1,000 Approaches… I Finally Got Laid from Daygame

Wow. 1000 approaches. I smile when I say that, but I think that’s about right. I swore I was going to count them, but I know now that I’m not going to. Most of the stats are buried in this blog. At about 5 miles per session, I have the worn out shoes to prove them.

5 hundred before Japan. 80 daygame sets in Shibuya. Another 100+ when I got back. A year of mental instability and a LTR that took me offline for a time. My slow recovery. Then 100 more girls in April, 100 in June, 100 in July. Slowing down, retooling, and a few dozen in August… but that’s when I met her. Last night… sex with a girl I met on the street. Cold-approach love. She was 17 years younger than me, and very cute by my standards.

I would feel more hang-dog than I do now about those stats… except the good man Nick Krauser is very candid about his stats. And I read his book Balls Deep (along with everything else he’s ever written), and I think he was 1200 girls “deep” after his divorce before a Thai girl popped his street game cherry. Or was it the black girl on NYE?? His daygame results opened up quite a bit after that, as we know. I am hoping mine will as well.

For now… a long, deep, respectful bow to the master Nick Krauser and his many thoughtful lessons and examples. Thank you, man. For all of us. But mostly for me. What a thing to teach.

And thank you Yohami. A more recent teacher. And a relentless one. I’m not sure you’ll like this story — I know sex with a girl doesn’t prove I’m on the path — but I appreciate your tutelage. Your lessons have been a part of anything I’ve done lately, this one included.

Anyway, can you imagine telling a newbie he might need 1000 cold approaches before he scored his first street-game lay? And the first 100 will all be pure heart attack, every time? Ready to sign up for that? With Yohami in his ear telling him he was wasting his time (and Yohami is right about so much). The poor bastard. Of course he wouldn’t want on that ride. It was much more fun than it sounds, though. Almost everyday out there was a good day, made me feel proud. Brought me in contact with… literally 1000 women I was attracted to. It only took my wing maybe 100 girls to get laid, twice (Go Hurricane!)… not everyone has to do it “the hard way.”

I got a lot of action from the skills I learned in daygame before I ever got laid. I had been in game for years… but couldn’t really number close effectively, I sucked at it. The sheer volume of daygame got me over that quick (with many more opportunities than I was getting at night game or hustling girls in cafes), and I ported that skill to other game, and that got me dates, makeouts, and lays in the rest of my life.

The girl I followed down the stairs out of a restaurant in Japan was not what I’d call daygame, but it started by chasing a girl down, direct approach, and ended w/ a SDL a few hours later. The girl I made out with at Burning Man last week was basically a daygame approach… but it was after midnight and I was slightly drunk. I don’t think I ever blogged about the sex I had with the painter, which wasn’t good, but was still fun, and was fueled by confidence from daygame. My swagger with the Tokyo Queen was fueled, in part, by the dates and makeouts I was getting from daygame when I started dating her. My stats have not been impressive, but I still racked up dates w/ a dozen girls, practicing logistics, making out and escalating. Those skills are noticeably better now. I know my city better now. I own all that.

So this is how the night went… it was our 3rd date:

NASH: Hey Taiwanese Girl. For tonight, come meet me in my neighborhood. Maybe take the train to my station. I live two blocks from there.

She is the master of super brief text game. Over 1/2 her texts are just “Yep.” I could learn from her in that way.

She looked cute. Sneakers, every time I see her, she’s in sneakers. No socks, and creamy skin up to a leather skirt. Black shirt, a bit open in the back. Fancy Adidas (All-Day-I-Dream-About-Sex) track jacket. And those big, dark eyes. Very wide-set, deep, lovely eyes.

I had her meet me at my place… to get her comfortable with my house so it would be easier to get her back there later… one of the first logistical lessons that game taught me, so long ago. We all know that one. I also knew she liked cats… and mine are an adorable tag-team, and I figured they would add to the comfort and fun. They were charming and on point, and she loved them. She is very into animals. So am I.

Before we left, I said, “Oh, I want something from you,” and pulled her in for a kiss. She was pliable and lovely.

From my house we took a car to a restaurant I love. I slipped a hand into hers as we waited. I had them seat us side by side, like I always do on dates. The place was funky and stylish. The food was delicious.

At one point during dinner I asked what part of her body she liked best, she said her eyes… that’s kind of cheating, but she does have nice eyes. I took it further, asked what color her nipples were – pink or purple? She acted a little shocked and argued with me that they were neither. I told her most girls had either pink or purple. She said, maybe purple, if she was cold? I then asked my trademark question about how she likes to come. And the shock was not an act this time. She stared at me. I held her gaze, comfortably. Full vacuum. She refused to answer and blushed. I teased her, and then changed the subject. I ask that question all the time. Usually on first dates, not on the 3rd. She’s the only girl that has not given me an answer.

I took her next door to this place that was supposed to have classical music… but we were there early, and it was Afro-Caribbean music, loud and frenetic. I liked it, and lead her to a place where we could stand. It was too much for her. 1 song later she tugged on my hand and we left. She said she was tired. I asked if she wanted to come back to my house for some of the tea she and I bought on our last date. She liked that idea.

