Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Thanks and Praise (Part 2)

"GoneSavage, you're one of the few people I've met who's worthy of all the respect and admiration he receives. You have an incredible story... not just ‘stories’ like everyone has, but an evolving and heroic narrative on a large scale. The influence on people's lives you've had is pretty amazing. I really hope you continue to explore and take drastic leaps like you did doing this tour.” --Alfalpha

“This is about having the power of choice. If a woman knows you could be with any woman in the room and you choose her, which is incredibly powerful. She will respect and adore you more for choosing her. In my reality these days, GS, your style is like NAS: half man, half amazing... What are you anyway, man?” –Droots22

“Thinking about it now, your road trip reminds me of the classic 'coming of age' story. You know the one: The young hero starts of under trying circumstances. He makes a difficult and courageous decision which starts him on a path to manhood. Because he has no way of turning back, he is forced to experience many things and in the process is transformed. Perhaps this is a lesson to us all? --Nostromo

“GS, you're fucking smooth. Well done. It sounds as though you do an excellent job of incorporating compliments and increasing her self-perceived value just through your presence. It can be a difficult balance, but I'd say from your post that you've mastered it.
This example is a pure win-win…” --Q20

“GoneSavage your posts are like no one else's on here…. Full of respect for women, and lots of romantic value in your rapport… it works amazing for you and conveys your game view towards life very clearly. It reminds me that I have the most fun and the most success when I am in similar mindset.” --Blondie

“If anyone is wondering why GS is so successful, here's my crack at it: He is 100% sure of what he wants to give and take from women. His game is completely congruent with who he is. As much as I want to repeat what he says in these posts word-for-word to women, I know that I would be much more successful finding my own inspiration and relating it to my own game. Your posts are a reminder of what REAL game is. Your writing is dynamic and full of important details. Reading your stuff really boosts my state and makes me want to get out there and sweep women off their feet!” --Icedub

“Your reports show me why it's so necessary to stress openness and honesty with women….You define the interaction, and make it turn out the way *you* want by expressing your values and showing them what's important to you. They then know how to gain your love. And in return, they get to be a part of your beautiful life. Damn, thanks for the reports man.” --Luff

“What I really appreciate is your clear-mindedness. You show that in the detail you go into in your reports and the way your interactions with these chicks are structured. Also, you're obviously very confident and self-assured….I look forward to reading more of your stuff. I've been very influenced by it and am very appreciative that you put the time in to enrich this community with your experiences and observations.” --JohnnyF

“GoneSavage… is charismatic and can express his love for life in a captivating manner. Someone who is confident, loves life and himself, will be able to seduce many, many women.” --asd77840

“Hey man, good to meet up with you - you are an incredibly chill guy in person. Better late than never on the props, but hey what can I say? Would have liked to find time hang out outside the seminar, maybe someday for sure.” --Formhandle

“I am finding a treasure trove of great techniques and insight that nicely complement what I had observed of your game hanging out with you. I particularly like how you smoothly transition into demonstrations and from there physical escalation. What made those bold SOIs even more powerful is your sincere intensity, your genuine desire to truly bring out and savor the woman she is. That, my man, got to be the # 1 vaginal lubricator of all times.” --PapiChulo

“This is the lifestyle I would love to be living… at least those of us who can't cut free from the restraints of ordinary life and become traveling adventurers can live vicariously through GoneSavage.” -- n3rv1

“I'm one of the people that have thoroughly enjoyed your reports… thank you for your tremendous work. Your general approach to life/women/the-world, as captured in the episodes of your PUA odyssey is fantastic, and has helped me begin the long process of—in a certain respect—learning to reframe the world in a more positive light.”

“It was cool meeting you in Montreal even though it was brief…hope you keep posting man.” --TokyoPUA

“I think that through this trip, and maybe also the seminar, you basically realized that women want to be fucked, and you have to convey to them that you are the one who will fuck them well, and while C&F, playing hard to get, logistics and all the rest of it is important, you basically need to use body language, eye contact, and words to convey that you want to take her on an adventure, that you will be in control of that adventure, and that she better not miss out on it.” --KitKatMan

“You MUST have your body language and voice tone completely down to, as you say, to deliver such strong and bold SOIs. This is the best field report on direct game I have ever read. Probably the only one I will ever need to read. GoneSavage, you are a fucking playa with heart!” --Live Wire

“I want to say thanks for helping me destroy a very negative attitude that was sucking all the fun out of my life. I happened upon your post…and it blew me away. I don't know why I let my current situation almost bury me in negativity…but your FR's helped me break out of that totally ugly and poisonous mind frame.” --Liontamer

“I've been reading all your adventures and I must say I am jealous - not just of your experiences but of your determination that allows you to undertake such a trip.” --Etan

