Five years before I read The Game, I met a natural. Befriended him, in fact, during Freshmen Orientation. Despite being an awkward, lanky kid, I had a bit of shine to me. You see, I grew up in Atlanta, and picked up the gangstah style of the South in my early days. Baggy jeans half-way down my ass, shirts 4 sizes too big, and a mean scowl that belied my timid nature.
Nobody at my top-tier state school dressed like me. I’m pretty sure it was that shine that brought me into this player’s circle. In retrospect, I could have played up that gangstah style for a select type of girl. With further retrospection, there were at least two lays I left on the table in my freshmen year.
Back to B, the natural. He was a very sociable, outgoing guy but also a narcissistic ass. He was unreliable, expected everyone around him to tailor to his needs, and hogged all the attention. B couldn’t stand being alone, an extrovert by nature. He lived for two things: hangin’ wid da bois, and bangin’ hotties. When I wasn’t in class or studying, I was at his dorm. It was always his dorm. The man understood power and home-field advantage.
And he had charisma. He was funny, had a cocky attitude, held a positive disposition in company, and could drive a conversation from scratch. He brought good vibes to people, and even more impressive, he brought people into his frame. This goes for men and women. B could relate positively to all walks of life. But he was quick to ramp up the flirting with girls.
At some orientation event held in the cafeteria, B took me along with him to a table of 3 girls. I can’t remember what he said to them, but he carried the open and vibe. I introduced myself then went silent and observed. Here’s a bit of what i remember:
B: something something something. Anyway, what’s your names?
Girl: Shabonny
B: What?
Girl: Shabonny!
B: Sha-bone-me?
Shabonny: [Awkward laugh]
B stacked a bit more on that awkward laugh but the conversation never turned around. Shortly after, he left and I followed. I remember being super embarrassed at the time. Making a sex joke! With girls! This man is nuts. We’re supposed to respect them for brains and accomplishments, not their bodies. He didn’t even ask for a number or anything. What was the point of even talking to them? Though this particular “set” didn’t hit, he was getting plenty of action with other girls over the few weeks we hung out. In fact, the girls that were taking in his flirting were also hotter. The cognitive dissonance was maddening. Gentleman of game understand what he was doing: he was testing early for compliance and moving on when he didn’t get it.
He understood that rejection is a natural part of the game. It’s a mandatory part of the game. And he took it like a champ. To me, though, it never looked like rejection. He opened indirectly, then amped up the flirting. Having such a cheerful disposition, girls almost always smiled when he approached. There were very few times I saw him take a “blowout” but he was so cool about it that I only saw him getting success after success. Now this was years before The Game was published, so he was doing all these things without the training wheels of the Mystery Method or our beloved London Daygame Model. So as I think back about his “daygame” approaches, I’m even more astounded by the techniques this natural employed. His approach, when walking past a cute girl, was simply to run back and yell
“Hey! Jessica! Jessica! Hey, oh wait you’re not Jessica. You look just like her!”
I don’t remember how he transitioned out of that, but his close was something along the lines of “I’m going to a party later this week, you should come”. He was incredibly good in groups. The party atmosphere worked even better for his personality.
After seeing he was only getting hotties, I ultimately concluded that his schtick only works on broken girls and sluts. Who knew if they were sluts; they were just so hot that they were out of my league…hence they were sluts in my book. Cognitive dissonance, gentleman, is a hell of a phenomenon. Even though I would have happily fucked broken sluts, I didn’t know how to become like him, or become like him without changing who I was. I hadn’t yet accepted that I needed to really transform myself into a different person, a better person if I wanted to get laid. I believed I was born as a certain type of man, and that my stock in life is fixed at birth.
Anyway, we fell out of touch after a month or so. I was too awkward and shy to be a part of his lifestyle. Plus, I was busy with homework. He was put on academic probation after the first quarter, and dropped out after the second. I don’t know what’s happened to him since. He certainly had the social and leadership skills to succeed in the corporate world.
One would expect he had a strong, charismatic father in his life to teach him these intangibles. On the contrary, this young man had a step father with whom he had a poor relationship. B talked about his mom all the time, but not so much his father. The few times he did mention him, it was either related to logistics or disagreements. His biological father had spent time in jail.
I haven’t met another natural since.