Not a problem mate,was a pleasure to meet you.
So when you out next?
P.s Dont forget to buy " The rules of the game " by Neil strauss.

To be honest, it didn't really stop us at any point. Despite guys seeming to out number girls 10-1, we did open the sets that we saw. Take Peacocks for example. There could only have been 3 or 4 non-mixed sets in there. But we pretty much opened them all where we could.


Been trying to do this for months. But you're dead right - as soon as I run out of things to say, I fuck off. I need to really fucking work on that. Improv, praps...

Just tell me the time and the place man, and I'll be there!!

Good to be back!

I'll make sure I pick up that book man didn't really know what I should be doing winging etc. I'm out tonight actually but not with the aim of pick up. Although I will open at least one set. I have been bitten by the pick up bug now

Tonight was a good night. My goals remain modest, but I know the areas where I need to improve and get better. I made a few small steps tonight, but they were steps in the right direction.

My sticking points were two fold: The first was a tendency to eject prematurely, at the first sign of danger. My second was a tendency to engage girls in conversation primarily about custard. This week I've been reading a bit of Gunwitch. Two of the central planks of Gunwitch's philosophy are to stay in set until you're dragged out kicking and screaming - 'Make the ho say no'. And another is to open conversation with pretty much anything. (There is much more to Gunwitch than this, of course, but go read his stuff to find it out).

And one other thing I wanted to do tonight. You see, I've got this terrible affliction: I really, really care what other people think about me. Everywhere in my life, I am terrifically cautious the second I think something I'm doing might cause offence, or might cause people to dislike me or argue with me. This has translated itself into my Game as well, leading to a hopelessly cautious, self destructively rigid style of game where I have tried to play safe and construct comfort zones just like the custard opener.

So tonight, I wanted to challenge myself to not give a shit what someone thought of me. And the way I was going to do this was to open a set with the following sentence:

Hello girls, allow me to introduce myself. I'm Boris, an alien from the planet cheese. I'm on earth looking for intelligent life. Have you seen any?

So, going into tonight, my goals were no custard, no caring what people thought, and no ejecting before my time.

I met with Chris (Darkstar) and James (sorry man - forgot your pseudonym!) in Hannah's at 9pm, and watched the end of the match. We headed off to Scream, packed with 17 year olds as it always is. Scream is a good place to go early, always busy and lively and usually some sets to work with.

Chris opened a few sets, and was doing well. For my part, AA was kicking in big time. Once or twice I'd spotted a set, but found all sorts of reasons to not open. And I began to get angry with myself. Another 10 minutes later, and Chris spied a seated three set at a table next to the window. He said they looked bored - they were all sat down texting, not really doing a great deal.

It took me a few seconds to get the bottle together to turn and approach. A few seconds where I came dangerously close to making more poor excuses for non-action. But then my feet turned, and I started to walk towards them. The hard part was over now. There was no way I wasn't going to say anything.

I sat down.

CO: Hey, are you girls bored?

Girls: Uhh....?

CO: Cos every time I look over you guys are texting. You're not texting each other are you?

The girls laughed, and I ribbed them a bit before chatting on. I used the same old fluffs I always use - who are you guys out with, where are you from, etc. Such boring conversation, I need to really fucking work on that shit!

So, after a minute or two, conversation began to wane. I turned slightly to get up and leave... But then turned back, and managed to say something else to keep the conversation flowing (fuck knows what I said). Then Chris and James came over and very helpfully winged, and the set took off. I isolated (well - got into a one on one conversation) with one of the girls. Good conversation as well, we joked about the ring she was wearing, we talked about dentistry (she was a dentist), she asked me what I do and I again said I was a professional dolphin shaver. We joked more, and I told her maybe she could be a professional dolphin dentist. It was pretty cool.

I didn't close with this girl. I didn't fancy her a great deal (she said she was a dentist, but she had a gap between her front teeth you could ride a donkey through. Go figure), although maybe I should have pushed for a number close just for the hell of it. Either way, we ejected after 15 minutes or so of conversation which, when I put my back into it, was actually quite good fun!

