write well and present a compelling personality.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I love your little links.

    I was actually teasing you about being concerned about my looks. I knew what you meant, and I was giving you crap. It's a tendency of mine.

    You're a sweetheart. And I don't mean that insultingly.

    ReplyDelete
  9. yeesh. LJBF'ed over the Internet! Without even getting a chance to show my scintillating good looks and dark-and-handsome wit! ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  10. Bwah, you were not.

    It's actually pretty cool, what you do. You're always polite, I've yet to see you attack or insult anyone, which I approve of because I think being rude on the internet, when we should be sharing ideas and thoughts, gathering as many points of view and as much information as possible, is pretty moronic.

    Especially by acting that way in the PUA community, you create a difference between yourself and the rest of the crowd, which is why I remembered you so easily when you first commented here.

    ReplyDelete
  11. well, thanks for the kind words. i feel like the token nice dude over at roissy, as well as the token anti-racist, and i kinda enjoy the role. i think being the token anti-misogynist would be a bridge too far, though...

    ReplyDelete