I was out hunting today, it felt great. I was with Young Guns, coaching him a little. Took a couple numbers… Including one from a very cute 19 year old. Wow. But that’s not what I want to talk about.
I got a bogus number today.
She was my 3rd approach, a cute little Vietnamese girl… I’m guessing American born, as she had no accent. As she passed me I was interested. As I looked back… great ass on that girl.
I was feeling solid, and alive, and powerful, and she stopped easily. She was unsure of me at first, but she stood there listening and checking me out as I spit my game. She told me she was from NYC, and I made a joke “,Oh!… I’ve heard of that place… East Coast, right?”
I think that joke (and the ones that followed) got her to hook a bit. That, and the fact that I’m increasingly comfortable with these girls, as if we’ve know each other forever… instead of the “two-to-ten-minute” interactions that start each of the street romances I have tried to chronicle here.
I had told her my name, but she asked for it again as her interest gelled… Or so it seemed.
I jumped into logistics… I didn’t have a date for that night, and I was definitely entertaining the idea of a same-day date or SDL. We are in peak tourist season here. My place was clean and ready. I was ready.
It was her last night here in this city, and those words are a kind of music to a daygamers ears — that can be an ideal scenario for fast-sex. I fucked the 22 year old Korean two weeks ago in exactly that set-up. If a girl is out traveling, she hasn’t had her fill of adventure, “the last night” might tempt her into some grotty discretion before she leaves.
So, logistics… This is something I got good at in Japan:
How long are you here? Where are you staying? Who are you traveling with? What are you doing now? What are your plans for tonight?? All this, mixed with some attraction and some comfort. You want the logistics fast (because you don’t have much time), but you also need to keep charming her, build that connection. I was trying to do both.
She was on her way to have coffee with a friend. She had no plans for the night, had an early flight the next day, said she didn’t want to stay out late.
I asked her to join me for dinner. I said I knew this was all happening “a little fast,” but it was her last night. Did she like ramen? Yes. I told her I was a ramen expert (which I am not), and she quizzed me on the place I had in mind. We were very cute together, great banter, it was going well.
So I pulled out my phone and took her number, handing her the phone to key in the digits. I considered doing the ole’ “here, I’ll call you so you have mine…”, but I did not. In retrospect, it’s funny I thought of that. Maybe that was sheer chance, or maybe I was picking up on something? Maybe my “Spidey Sense” was tingling?
She seemed into it. Not like a wild “Yes” girl, but there was a dirty little sparkle in her eyes. I love that kind of sparkle. And good for her… it was a dirty moment.
When she teased me about the ramen, that was all playfulness, and a lot of investment. She didn’t have to do any of that. If she wanted to get rid of me, no need to banter. At that point, I was thinking 50% she’ll come out. I thought she liked the plan. It felt on. And it was clear to me I wasn’t forcing myself on her.
It was only a few hours until this (potentially hot) “ramen date” of ours, so I pinged her via text. I was feeling good about my opening moves:
NASH: Happy Coffeetime to you and your little friend, Miss Wishbone.
NASH: — Nash
She had been wearing a gold wishbone around her neck. We didn’t talk about in the set, so I thought it was a cool move to bring that little unbidden detail back as a nickname.
I put the phone in my pocket and had a cocky-swag as I went off to run some more approaches. Checked my phone a few minutes later and then, from a random number:
“+1413-555-5555 is a landline #. Reply Y to send all TXT messages to this # as voice messages for 0.25/msg.+ std msg fee. Details @ vtext.com, TexttoLandline”
Ugggg. That’s not good. Did she give me a bogus number? (“555” was not the actual number she gave me.)
I called it, just to be sure… And it said:
“Welcome to Verizon Wireless. The number you called cannot be connected as dialed…”
Something like that.
Bogus number! Burned. I’d already bragged to Young Guns about it… I had to confess and tell him I got played. SMH.
And that reminds me of this other time…
That set was much less solid. She was kind of telling me “no,” but she was clearly stimulated by the approach and it was all good fun. I pushed a bit for the number, and she gave it to me. Cool, I thought.
Pinged her later that night. Nothing.
A few days later, I tried again:
NASH: Hey Tina.
NASH: Just got back from a trip to Santa Barbara and LA… CA is so beautiful right now.
RANDOM DUDE: yo dude, think you got the wrong Number. Ain’t no Tina here
NASH: Hey… Cool man. Picked up a girl and this is the number she gave me. Thanks.
RANDOM DUDE: Sorry dude, happens to everyone
In the middle of that, he even sent a selfie. He was a cool guy. Totally funny situation.