I was buzzing after this. Absolutely thrilled. We left scream, and as we turned the corner, I saw a two set coming the other way. AA melted, I walked over to them:

Hey girls, I just want to introduce myself. My names Boris. And I'm an alien...

They probably thought I was totally fucking weird. I think one of them said 'You're really weird'. But fuck it - why should I care what they think? Daft really.

The night cooled after that. I should have bounced on into more sets, but I had a few more bouts of AA in Heebie Jeebies. I winged more, but didn't open again. At one point there was a seated two set just crying out to be opened. Chris told me to open them. He even counted to three several times. But my feet remained rooted. I need to beat this AA, and just get on with it. What's the worst that can happen?

However, there are positives. I didn't ask a single girl about custard tonight. I used a good natural opener, and had good natural conversation. These are good things.

And, remember: I'm still only just getting back into my game. In the past, I've compared one's pick up skills to a muscle like any other, and the field to a gym. The more you get to the gym and lift heavier weights, the bigger and stronger that muscle will get. But don't go the gym for a few months, and it hurts a bit the first few times when you start going again.

I will get over this AA. All it needs is a little persistence. And the mood I'm in at the moment, I will persist, and I will fucking succeed!

Onwards, my winged friends, for tonight we flew to freedom!!

..........Like I say, I'm from the Planet Cheese

Good Field Report CO! It's great to see you're getting out there again.

This is a big sticking point for me also. When I look back at sets where I ejected way too early I just feel silly. Actually, Monkeybuster and I were out last weekend in Bristol. I went into a 2 set, both a swiss girl and a spanish girl that spoke very little english. Just as I was about to make my excuses to leave MB came into the set which forced me to stick around. I actually ended up having a good interaction with the spanish girl. I suppose it's kind of how AA works. Your mind is kind of telling you the set is going a lot worse than it actually is.

I used to really care about what people thought of me. I'm just sort of getting over that now myself. I'll leave you with some wise words from Katt Williams...

LOL! "Feel free to sit there and say my hair ain't luxurious, when you know it is bitch!"

ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!!!

That's pretty much what happened last night - it was only when Chris and James came over that I was finally locked into the set, and it went really well from there.

The next thing I need to do, I guess, is to stay in sets even longer. I need to find my first set thats going to last for an hour. I seem to have this idea that a set shouldn't last more than fifteen minutes. But why not get used to the idea that, sometimes when I approach a girl or a group of girls, I might spend much of the rest of the night with her?

Absofuckinlutely! Its probably going fine. But you're just freakin out. 100% spot on there man!

I went on a date last night.

A little background - no-one was out on Friday night (the night before last), and after a week of being stressed out at work and with the flat to myself, I decided to have a night in and chill out. One thing led to another, and I ended up spending an hour or so on Plenty of Fish despite having said many times in the past that 'I'm done with internet dating.'

Then again, I regularly say I'm 'never drinking again', I often mutter that I'm 'masturbating less from now on', and almost daily pledge to 'stop spending money on ridiculous items' like elastic band guns.

Will power is overrated...

Anyway, after messaging a fair number of girls and adding 4 or 5 on Facebook, I settled on a young girl called Rasa. Rasa was Lithuanian. She wasn't stunning, of course. I've always said there is a reason that the girls who use internet dating use internet dating (although clearly I've not said that enough to refrain from using said websites myself), and I guess Rasa was no exception. However, her Facebook profile contained one picture in particular where she was featured in a short floaty skirt, with long, slim legs protruding beneath. This was reason enough for me to want to see her for real.

So, last night, we met up. This involved myself shamelessly bailing on my wings, Relentless and Darkstar, to whom I had promised a gaming venture to St Helens. Sorry about that guys - the prospect of sex with an Eastern European girl was too much to resist!

