The Game

My biggest issue with my new love interest is that he insists on ‘just dating’ (rather than being in a relationship) even though we’re now going on three months.

I don’t take issue with much. I don’t sweat the small stuff. Snoring? I can deal with that. I wear earplugs.

I’m not the kind of woman that still believes that someday soon before I die some guy will come into my life that is perfect in every way including no snoring. Having flaws is part of being human. If it even were possibly to be that perfect, too perfect is ultimately unattractive since you can’t connect with someone you can’t relate to. How could you relate to an perfect person when you have your own baggage and regiment you follow for self-improvement?

So now that I’m entirely off topic, it’s not just that which makes me uncomfortable, hesitant, and slightly distant. The whole only seeing each other even though we spend a lot of time with each other and have become close is part of it. The other part is part of the why he insists on this.

Part of what makes up his self-improvement regiment is that he wants to learn to be good with women, and he’s got it in his head that he has to learn about women by dating a lot of women.

I didn’t know about this when we first started seeing each other, but he is part, or is learning to be a part of, a secret society of pickup artists. Really. I’m serious. Stop laughing. He goes to these meeting things every Tuesday night that I can only guess is where a bunch of guys sit in a circle and talk about how to figure out and get into womens’ panties and build their own self confidence to do so.

Life is so weird, I couldn’t make this stuff up.

He belongs to an online forum for them, they call them lairs (seriously, stop laughing). He has a bunch of books in his house on the subject of picking up women complete with workbooks and cheesiness. I raised my eyebrows at this the first time I was over his house and laughed:

“AD&D Players Handbook Third Edition… Oracle SQL Interactive Workbook… Visual Basic .Net Programmer’s Reference… The Art of Japanese Swordsmanship… Business Plans for Dummies… A Complete Hacker’s Handbook… Palmistry… How to Attract Anyone, Anytime, Anyplace…?”

…and there were worse sounding titles than that.

Until then, minus all of my art books, and a different flavor of programming books, the library reads similar to mine. I expect the nightstand to have porn, but all of the sex self help wasn’t as expected. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about self help. I’ve read interpretations of the Kama Sutra. I approve of that.

I picked up some and read chapters of some of the books he has, but I’ve been avoiding anything too sketchy looking. Anything with the implications that it’s one of those pick up artist (PUA) guides makes me a little leery.

It’s maybe like getting to know someone and getting real close and then finding out they belong to a cult. I’m trying not to judge, but anything that calls itself a secret society registers as cultish anyways. Anything that is dedicated to getting women in bed makes my feminist sensibilities hurt. The fact that I’ve gotten this close to someone who belongs to any kind of secret society makes me nervous. The fact I’ve gotten this close to someone who I guess is some kind of player in training is just… I don’t even know.

Like I’ve said, I’ve been meeting some of the friends. One of them I’ve been over his house a few times on my own to hang out, make cookies, and watch X-men. It occurred to me before I met him that it could be a fellow PUA. As I was meeting him, it didn’t take me long, I was sure. I didn’t see the tell-tale books about his house, but I did spy a magazine on his coffee table that told all. When I picked on him for it, he told me he read it for the cool gadgets they show every issue. I’m sure he also get’s porn for the articles too, right? I told him to stop acting ashamed about it- if you’re going to be something be it. I may not understand the scene at all, know much about it, or even approve once I get to know more, but if you’re choosing to be something, you better be okay enough with it to be able to say, “Yeah, so, and? Fuck you if you don’t approve.”

He asked me how much the boy had told me about PUA. I told him truthfully that I’ve been told nothing directly, but I did find his blog which talks a about it complete with thick jargon without a glossary.

What I didn’t go on about was that I’m smart, though. I read books. I surf the internet. I’ve read between the lines on things he’s talked about with self-improvement and groups things that have helped him. I even read between the lines when he tries something out on me. I know that some things are his own creation, and some things are from things he’s learned that he wants to try out (and some things a combination of the two).

Really, though, I don’t know enough about PUA and the more secretive people act, the closer I get to the boy, the more I want to know.

This friend of the boy’s was asking how much I was told as if he would then turn around and give the boy a talking to. It seemed like he disapproved that the boy leaves stuff around. Maybe he was just disgusted at the lack of style, or maybe he was worried he would reveal their secrets or something.

And yet, he was the one who gave me the idea where to start researching.

A book has come up a bunch, and the friend has it listed as his favorite book. I’m not going to read every book, system, and watch every DVD and video clip at the boy’s house. I’d rather read and study the SQL books, but I probably won’t do that either. Still, I want a better understanding of the thing that makes me uncomfortable about a person I am getting closer to as time goes on. He won’t talk about it, so this book seems like a good place to start.

Don’t get me wrong. Dating and meeting his friends and having him meet my friends and taking trips, it’s taking up a lot of my time. I don’t want to spend all of my time researching this and trying to understand him. I still need to focus on me and my goals. I know my blog has been hijacked by him in this indirect fashion lately, but it’s an outlet to keep it him from distracting me the rest of the time. If it doesn’t go into words on here or on paper, it stays in my head playing a bad game of Breakout. Boing, boing. Get the picture?

The title of the book is The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists. Okay, now you’re laughing again.

I just started reading it, and am doing so slowly and hesitantly. It’s like the time I tried reading the Bible (Old to New Testament). I didn’t get far. I did it with the idea that doing so would give me a better understanding and respect for people who chose to follow it. At some point while reading, it started to do the opposite. Then I realized most people who call themselves religious or followers of the Bible have read snippets at best, so reading it wasn’t going to help me understand them anyways.