^ That’s the actual pic he sent
So that one burned me with a fake number too.
Not a big deal, and certainly no hard feelings toward these girls… They didn’t ask for my attention. And they have every right to throw me off.
In fact… I wouldn’t call any of this “flaking.” That’s one part of the community I think that is a disservice to our own psychologies… Unless a girl makes a commitment, she’s not “flaking” on you. A girl that never returns a text is just not interested in you… that’s not the same as a flake. So these girls didn’t flake. They just brushed me off in a somewhat unusual way.
I have one more story like this from last Fall. This girl really “got” me. It was a long set, about 10 minutes, felt like such a good connection. I liked her so much, I didn’t want to approach any more after I took her number. I was hooked.
(Maybe men really are the “romantics pretending to be realists.” I was that day, that’s for sure. I’m still trying to unlearn this… untelling one pretty lie at a a time.)
I texted her before I got on the train to go home.
NASH: Hi Shanghai
NASH: You were fun and charming tonight…
NASH: Really fun to meet you.
NASH: — Nash
When I got back above ground a message popped up. And… Just like with the girl from NYC, it was an error message saying I had texted a landline. When I called it, it was no longer in service.
That was last Fall. I have learned a few lessons since that day and I have had some success since I posted about her. I have learned a bit more about female psychology, and I am less surprised. I have thicker skin now… but that one stung at the time.
A week later, in the comments of a different post, talking about a different girl, Yohami gave me
shit some coaching about it:
“This is where you go off frame. Maybe it’s because ‘you really like her’, from the same guy who was heartbroken because one girl gave you a bad phone number.”
It is easy for me to recall Yohami’s comment from seven months ago, as I got (very mildly) burned again this week. Because I knew then… he was right. He was pointing to my naivete, and also how letting this stuff get under my skin is to defeat myself. And how that attitude in a man shows up across his life. And how there is only one person that can do anything about it, and that’s me.
But that’s about my psychology. In this case, I’m more interested in hers.
Let’s go back to the first girl again… What was she thinking as she gave me that bogus number??
Was she afraid of me? Or not afraid, but wanted to brush me off? Did she think it was easy to give me a “yes” at the time, and let me find out it was really a “no” later? Was she nervous as she gave me the bogus number, knowing it was a type of lie? Or does she do this all the time? No big deal. It’s fun for her… a kind of game where she gets to send another random boy spinning off to nowhere? Another vignette in the Battle of the Sexes.
The set was fun. Like I said, she hooked, and she was a lively and active participant in that encounter. She asked questions. She played with me. And in the end, she sent me off with a dead number.
I love thinking of her — as I write this — looking me in the eyes, knowing she was fucking with me. I really do… that little mind of hers.
I think a lot of time, the girl is truly ambiguous about the pickup. On the one hand, you’re a total fucking stranger. On the other, you’ve got charm. She doesn’t know you… But you’re easy to talk to. This is an odd way to meet… but the other men in her life are mostly lame and low value. It’s risky to get mixed up with strangers… but it’s also exciting.
All that (and more) must go thru their heads. And just imagine all the accompanying emotions. Her turn on. Her anxiety. All the memories of past encounters with “cool guys.” All her insecurities. All her expectations. That nagging “want” between her thighs…
It’s no wonder she might give you mixed signals. If she’s not really careful, she’ll end up with your cock insider her. And she’s right about that. Even if she is really careful… she might end up “taken” by a bad man. I want to be that bad man.
All these “nice little girls.”
The Madonna/whore thing goes well beyond sex. The temptation to reduce girls to “one or the other” is real… But it’s a mistake. The girls in this post that gave me the bogus numbers are not “bad girls” (whatever that means)… These are just aspects of the games we play in the sexual marketplace.
I am bummed the little New Yorker didn’t date me that night. And that she didn’t end up on her back, in my bed, with my face in her pussy. But I’m not mad. Not at all.
It’s so interesting to me. All the shades of female psychology.
And since then, I’ve taken a few more numbers…
Yesterday when I was out, I picked up a Thai girl with a fantastic body. I approached her and let her go… wasn’t sure about her face. But then I saw her again a bit later… unbelievable body, so I reopened her and closed her. As it came time to take her number, I said, “Okay, call me.” And she did.
I felt my pocket vibrate as her call came in, and we looked into each other’s eyes and I tapped my pocket and told her I had it.
I know that number is solid. And I know female psychology is wild… after all this time, I hit the street, I hunt, I mix it up, and there are surprises every day.