As per our conversation the night before, I decided to take her up to Crosby beach. The idea was that we would walk in the rain and get freezing cold, before returning to the car where I would have a flask and a blanket waiting. We'd curl up on the back seat beneath the blanket, sipping tea, my Jack Johnson CD humming away, and that this would present me with a cosy opportunity to get to know this (still potentially beautiful) young Lithuanian girl a lot better.

...At least, that was the plan.

The whole problem with internet dating is that its a bit too much like buying shit wine from Tesco. You can read the label, which always sounds great. You look at the pictures, and they're pretty good too. And you totally fall for the marketing spiel about 'walnut and strawberry flavours with a hint of whale spunk' or whatever. But until you actually buy it and go through with opening the bottle, you never quite know what you're gonna get.

And worse - if you don't like it, you're stuck with it for the rest of the night.

I drove to pick her up from Lime Street station. As I parked up, she rang saying she was already there, and would meet me by WH Smiths. I turned the corner, and walked towards the shop. And there she was. There's always this moment with internet dating, when you first see each other. You always hug, of course. But as you approach each other, in those three seconds you scan your date up and down, and immediately come to a conclusion about what you've got. I suppose, if Rasa watched me closely enough, she'd have detected a hint of disappointment in my face as we approached: She was lightly pretty, I guess. But she wasn't quite the stunning Eastern European beauty I had hoped for. She had what I would politely call prominent teeth (in a less polite, drunken moment, I might have alternatively said 'she's got a face like a horse), an unusually shaped face which sort of reminded me of a Scream mask, and from the moment we met I could sense the distinct smell of Olibas Oil. She quickly explained this latter point, saying she was suffering from a cold. Alas, I wondered, why on earth had she agreed to go for an evening walk on the beach in the rain, when surely a warm coffee shop would have been a much better idea?

Nonetheless, for all my criticism, she had some redeeming features. She did have very pretty eyes, and long black hair that fell seductively over the right of them. If there's one thing that never fails to get me wound up, its when I see a girl with that 'hair over one eye' look. I wonder if that's just me? She was also very slim, and had a great figure. She was wearing jeans, and as I looked down at them I couldn't help but remember that photo... Ok, so this clearly wasn't the start of a long romance. But, I reasoned - I wouldn't mind having sex with her...

We got in the car and drove the half hour north to Crosby beach. As we drove, we chatted happily. I was utterly intrigued at how differently a Lithuanian might hold a conversation. I had imagined earlier that it would be more up front, with less of the reserve of British girls. As we spoke, my expectations were proven well founded. Within half an hour, she had asked me if I had ever been married, ever had kids, what my expectations were with marriage, if I believed in marriage, if I'd ever been on Plenty of Fish dates before, what happened on them, why, what did I look for in a girl, what was my opinion of foreigners living in England, etc etc. She didn't bother hedging questions. If she wanted to say something, she just said it. I quite liked that about her, I found it totally endearing.

Anyway, we pulled up at the edge of Crosby beach. The rain was pelting down, the beach deserted, the wind whipping in across the Mersey. We fastened our coats, and I took my shoes and socks off. I have recently spent a month volunteering in Mozambique, and for 95% of my time there I and the other volunteers lived barefoot. I was looking forward to the feeling of sand between my toes and the earth beneath my feet again. Rasa, for her part, kept her boots on. She thought I was crazy.

We walked along the beach (it turns out Crosby beach in mid-September is nothing like Mozambique - after 15 minutes I couldn't feel my feet anymore), and talked. I was thoroughly enjoying not gaming Rasa. For some reason, I took the fact that she was foreign to mean I didn't need to worry about making statements-plus-questions or any of that stuff. All I did was chatted about the things I wanted to chat about. This in itself was incredibly liberating, and I found the practice of just talking to a girl after months away from gaming did me some good.

