Field Report #4 I'm a complete choad

It was Saturday night. I was sill groggy from a late Friday night of sarging. I didn't sleep well, and then spent the day on work stuff trying to get caught up. My frame of mind sucked. 10:00 PM rolled around and I don't know where the time went - fucking around doing dishes and laundry and just being a tool. I shower and finally get out the door around 10:40, thanks in part to Chief, who threatened to throw me out of PUA Chat if I didn't get going. The material I worked up from the night before is still fresh in my mind.

I get to the night club district around 11:15, planning a repeat of the previous night's successes with some minor improvements, but the evening takes a different turn. I start in the friendly neighborhood pub/lounge that's become sort of my home base. Before ordering my one beer of the evening, I cruise through the place checking out the scenery. Unfortunately, there was not a lot of interesting wildlife to look at. I spot a cute skinny 8 girl with a pixie-ish face sitting at a tall 4-up table by herself, engrossed in a little glowing screen. There were full glasses of beer everywhere on her table. As I walk by, I throw a casual neg comment over my shoulder but smiling. "You're friends left you all alone, huh? That wasn't very nice of them." She looks up from her phone and I catch an exasperated throw of the hands out of the corner of my eye. A few minutes later, I'm in the next room from the 8 and through the doorway I see her friends are back. One of them is looking away so I can't see her, the other is a pretty but young looking blonde 7 who smiles at me and does not break eye contact.

After a minute or so I re-approach the 8 with an opener "Oh, it looks like your friends are back. They didn't abandon you after all" (smiling but theatrically disapproving eyes at the new arrivals). The 3rd girl who's back was turned to me before turns out to be a horrid black-haired she-beast with bug eyes. It was an awkward table set up - tall tables, the pixie-8 on my left, the Beast on my right, and the cute 7 on the other side of the table back against the wall. The Beast pipes up "Oh, we needed to urinate." Classy. Negs all over this one, but she's completely unfazed. I think these girls are drunk.

The Beast lays into me with some "who are you?" bullshit and I handle her. It forces a round of introductions. The Beast and the 8 reach over and start manhandling each other, turns out they're lesbians. Figures. The pretty 7 in the back looks like she's having fun, but I think she's wasted. The lesbians are in control of this show. I challenge them, asking if they were "really" lesbians or if they just did this as a routine to keep away guys. The 8 pipes in that they have been going out for about a year. This is not a great routine but it keeps me in the set. Now they're fixated on ages. They make me guess everyone's age - I am way too high. I tell the bossy Beast she looks 29, turns out last week was her 21st birthday. Ha! The others are 23 and 24. Things are not looking promising. I make them guess my age, they guess 7 years younger than I really am. I fess up with my age (I'm such a shit head when it comes to truthfulness). This will shortly come back to haunt me.

I use my routines and it barely keeps me in the set. I use the dick-sucking piece which thrills the lesbians but makes the pretty but conservatively dressed 7 look a little disturbed. The "speaking Braille" routine falls flat. Either these girls are really drunk, a little stupid, or both. After I explain a little bit (practicing... Braille.... on a girl.... ) Duh! It finally clicks and elicits a chuckle but not nearly the peals of laughter I had from last night. The two lesbians go out side for a smoke, thankfully leaving me with the pretty 7.

She's cute in a girl-next-door sort of way, but obviously sheltered. Her head is wobbly from being tipsy. I slide into the Beast's seat to talk with the 7 almost over my shoulder, but with a posture that looks like I could get up and leave at any minute. She seems to be loving the attention and isn't afraid to rub her legs up against my elbow as I recline slightly on the barstool. I'm feeling definite A2 as we talk for a minute. Turns out she's not working, not a student, not doing anything. She went to baking school and hasn't gotten a job yet. Then the lesbos return and the Beast pitches a fit until I get out of her chair.

Gradually, like a slow motion train wreck, I see this set hitting the toilet. The Beast turns on the momma-bear instinct and starts protecting the 7. She freezes me out for being too old for her cute little 24 year old friend and tries to tell me to get lost. 7 girl doesn't protest because she is either too drunk to care or doesn't have a spine.