“I just wanted to drop you a line and say, Respect, man, I love what you're doing. You come from a good place and I love your style of game, mate….I like your style - Very cool, no bullshit. You seem to have an interesting life where you learn and socialize, and then you just communicate that and fuck girls…” --Dimitri

“I found your reports amazing. It’s a stark contrast to almost everything I see….Not of the hatred, or insecurity, or even the cheapness that pollutes most people’s interactions. You are a complete romanticist, yet strong…. I truly envy your approach to life. You will be happy most of your life because of your ability to see art in things.” --Teraplane

“Excellent work; an inspiration. I especially like your use of language, I find it powerfully concise and really great word choice, seriously. I'm putting odds on you making this into a lifestyle” --Tarzan

“Good work. I hope your PUA Roadtrip continues to be successful, and you find some new amazing women to share your time with at your next stop.” –Slurride

Thanks and Praise (Part 1)

“Your description of persistence… is like the PERFECT example of the kind of persistence (and frame control) that works versus the kind that is too aggressive or needy. Thank you for sharing this in such a thoroughly descriptive way, much respect goes your way.” --Formhandle

“GoneSavage, some of the stuff I'm getting from your field reports is massively helping my game…. You effectively draw the girl into feeling this strong connection between the two of you.” --FrankM

“I love your style of game. It gives you even more satisfaction that you had an emotional connection.” --Mirx

“Your life is like a soap opera… can’t wait till next episode” --El Magico

“When GoneSavage approaches a girl, he truly wants to meet that girl because he genuinely admires her…. When he tells a girl that she had a really great vibe about her, and he had to come meet her, it’s a 100% honest statement. Approaching girls, complementing them, and conversing with them, in a totally honest, genuine, and sincere way is… powerful.” --EffigyC

“FUCKING Awesome! My eyes light up every time I see a post by GoneSavage… I can't believe you pull this shit off so well! You are FUCKING awesome! And a great inspiration to me!” --ChicksRock

“SIMPLY UNBELIEVABLE. You fucking rock man…. You are the ultimate PUA. I mean being homeless…and sex don’t mix...in my socially condition brain...fuck, that is mind blowing!” --OX

“You have MADLY improved in such little time! GS you are inspirational.” --Cantactus

"GoneSavage, you epitomize the goals, passions, and style that pick-up is all about. Kudos.” --PhoenixPUA

“Wow! Another great post... I really love reading your posts.,,, Any plans to come to Australia? Looking forward to the next installment of your adventure...” --Slackass

“You’re like a poet-PUA. Insane style, gotta love it!” –Clint E

“One thing I've noticed is that you have a very natural and free-flowing way of communicating. A lot of guys can learn a lot by modeling your views on life, and see what an artform this is…” --Spitfire

You have DISCIPLINE and INTENT up the fuckin ass! …. Combine that with a STRONG DESIRE TO GET LAID and you are putting shit up on the scoreboard like BOOM BOOM BOOM. That's the true lesson of GS's posts. Bravo. Brav-fucking-o. --Jlaix

“GoneSavage is…absolutely and utterly unspectacular…. No square jaw, piercing eyes, nothing. Not bad looking, or good looking. Just 'regular'….He was polite, obviously intelligent, and spoke about his experiences in exactly the same manner as he writes here. A very cool guy, it was a real pleasure meeting and talking with him…” --Hyugen

“You are unique in your delivery. You seem to play the role of a Romeo that most women dream of; this is because of your Romantic style that women seem to eat up. It’s almost a method of its own. Congrats, your work is great. Thank you for the insight.” --Jago

“I have to tell you, after reading your post, you have become one of my idols. You are Fucking Amazing… Smoooooth as hell… and a great story teller… I hope you keep posting your LRs.” –Jaydilla

“GoneSavage, what you're doing is ... just good. It's good for everyone. Please keep posting. I would love to see a methodology or any guided advice written from you. Some ideas for people who're just starting with all this.” –TheFox

“The kind of romantic talk GS describes … is not something I have seen from any poster from any style or school….I think his reports offers something genuinely new and should not be dismissed as ordinary…” --Chaco

“I am completely blown away. It sounds like your game has improved leaps and bounds; it is so congruent and natural to who you are.” --HollywoodMack

“Honestly man, your rapport game is incredible. And I can tell from your post that you are sincere and genuine. I used to share your passion and enthusiasm for pickup as an artform. More recently I’ve had the ‘wham, bam thank you m'am’ mentality where its more about hooking up than enjoying the entire process. I'd like to backtrack and regain some of my old self where I sought genuine connections and built sincere rapport, regardless of the final outcomes.” --Lowrider