After half an hour, soaking wet and freezing cold, we headed back to the car. Of course, this was my moment to hatch my blanket plan. I unlocked the car, went to the boot, and chucked a blanket on the back seat. I pulled out a flask of boiling tea, and headed for the driver's door. But alas, I had been too slow. Rasa had already made herself comfortable in the passenger seat, and was busily unwrapping chocolate she had brought from home. I dumped myself in the drivers seat next to her, pissed off that there was to be no back seat canoodling, and pulled a towel around my feet. Ah well, I thought, there was plenty of time yet.

We weren't sure of what to do, but she said 'You're the boss tonight - you decide.' So we drove back into town, and hitched up at Hannah's Bar. We headed upstairs, where I turned to go into the room with sofas in. We'd been on the date for 3 hours now, and had done the whole romantic thing with the beach and the rain. Now I wanted to cash in, and I wanted to kiss her. A sofa was the perfect place to do this. Every date I've ever been on, sitting next to each other on a sofa has never failed to result in a kiss.

But Rasa didn't want to sit in the room with the sofas. She turned the other way, and headed for the room with tables and chairs. For fuck sake woman, don't you get what's happening here?! I am trying to work a way to kiss you, I would be tremendously grateful if you would fucking co-operate!

We sat at a table, and I ordered a pint of bitter and a glass of wine. We chatted more, as I racked my brains for ideas of how to kiss her. Here, I got a few bouts of what I suppose would be called AA. I wanted to just lean in and kiss her. But I couldn't do it. I thought I could ask her to teach me the Lithuanian for 'Kiss me Rasa'. But fuck that sounded cheesy. I held her hand, awkwardly, and tried to keep up kino (which I'd been consciously doing since the beginning of the date). But nothing would work. I even tried to use Gunwitch's approach at one point - imagining myself fucking her as we spoke to charge me with sexual energy. It certainly charged something up - immediately after doing so I consciously became incredibly leery, and told her how beautiful her eyes were at a complete tangent to the conversation. She seemed surprised. Of course she seemed surprised, the conversation had flipped quite unexpectedly from 'Wigan is a strange place to live, but its almost as big as the third biggest city in Lithuania' to 'You know you've got such beautiful eyes'. Clearly this is an approach to be carefully applied in the future, but practice makes perfect.

Rasa's cold escalated a little while we were sat down. She said she couldn't work out why, but I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact she'd just agreed to go and walk in the pissing rain on a beach for half an hour. Stupid woman. The time was only 10pm, but already she was talking about having to go home. She had work this morning and had to be up at 5am (she told me this before we'd met, to be fair, it wasn't an excuse). Fine, I said, I'd give her a lift home.

We stood and I pulled my sodden coat over my shoulders. We headed back downstairs. As we did, I was kicking myself, telling myself to stop being such a fucking pussy and kiss the girl. As we headed outside and reached my car, I finally lost patience with myself. Rasa turned to get into the passenger door. As she did, I said 'Woah woah, hang on, back here'. She came and stood in front of me. I said to her 'since I'm the boss tonight, I want a kiss before we head back'.

She blushed. Of course she fucking blushed, it was a shit cheesy line. But then stood closer to me, raised her face to mine... And slopped a huge, messy kiss across my mouth. This was in itself surprisingly un-British. Its normally polite to begin kissing with the lips, and then gradually insert an increasing portion of ones tongue into the recipients mouth, until a tongue-to-tongue situation is achieved. But for Rasa, this seemed unnecessary. Long, long before our lips had met, her tongue had plunged into my mouth and was lapping around my wisdom teeth. When our lips finally did meet, it was only to contain the pool of saliva which was welling at the bottom of our mouths. The strangest kiss I've ever had by a long way. I pulled back not a little surprised, and got in the car. I couldn't make my mind up whether I liked that or not...

I drove her home, taking the opportunity to deliver a lengthy monologue on Why The Cribs Are Boss. We got back to her house, and sat outside in the car. We made tentative plans to meet up in the week, although in retrospect I don't plan to do so. She turned to me, and delivered a final spit-dripping kiss across most of the lower part of my face. Then she turned, and got out of the car. There was to be no sex tonight, it seemed. The only thing that had become hard and wet was my chin.