This was my first massive shit test out in the field, and frankly I was stumped. I didn't know what to do. I gave 7 girl one more chance for redemption but beastly lesbian planted herself firmly in charge. Instead of looking desperate or pleading, I took the "no-big-deal" high road and left the set. I consoled myself with the fact that I'd given the 7 a business card earlier in the interaction, but I know she won't use it.

There was no one else I wanted to talk to in the pub. It was a weird crowd. All fat girls and dudes. Leaving the pub, I went to check out some of my other places but they were packed like sardines, or the lines were crazy long to get in, or the crowd inside was awful. I checked out a nearby wine bar that looks like a promising spot for isolation/escalation, but was disappointed in how small and kind of lame it is. It is the only option on the nightclub district for a bounce to a less crowded, more intimate place, so I may just need to make it work. I checked out a popular Mexican restaurant with an upstairs lounge - the place is an absolute dump and the girls in the place are trailer-trash fatties. A pass through the my standard disco proves out my previous assessment - lots of HBs but too loud and jammed with people to open a set. It was jammed the night before, and Friday is not their "on" night. When you're smooshed up against some chump's sweaty back just trying to stand, (and everyone else is too), it's hard to open a set. I actually heard two girls shout at each other "This fucking sucks!" as they were trying to push through the crush of people. Sensing defeat, I pack it up and head for the car after about 2 hours of being out.

Total sets attempted: 1
Sets successfully opened: 1
# closes: 0
k-closes: 0

Lessons learned:

Going out when you're tired or not in a good frame of mind will kill your game, no matter how much you try to psych yourself up for it. Maybe if I had a wing or I was with a group of guys, I could have picked up on some of their energy. I forced myself to go out because it was Saturday night and I felt it was my obligation to do it. The problem was that my brain wasn't engaged. Sarging isn't second nature to me yet, so I've got to prime the pump. Nightclubs are not my favorite places. The one time I've had success at the clubs, I was rested and warmed up from sarging at the bookstore or at my favorite upscale grocery store. This time I hit the clubs cold turkey and it was a disaster.

I also had my first shit test today and I didn't do well. This ugly man-hating lesbian chick was completely killing my game, and at the time I saw no way I could get around her. She was not only playing guard dog for her friend, but she was a physical barrier between me and the 7. The Beast primarily shitted on me about my age, saying I was too old for their cute little petite friend. During our age-guessing routine they guessed my age at around 30, and if I had just left it there instead of fessing up about my age, I might have stayed in the set at least for a #close.

I caved at the shit test like a choad, and that I'm sure didn't score points with the 7, who likely does (and should) perceive me as weak. In hindsight I was thinking I could have gone around behind the Beast, offered my hand to the 7 to try to draw her out of the guarded position she was sitting in and and try to isolate her at least long enough to escalate a bit and get to #close. She was so far away on the other side of the table. Isolation is key, especially if the friends are as caustic as this bunch and the target is completely inaccessible.

Identifying and isolating the target appears to be THE crucial skill in sarging to a # or k-close. I seem to be doing OK opening sets and building value, but I'm not getting close to a kiss close. Instead of rapidly isolating the target and peeling her away, I spent 15 minutes trying to make the whole table like me. I also need to find a better place to sarge. The discos are filled with hot women but the places are tiny and the layout is awful. In the one disco I've been going to, last night I saw that they actually have a "VIP" area in the back, but I overhead that need to pay the doorman to get a sofa. I'm not going to even think about spending money on a VIP area until I can figure out how to sarge that place successfully. There is a string of three large bars all on one street on the other side of downtown. Next weekend I might try that section of town.

Timing may have a lot to do with my success in the disco. All nightspots go through a crowd phases, - empty, lightly crowded, completely slammed, then empty as the night starts to close. I have been arriving around 11:00, which probably sounds early but in my city is peak. Timing my visit earlier before the place gets completely loaded might be a better strategy. If I was willing to stand out in below freezing temperatures I might have been able to find a good set to chat up in line, but my choad brain was not thinking like that. I had failure written all over me so I just went home.