8:30 p.m. It’s a pretty mellow scene but of course I know how to spot the one bad seed. Surprise, surprise, it’s one of the bartenders. He has a twinkle in his eye and we are flirting. I try to nurse one glass of red wine, sipping very slowly. I ask the bartender, “Is this as fun as it gets out here?” And boom, we’re off: He has the tiniest amount of cocaine and slips it to me with a cocktail napkin.
8:45 p.m. I finish his coke, which was not much, and just when I leave the bathroom, I make eye contact with my sister. I don’t think she knows anything but I just feel like shit. I don’t want to do more coke. Now I just want to go home and cry.
He may have been thinking same-night lay (SNL) and not gotten it. A few days later,
1:30 p.m. I get a seat at the bar. Without even asking what I want, the bartender delivers me his special bloody mary. Ah shit here we go. It goes down really nice … it’s a fucking delicious bloody. I order the veggie burger and take out my book. Another bloody arrives.
2:30 p.m. I’m drunk and my veggie burger was great. The bartender is off at 3. I tell him to text me when he’s done and that I’m going to go shopping on the street there. We all know where this is going….
2:45 p.m. I look at my phone as I leave the restaurant. A text from my ex: He wants to know if I want to take a warm trip together this weekend … he just found some deal to Turks. This is a total surprise! It throws me off. I walk back to my sister’s thinking about my options and totally forgetting about the bartender.
If this bartender posted to The Red Pill or a seduction forum, guys would ask about his stack. Is she invested enough? Is his game tight? Was his frame strong?
Some of them would say he’s being a beta b***h by giving her food and drink without her f**king him first.
The true answer, however, is internal to the chick… her emotional state swerves and so the bartender is forgotten, and she returns home un-f**ked. He was probably within an hour of f**king her, maybe less… most external “game” analysis is irrelevant to this situation. I’m fond of saying chicks are random and this is an example of their randomness.
What’s the difference between the bartender and this other guy?
I came home all fucked up at 6 in the morning, and I had had unprotected sex — one of the first and only times I’ve ever did that. The guy was some budding musician-rapper. I took the pill and dealt with it, but I was still disgusted with myself.
This musician-rapper was in the right place at the right time. The bartender was at the right place at the wrong time. One got the lay and one didn’t, with neither one having the “wrong” game in this chick’s view.
If the bartender posted online about the experience, most of the speculative analysis would be wrong… she was on the way to getting f**ked, but her emotional state changed and suddenly she wasn’t. Chicks live in a stew of emotions most guys cannot comprehend. That’s part of what makes them bond to their own children very fast and part of what makes most of them poorly suited to most high-level corporate and government positions.
The right thing for the bartender to do is hit on more chicks. He’s a bartender so maybe he knows that’s the solution to any one chick’s randomness.
I emphasize this story not because it’s special but because it’s average. Same girl, different situations, different outcomes, for reasons outside the guy’s control. Novice players often don’t appreciate how random chicks are. The opposite can happen too. I’ve f**ked chicks the night I met them not because my game was so tight but because the chick was in an emotional or physical mood to get f**ked. Guys are the fishermen, women are the fish.