I drove off, pulling up 50 yards up the street to wash my mouth out with the luke warm tea remaining in the flask - it seems during our drive home, Rasa had developed something of a breath issue. My face smelt rotten. I pulled up to a petrol station to buy some cigarettes, and drove 20 minutes home reflecting on the night passed.

Thoughts

1. Have fun dates. As strange as this one turned out to be, it was incredible fun going to the beach and walking barefoot in the rain. Be creative, for your own good. There's more to do with a girl than sit in a bar with her. Just make sure you're clear about precisely where you plan on drinking your tea...

2. Foreign girls are very different to English girls. If you ever get the chance to date one, I would strongly urge you to go and find one, and take her out. Its amazing how differently you react.

3. Lithuanian chocolate is tasty, but alas, nothing special.

4. Never be afraid to kiss a girl on a date. Its annoying I've had to write that, but it seems I still struggle with the idea. There's a reason she's there. There's a reason you're there. You're clearly there to be more than friends. It isn't natural to not kiss. So fucking kiss her! She will kiss back. There really isn't much to worry about. You just kiss her!

5. I used a lot of kino, and found again that it helped build a good relationship. From the beginning, I was getting her used to the idea that it was ok for me to touch her. Further, earlier on, she had complained explicitly about 'guys who are too afraid to touch me'. The mechanics of it aren't complicated: Girls like sex. Girls want sex. Girls understand that they must be touched during sex. Ergo, girls like to be touched.

And as I fell asleep last night, alone, damp chinned and unsexed, I had one final thought:

Internet dating really is shit. Don't bother in future. I don't plan to see Rasa again. As nice a girl as she is, I want to get out and just meet more girls until I find one I actually like.

Surely it can't be that hard...?

Interesting fun read man..Can relate to internet dating thing bit..(but not walking barefoot brave dude)..tends to usually results in 1nighter..do make abundantly clear beforehand..cause this don't find much awkwardness going in for kiss.

Hard to know of how truthful their photos is to reality is shit like. Ref to tesco wine funny..so far been extremely lucky with it..sure bound trip up somewhere resulting in me doing smooth yet speedy exit!

Aint reliant on it..take note what sayin..its no subsititute for going out.

Brilliant. I could just imagine it as well.....you delay kissing her for ages, and then you get that!

Agree with you re internet dating - people keep recommending it but just seems like a waste of time. Suppose it depends on what you're looking for I guess

Tonight, Perfecto and I headed out into Liverpool for an early evening of looking for girls to talk too. We didn't have long - I had a band practice until 9pm, and since Perfecto and myself have those 'job' things wot people have, we were limited in how long we were going to be going out for.

Nonetheless, we had time for a good 2 hours of action. And that was time enough for me to have my usual set of sweeping realisations.

We started in Bar CaVa - a tequila bar, hardly classy but good fun. Unable to see any sets we wanted to open (bear in mind, neither Perfecto or myself are yet advanced enough to be willing to open mixed sets. Unless its a pure female set, we're not going in!), we headed off up Bold Street towards the studenty end of town. The students are back now, and they're out in force!

I felt pretty good as we walked along. I've watched a bit of Tyler Durden's 'transformations' this week, and Tyler's words were still ringing in my ears. I also read the RSD article Personality. Get One. Chode posted on another thread here, about getting a personality. I was determined to try and apply some of the principles I'd read there, things like asking open questions, and pursuing conversation of a 'future and hypothetical' nature than 'past and literal'.

This resonated deeply with me. I'm fed up to fuck of talking to girls about 'what do you do' and all that shit. It bores me, never mind them!

But yeah, as we walked, I felt an extremely pleasant confidence softly glowing inside me. I even opened two girls along the way, albeit as warm ups: the first, a lone girl, asking her how full the bars were up Hardman Street. The second, as we were crossing Renshaw Street (sorry for name dropping all the roads - get a map if you want to know where this all happened), I spotted a gorgeous girl coming the other way. I smiled as broadly as I could without looking like a lunatic, and tried to say hello to her. But in the end it came out as a rather shy, croaky 'Hi...'