I hope this doesn’t do the same, but if it does, then I at least will be able to have a rational issues with it. Right now it’s more that I’m wary of it because I don’t get it, and I shouldn’t be afraid of it for those reasons. I don’t understand why when things are going so well between us, when he has no time for much else, when he has other more important seeming goals that he feels like he needs to spend time seeing other women or study being a PUA. Who knows if he actually does even see other women. If he does I don’t know when he has time to. It’s not something I want to ask about because it’s not something I think I’d really want to know the specifics of.

Maybe it has something to do with building self confidence and stroking ego. Maybe it has to do with exploring masculinity and breaking away from societies conventions and definitions of what being man means, though one could argue PUA is just following yet another ‘supposed to’ for men. Right now, though, I don’t have much of a basis for my ideas, so I begin to read.

My first impression of the book left me both impressed and disgusted:

If you are reading this, I want you to know I wasn’t running game on you. I was being sincere. Really. You were different.

I laughed and threw up a little in my mouth.

But then he quotes The Feminine Mystique:

Men weren’t really the enemy- They were fellow victims suffering from an outmoded masculine mystique that made them feel unnecessarily inadequate when there were no bears to kill.

Food for thought, yes, I do believe sexism is not just an issue that women face. Men have their own stereotypes and issues to overcome that I will never fully know or understand having faced my own journey being a woman. I’m not sure what this has to do with the game exactly, yet, but the use of the quote does intrigue me. Is it a rationalization for behavior, or a statement that the Game is learning to breaking from it?

You might be wondering why I don’t discuss this with the boy, as communication is the way as I’ve said over and over on the blog. The answer is that it’s a secret society. I can’t even get him to say what really goes on Tuesday nights. The only reason I know he meets with a group was vague answers, and then once I’d assumed he was doing worse things, he clarified.

I have tried to push this with direct questions as well as jibes and joking and so far I haven’t been able to draw him into conversation on the subject, so I will continue my outside research.

Maybe you think I should leave this alone, but I’m not one for ignorance. If I’m going to be with someone who plays this game, I want to know what it is.

Things I Learned Yesterday


Sometimes I think in the style of Carl Franklin who does a bit on Mondays called “Things I have learned this week.” Some days I don’t need to make a thing up for any comedic reason, as life just sometimes manages to be way more unbelievable than anything I’d dare to make up.

These days are far more educational than I expected.

Since yesterday I have learned…

In the sovereign nation known as Rhode Island there are two acceptable spellings for the word train that have two distinct definitions. I learned this at the Amtrak station waiting for my train as I watched red, digital lettering scroll by…

“All trains are running on or near schedule…”

This, as a Massachusetts native spelling and meaning I am familiar with.

“…please do not enter or exit any moving trians.”

I watched this about twelve times wishing my camera wasn’t packed securely away as it was the sort of failblog submission that would make it to a post.

But I don’t want to be racist in saying that it’s a fail to have culture where trians is an acceptable spelling of train. In Rhode Island culture, when one refers to the act of jumping out of one, you spell it trian. It’s a cultural distinction, since in Rhode Island they have a jumping out of and entering moving trains issue that plagues their population.


I have learned…

The best way to advertise a maker of cell phones and other electronics in New York City is to wear large, black afros even if, especially if, one is a young Caucasian female. Add blue long coats to the ensemble and that just makes me want to buy their technology so much it hurts.

I thought this was weird until I looked online and learned that this is similar to an event last year where they dressed people in blue hair and white button down coats. This is a tried and true technique of advertising apparently, and I guess its working because I’m blogging about it. Now, what product were they advertising exactly?

I have learned…

Don’t stand so close to the grates in New York city or you will be forced to ask the question: “Oh, dear god, what is that SMELL!?” and prey that you never actually get an answer.

I have learned…


That some guy in Brooklyn was way too busy playing with Jills boobs to notice. I’ve heard some funny things walking by people while they’re talking, but this is the first time I’ve been so educated.

There are all kinds of information we learn from this statement:

1. Jill has some amazing super power boobs that can completely hypnotize men. The alternative to this is that this guy has an inability to do things like walk and chew gum, it’s a wonder he remembered to breathe with her boobs present.

2. Something worthwhile was to be noticed. It was worth while and amazing enough that this friend must have been “What!? OMG!! Didn’t you notice…?” even though he was obviously having a great time with Jill nearby. What this worthwhile event was, we can only imagine, but we know it was big, and that friend thought it was bigger than Jill’s boobs.

3. Jill probably didn’t let him play with his boobs. Let’s face it, if he’s the kind of guy to make a statement like that, this guy also may be the type to use hyperbole to make a point, or maybe even stretch the truth. While this is something I have not learned for certain, I greatly suspect that the truth may have been something like “Too busy mentally playing with her boobs from across the room when she wasn’t looking”.


I have learned…

The end of the universe is in New York City, specificly near Times Square in Manhattan. Not only is there a Starbucks across from a Starbucks, there are many Starbucks across from Starbucks. I bet if you mapped the Starbucks, they would make a significant shape of some kind that would tell us more about the order and nature of the universe we live in.

So I googled it. Here is what I learned: In Times Square, there’s one Starbucks for every .04 square miles. There are SIXTY-TWO Starbucks in the Times Square area… I’m talking easy walking distance from each other. They don’t want you to discover the mystery of the pattern so they only will put up to nine on the map at one time.

They’re tricky like that.

And that is what I learned yesterday.