Cats. Tea. I kissed her. She asked if I wanted to sit down. I am not particularly slick about transitioning from my kitchen (where I hang out in my house) to my bedroom. In this case, her comment got me to take her to the couch. She cuddled in this blanket I hate, that I inherited from my ex (the one who’s boobs I made out with last month). That blanket is lame, but all girls love it. I have a blanket I like much better, “the love blanket,” which all girls hate. Girls make no sense.

At one point she asked suddenly how old I was. “Much older than you,” I said, “at least 10 years.” She asked if I was in my forties? “Yes. And you?” 26, she said. That’s what I thought. There was a part of me that thought she’d freeze up when she knew how old I was. There was acknowledgment, but she didn’t seem to flinch at all.

We made out. I was pinning her arms back, and she was telling me I was going too fast, and she just wanted to cuddle. She would kiss me, but was mostly silent. I could get occasional moans out of her… she likes having her neck bitten.

She was very floppy, but gave me little feedback. Those little moans were an occasional trail of breadcrumbs… I tried to follow them. Hands on her neck… on her ass… looking for what she responds to.

I asked my question again, about how she likes to come. And she said “maybe, cock,” she seemed excited for a minute, and pulled me in as she said it. Not fingers, she said. Mouth sometimes…

I told her I wanted to take her clothes off. She told me, “just cuddle,” in her adorable accent, while she smiled. I told her I was going to get her naked, but not yet. Eventually I told her I was taking her to my bedroom. And off we went.

Making out, clothes on. Then, her bra was unsnapped. Then that shirt. Her nipples were surprisingly big, and delicious… and purple indeed. Big eyes, white skin, purple nipples, and black hair against the white sheets. Red glow from the colored bulbs that frame my windows to the street.

I asked if her skirt had a zipper, and she said it did. I found it, that skirt came off. Buttery skin and a surprisingly nice, full little ass.

And then… she fell asleep. Like I said, she was relatively passive, and quiet, and I could just explore her, but she didn’t participate much. Not full “starfish,” but a curled up version of that. She would go along with just about anything I wanted to do, but I had to physically move her body into position each time. She was comfortable, not scared like I thought she might be, but she was quiet a lot as a I escalated. As she passed out, I was surprised. I changed my clothes. I laid there for a while thinking my game truly sucked. I wasn’t that horny, but I was disappointed. I thought I had missed the window and that she’d think I was a child for not making it happen and I wouldn’t get a second chance. It was still a good experience, but I wanted more from it.

She woke up in the middle of the night, and seemed wide awake for a time. We made out some more. I took her panties off, finally. It was momentarily hot between us again, maybe more than before, but still not what I’d call passionate. I pushed things along a bit more, hand working between her legs, and it felt forced and no moans. More quiet from her. Stillness. She went a-sexual on me, curled up again, and we slept some more.

It was morning. We had slept maybe 10 hours, which is remarkable for a first time sleep over. I never really sleep in situations like that… but with her, we did. Maybe she was genuinely tired. She told me later she only slept 3 hours the night before.

I got up, got some water, and crawled up against her ass. She stirred some more. I sucked her ear, and she rolled closer to me, and onto her belly, head facing away, hip against my stomach. I climbed on top of her, spread her legs, scissored a leg in-between her thighs and got a good look at her ass in the morning light. I got up on her, started to get myself going, little moans… I was turned on. I stood up, grabbed a condom. Made a show of putting it on so it was clear what I was up to. I almost had to force it in… she was so ridiculously tight. More little moans.

The sex… was brief and selfish. No pride in that. But she felt amazing. I came and held her, and kissed her after, and curled up with her, me still inside her. Her lips were puffy and full and pouty, purple, like those nipples. Her big eyes were shiny. She was smiling and happy. Coy. She was milking the cuteness. I told her so. She was having a good morning.

One of the many great things about my house is that there is a coffee place about 75 yards from my front door. I brought back a double latte in a medium cup and a large genmaicha for myself. She was curled up, dark locks spilling on the pillows, peeking at me over the covers.

We sipped in bed, ate strawberries and played with my cats. She loves them.

Conversation was easy, but a bit boring. She’s a wonderful girl, and an excellent experience for this old, white beast, but I know I wouldn’t see her often if she was staying in the US… which she is not. She would be very fun to date along with some other women, but this won’t last long.

As it is… she has less than two weeks left. I have no doubt we’ll see each other again before she goes. I’ll set up the next date some time today.

There it is. It’s not glamorous or dressed up, but it’s real. The notch hyena gets another bite. I get, as the Brit’s from RSG would say… another flag.


To celebrate… I am going to go through my phone and delete dozens of dead numbers. A purge of junk to celebrate losing my virginity (again).

I think of all the times I met a girl on the street, thinking she might be the one that I’d sleep with. The Japanese dentist visiting for the year. The tall Russian-Asian girl eating the banana as I opened her. The little Taiwanese girl I took for tea. The intern from Mexico City. Of course, the girl I overgamed in July. The Venezuelan girl that kissed my cheek as we ended the set. The Brazilian woman that was here, travelling alone. Ha. Nope. It was this one.

To you, you beautiful young thing… thank you for your tender inspiration, your mouth, your clever perspective, and your soft flesh. You are another “first” for an old vampire and you were delicious. I look forward to tasting you again.

Viva daygame. You finally provide. And you are definitely making me a better man. And the curse of the summer is broken… at last.