She defintiely wanted my cock after that...

We worked our way around a few different places. Scream wasn't happening, and Hannahs and Bumper were empty. Finally we reached Baa Bar. It wasn't packed, but it was quite busy, so we decided to stick around. We headed for the bar to order drinks, and in front of us was a two set of obviously young, but really incredibly pretty girls.

I went to open them... And then I froze. I couldn't think of anything to say. Fuck. I took a breath again... And again, nothing came out. Approach anxiety gripped my stomach and squeezed tight, and I just seized up. Thirty seconds later, and the two set had taken their drinks to a nearby table, and were sat chatting between themselves.

For my part, I was just angry. I'd been here before, I'd done this before, I'd learned there wasn't anything wrong with talking to girls. Yet, I couldn't get the stomach to talk to these two. In that moment, stood there uselessly, I absolutely hated myself.

Perfecto and I headed outside. I think he sensed I was getting wound up, which I was, and that I needed to just take a deep breath. Whilst outside, Perfecto spotted a seated three set. He turned and headed for them, opening effortlessly. I held back, letting him go in, and quietly giving myself a fucking stern talking too.

After a minute had passed, I went in to wing Perfecto. We have a sort of code we use, where whoever is coming in to wing will say to their buddy 'Hey man, I think Hannah is in Bumper' or something. If your buddy needs winging, he will say 'Cool man - come and meet these guys, they're fun', and you stay and help. If not, he says 'Cool, I'll be there in a minute'. This is code either for 'I'm not staying in this set long', or 'I'm cool and don't need winging'. But either way, it seems to get the job done.

On this occasion, Perfecto didn't need any help. So, I backed away, and wandered back inside the bar area. The two set were still sat down at their table, chatting merrily away. Finally, my patience snapped like a dry branch. I turned, and walked towards them. Closer. Closer. And then I was at the table side. One of them looked up as I sat down with them, and looking up, I calmly said, 'What the hell are you guys talking about?'

The girls looked at each other stunned, one of them obviously halted in mid-sentence. Three seconds of silence passed, before I added 'because I've had a look around, and you're definitely having the most interesting conversation in here. I can't not be part of it.'

One of the girls threw a shit test my way:

HB: Oh, we were just talking about this guy who looked like he was gonna come and interrupt us.

CO: Oh yeah? Where is he then?

HB: I dunno, but he had dark hair and was wearing a hoodie [describing me]

CO: [Looking around the bar blankly] Noooo I can't see him, are you sure he's still here?

Basically, I didn't let it phase me. I passed the shit test. But suddenly, there was another one. The same girl said:

HB: What's your name?

CO: Its Ada.... Er, I mean, its Dino.

HB: Dino?

CO: Yeah, that's right. As in Dino the dinosaur.

In my response, I had almost given her an honest answer, and had almost dutifully told her my name when prompted. Good doggy!

But as the word was falling out of my mouth, I remembered David DeAngelo saying 'never give a straight answer'. And so I managed to stop myself, and told her my name was Dino. This led to a bit of jousting as they tried to work out if that was my real name or not.

Perfecto had by now ejected from his three set, and so he came winging in. I held him in the set, and he sat down next to one of the girls. I isolated with the girl next to me in an instant, who's name was Georgie.

CO: Your name's what?

HB: Georgie.

CO: You're named after a river?

HB: What? A river?

CO: Yeah, your name is the same as a river.

HB: I'm not named after a river!

CO: Yeah you are, the river Georgia in America.

HB: No, no, not Georgia. Georgieeeee.

CO: Oh... Shit, you really need to stop going around telling people you're named after a river, its pretty misleading.

She loved it! Fuck this was easy. I couldn't work out by now if this was easy because I was in a good mood, or because I am developing skills again, or whether she was simply making it very easy by responding to me. The reality is probably somewhere between all three.

