The Game: Part Deux

This post is a follow up to some research I’m doing on PUA and a book I’m reading on it called The Game. Click on the category link above to see other posts on this.

Here’s the meet and greet for the characters. By the first few pages, you identify with and feel bad for each and every one except the big guy who was going to commit suicide. He’s now the mentor that has taken pity on these poor souls and will lead them to salvation. Surely this is a noble quest to get laid as these guys have no chance of getting some of having a happy life or confident persona. This book so far has been mixing the concepts of going out a getting laid with self confidence and image. I feel like it’s trying to project that to have both, you need both. You’re not a confident, happy person unless you’re getting laid by women. You’re not getting laid by women unless you’re happy and confident.

Let’s face it, neither of those is true. I’ve had boyfriends to prove it, negative, unhappy emo-kids get laid too. There’s a certain kind of attraction reserved for the damaged victims and I’m one that’s fallen for it quite a bit. They also don’t seem to find happiness by getting sex either. People need more than that for fullment.

And I think that happiness can be had without lots of sex with lots of people. I know it sounds shocking. I know this might sounds like a chicken and the egg thing too, but I actually think now to find good connection and sex you have to be a happy and whole person FIRST. Using sex to become happy and confident seems really, really weird to me. I see this as the cart going before the horse. The source of your confidence being your ability to pick up women is maybe as good as any, but I prefer to have a wider and deeper source of why I’m awesome. I have a lot going for me. Sure, I have confidence in my looks and my social interactions, but I don’t let that alone define my source of self worth.

I feel like the more I try to understand, the harder it is to get these shoes on. My feet just don’t fit. I’m still trying to walk this mile.

So the chapter continues and the big guy, Mystery he calls himself (no, not a member of the Xmen or some other comic), starts to get into what they’re going to do over the next days. They’re going to play a game. Well, sure, it’s the title of the book. At first, I think of the Leisure Suit Larry series and laugh a little. Mystery tells his pupils that the game is surprisingly linear. Ah, I say, like an old-school RPG. Then I get to the first line that makes me think that reading this book is as misguided as the Bible reading experiment.

Captain Mystery is talking about how to get the girl you want and essentially says ignore her and become chums with everyone around her. That reverse psychology makes sense. Then he puts on the brass knuckles:

…the pickup artist must intrigue her while pretending to be unaffected by her charm. This is accomplished through use of what is called a neg. Neither a compliment or an insult- a neg is something in between- an accidental insult or a backhanded compliment. The purpose of a neg is to lower a woman’s self esteem…

Did you say what? Did you… oh no you…

Hey all you guys out there, go out and attract women by lowering their self esteem! It’s a well known fact that women fall for assholes time and time again. As their personas get stripped down and they fall helplessly in your laps, you will have the game to thank.

I may just rename this book to How To Be That Asshole I Dated That One Time. Okay, maybe it wasn’t just one time.

My mind races to the questions of, “Has this been used on my by the boy.” The answer: no. Thank ye gods, no. Why? It’ wouldn’t work. As it is, any of his attempts of improving me or any ‘negs’ dropped that I can think have been met with me laughing and throwing it back at him.

Last night, he was trying to get me to stand up straighter. This is a new one. The other day when he did it, I told him the story of a woman I used to work with who said the same thing and qualified it with, “You have nice boobs, sit up strait and let the world see them!”. I teased him, telling him he just wanted to see my boobs better. We joke a lot.

It came up again. I told him another anecdote about how a friend of mine who has immaculate posture actually went out with a guy who told her to stop sitting up so strait and goddamn relax sometimes. It’s a true story.

The moral is if I want to work on my posture, I will for me and my reasons.

The examples Mystery gives are offering a piece of gum after a woman speaks for the first time (implying they have bad breath).

I would do one of two things:

1. I’d say no to the weird guy I just met offering me gum. Maybe there’s a roofie in it. I don’t take candy from strangers. The last time I accepted gum from a coworker it had as much caffeine in it as an energy drink.

2. It’s completely lost on me as a neg. I don’t do certain kinds of social subtlety very well, probably because I don’t give a flying pig crap. So, I take the gum, say thanks, and go about my night.

The other example Mystery gives is saying the woman has lipstick on her teeth…

I don’t wear makeup. I am reminded that these women they’re picking up are not the same kinds of women as me. If it was one of the rare occasions I was wearing makeup, I’d probably say, “Oh, hey, thanks. I don’t wear this crap often, so I have no idea if there’s like a trick to have it not do that. Did you know that a lot of lipsticks supposedly have lead in it? Yeah, and I just ate some. Awesome. Imagine people who wear this stuff all the time- I wonder if people actually get lead poisoning- probably brain damage at least. What do you think?”

No, really, that’s the kind of thing I’d say. I’m a weirdo, remember? And I don’t give a flying wicked witch monkey poo, remember?

I think I’m done reading this book. It’s time to go talk to the boy and try to find my answers that way.

Update: Did last night… but no time to talk about it now. Those thoughts may eventually make there way here.