“You are undeniably smooth with your day-game…. You also opened my eyes to direct PU, which I now practice as much as possible. Keep posting your reports- they are educational, entertaining and down right interesting to read. Have a safe trip.” --Aphrodisiac

“Your super cool kick ass high energy and attitude got you (another) lay! Absolutely LOVE reading your reports, they are inspirational!” –A-Star

“Nice work man. No canned routines, just being your natural player self. Quite influential.” --Defixon

“You're a true ladies' man. The hyper-romantic stuff is classic seduction and you deliver it with truly smooth style. Very enviable. Too many of us are cavemanishly aggressive and would have to do a total psychosexual/emotional/relational reboot to say some of the things you say without laughing -- 'cause we wouldn't really mean them. You DO, however, and you reap the rewards of being so calmly and sincerely interested in romancing your women and making them feel special and appreciated simply for who they are.” --Linguinator

“Thanks for posting. I have read most of your posts and find them to be amazing. All I can respond with is 'fucking inspirational.' Please keep them coming as I learn a lot every time. --Ihponsin

“I thought I'd just say that by implementing and calibrating your rapport techniques to suit my personality, I have been able to, not only better my game, but start getting better results for potential LTRs.” --Ralex

“You seem like a cool dude. Not just good at PU, but a guy I feel I'd really like to emulate….What I admire about you is that you have soul.” --Thrillseeker

“Good to meet with you in Montreal. I had been totally out of the game for months and hadn't been reading ASF. If I had read about your travels and success, I would have listened more and talked less. I've been reading your LRs and they're great - I love your style.” --Herbal

“Hey GS, I've been reading about your pick-up adventure…. Every now and again someone enters the community who just gets it, the way seduction should be. You seem to be one of those who understand what a natural artform this thing is.” --Vincent

“You are like a bird, flying with no boundaries, with no fear and soar with freedom, where most are caged birds watching you and wishing that they themselves can be like you, to fly and embrace the world, fearlessly. I feel that although people have given ideas of PU, like the body parts of PU, but none of them have given PU an overall soul…” --Felix

“Just wanted to tell you I’ve been following your reports for a month or so now and find them truly inspirational. I'm struck by your sincerity, directness and gentle persistence throughout the reports. You are a true pick-up ARTIST!” --Whirlwind

Montreal: Answering Community Feedback


AtoZ: So far we've got ballsiness (rolling up and sitting down unphased next to 4 girls at a table); playful, fun and engaging convo with setting up a dominant frame of being the master populator and girls filling job positions for you; working the table in best traditions of group theory (ignoring the target first); qualifying the target; good parting SOI; follow-up persistence (calling twice) and working the circumstances spontaneously to your favor (gaming the roommate on the second call)…

GoneSavage: I need to have you around to decipher my stories and really point out what is translatable into pick-up terms! I think I’m getting better at it (and including more) but it is still a bit of a challenge to be an active observer of my own social interactions. Good to have people like you that see my mental workings. Much appreciated.

AtoZ: Then it was upping the tension by flaking twice (although this wasn't exactly planned, eh)?

GoneSavage: I was aware that I upped the tension, especially after attracting the second girl, but it could have backfired. And although I was *aware* that I was flaking, it was not intentional—though you may suspect—once you see how I turned it around. Tension and intrigue was HIGH and thankfully this didn’t backfire—real risk especially with two flakes.

AtoZ: Also I'm curious - did the girls resist the 'got my own province to populate and you will work for me' frame or did they just jump into it? In a situation like this I could see a few playful shit tests potentially popping up here and there during the job assigning part. Were the roles and the following demands made of them just plain accepted as part of the laughs and built on, or did you get some flak, even if subtle, from the friends/target at that point? Like someone saying "and what is it that YOU do" kind of thing? Of course that would be begging for a very obvious answer...

GoneSavage: I think I hinted toward the ‘master populator’ scenario in the beginning and let it subtly fade to a hear-and-now scenario. (Think about how a ‘tour guide’ wouldn’t make sense in the former.) So it becomes more about me being there in a new city all unfamiliar with everything and how I playfully expect these roles to be filled so we all can have a good time and cooperative fun. Playful, fun, open, generally HSE girls will jump into these frames. Otherwise, it is a screening mechanism for me. If one girl isn’t directly into my scenario, but the other three are *for her*, then its still a good time. I like to think it is all for laughs and living in the moment. What can I do? …naturally I adore them and cherish them and show them things that make them feel absolutely wonderful…

AtoZ: By the way for anyone doubting - having witnessed some of the later parts of the interaction between these two, I can attest to the fact that this girl was COMPLETELY in love with GS. You guys have no idea.