I applied the 'future and hypothetical' formula to the conversation, and we got onto the topic of travelling. We had a great conversation during which we planned to travel the world together. Not once did I have to ask her a fluff question. It was exciting, bouncy, enjoyable conversation, for me as well as for her.

And - and this is a big and - I stayed in set! Even when the conversation flagged, I found something to kick start it with. I pushed and pushed it onwards. I was staying here until she walked away. At one point the girls went to the toilet. I suggested to Perfecto that we make a move. But he said to stay in set - and he was dead right.

And this is where I had my big realisation for the night: If you only open one set, but then spend all night talking to them, then that's absolutely fine. Too often when I'm out meeting women, I'll open one set, and once I'm into it, I'll think 'right, job done', and look to come out so I can go and open another asap. But isn't that just daft??? Perfecto suggested we stick with this one - it was going well, and he was getting on well with the girl he was chatting too. So we did.

In all my time studying and practicing pick up, this was probably the longest set of them all. We chatted for about an hour, open, exciting chat about all sorts of weird and wonderful stuff. It was great.

But... I didn't close. And here's why. The girls got up to go to the bar for drinks. Perfecto and I stayed put and chatted between ourselves. But the girls didn't come back. They had got chatting to three lads at the bar, either because they'd been opened, or because they'd opened them. But either way, we sat there for five minutes waiting patiently for them to return.

Needless to say, my patience didn't last long. I wasn't going to sit there like a fucking puppy. So, we got up, and headed off. As we did, the girls (and the lads) had moved away from the bar. Perfecto said bye to his girl, and promptly number closed her. I wheeled around to Georgie, and told her I was going. She told me to go travelling to South Africa, and gave me a massive hug. This was the moment to go for her number, if I wanted it.

But I didn't. My reasoning was odd, perhaps: I didn't want to number close Georgie because Perfecto had just number closed her mate. Would it have been a bit weird if we both walked away with numbers? Now, as I type this, I'm kicking myself because I am realising I should have just given her my phone, and told her I wanted her number. I'm not shy about number closing. But something this time warned me off.

Maybe I could ask Perfecto to get Georgie's number from the girl he closed. But then again, maybe that's just needy. But then again again - who cares what they think???

We left after the longest set of my life. I felt utterly ambiguous about it all: On the one hand, I had opened naturally, stayed in set for an hour, I'd not used a shred of routine, and me and Georgie had got on like a house on fire. It was easy, effortless game, done the way its supposed to be done.

But the bookends of the set pissed me off. I had taken so long to open them. And I had failed to close. For fuck sake...

Questions

1. When the girls got up to go to the bar, and then got talking to those other guys, what was the correct course for us? I imagine just going and opening a new set would have been the way to go, show the girls we didn't need them. But it made things tricky.

2. Is my excuse about not wanting to close her because my wing had just closed her mate utter bollocks? Don't answer that actually, I already know...

Thoughts

Its a shame it took me so long to open, but I'll get over that. For the second week running, I've opened a seated set, which used to be a massive problem for me. That's pretty cool.

The conversation was also simply dazzling. I had a laugh, what can I say, although I have to admit that Georgie made it really pretty easy for me. She gave me plenty of opportunities. I kept kino up throughout (although as per usual, could have done more), I was lively and I had really good energy. Fuck, why didn't I close???

And the final thought: From now on, every set I open, I am aiming to stay in that set for as long as possible. I am no longer seeking to open for the sake of opening. I now want to open with a view to spending a long time talking to the girl or girls I have approached. This is something very new, and its something I really want to have a good crack with!

I'm not sure when my next outing will be. Tomorrow night my band is playing a gig, and I'll be too drunk to speak by midnight. I'm staying in for a quiet early night on Saturday ahead of a very early start.

I've managed to arrange it so I am sharing a room with a pretty 19 year old red headed girl, who I have a small history with, but not quite a complete history, if you see what I mean. She does have a boyfriend... But we can forget about him, right?

Until the next time - keep opening!