GoneSavage: Was and IS… It’s funny that I didn’t meet AtoZ until I was about to leave Montreal. We’re set to meet at TamTams and he finds me with this girl on my lap. I tell her she can sit there as long as my touches don’t distract her and she’s still looking for the guy with the yellow shirt. Then AtoZ and I both run into yesterlays. We both leave with girls. Good times. (I also got a $92 ticket the one day I parked in front of his house…haha)

Bedhead: I find that email rather hard to believe - that a nineteen-year-old would write in such an articulate fashion. A very rare exception, perhaps. But she is not the only one whom you have quoted as writing in such intense, almost literary style. It seems that the girls I encounter are almost a different species. Is it only in Montreal that young women seem like they have stepped from a European arthouse movie?

GoneSavage: Touch a woman like she has never been touched. Affect her on a level than no man has ever accessed. Show a woman her soul. You’d be surprised how they respond and what they attempt to articulate.

I like including these emails because they validate my artistry and my skills as a communicator. And they should allow you, as a reader, to notice the subtlest nuances (as well as the similarities) to fine-tune your own communication. I think when you are able to notice such shades of distinction it will enhance your own artistry. (Compare the way HBcafe writes to the way HBfashiondesign writes. Or look at the emails in that post from the girls I lost.)

It’s another instance of calibration—important here because I read too much into HBfashiondesign’s emails that led to the 3some misunderstanding…

And it’s not just in Montreal. You should see the emails that the very first woman I bedded on this tour still sends me. I like the Montreal emails because it became a *necessary* communication tool there. Most of the ones I have published were indeed girls that I lost. So sad. I also like that it forces them to articulate things in English that they normally would express in French.

Value words. Become a masterful communicator. Make the world your European arthouse movie. Fuck shit up. GoneSavage

RikerAUT: Why does it seem like all the really good pick-ups involve conscious manipulation of the girl by using patterns, lines, etc. to tool her? I can't do these - I find it very unnatural and feel like shit sitting there telling her some elaborate "pattern on the fly." I think it is sneaky to use artificially constructed language that relies on proven psychological concepts just to bed a girl.

GoneSavage: I thrive on being positive, open, passionate, adventurous, joyful, spontaneous and expressive. Underneath there is a bedrock of confidence, a strong sense of self-worth, being a visionary and being in-control. Of course I enjoy brilliant communication, verbal fluency and rich imagery. I value sound over sight and I’m getting better at realizing the importance of timing and rhythm. I mix all this together and try to put an original perspective on things, challenge convention, and reframe bad programming. Keep the interaction moving forward in a fun way and that’s about it.

Then I put myself out here for whatever it is worth to anyone. Do I need this community? Does this community need me? Dunno. Final thoughts:

1) I was congruent to “being just friends” with this girl until I was clearly pursued. Thought I was clear about this.

2) Among other things, she learned what it was like to make conscious sexual choices and pursue someone that captured her attention. She also learned what very attentive, expressive, and emotional sex was like.

3) Anyone that thinks my approach is ‘sneaky’ or using ‘artificially constructed language’ that relies on certain proven psychological concepts’ is clearly taking my posts way too seriously. There is not that much to be read into them, at least not in that way. Some people really do think too much and interact face-to-face with real people too little. If you are going to think about it, I invite you to at least think in a new direction.

Jlaix: I think a lot of people will read your LRs and go out spitting romantic love poems of delight with a unicorn and all this shit, and will be miscalibrated with it and seem weird.

GoneSavage: It’s funny that I don’t think my game is poetic at all. I deal with powerful themes….directly, with intent, expressivity, self-confidence and self-control. But my game is really not that rich with poetic or vivid imagery, allusions, or metaphors (just a couple). Mostly themes. It’s a bit romantic, yes, because this is a powerful theme. I like it this way and apparently a good number of girls do too.

Jlaix: But guys need to realize that you can take a little bit >from everyone, and not have to EMULATE or IMITATE them to get results... in fact, it can be counterproductive to do so, because you're not being true to yourself.

GoneSavage: Yes. But hopefully they are actually in field trying new things (just as you did) and discovering what is congruent with them. There is a ‘game’ that is uniquely and wonderfully your own and you’ll never find it sitting in front of a computer. Props to anyone out here digging for their diamond. You have to sift through a lot of worthless dirt to find a single nugget of radiant truth. But in the end, its worth it.

Jlaix: The REAL reason for your success is obvious to me... you have DISCIPLINE and INTENT up the fuckin ass!

GoneSavage: Yes. I have a lot of intent and discipline and maybe just a little conviction, audacity, and originality. Probably a little charm, positivity, playfulness, and passion. Don’t know how far that takes me. “Try not to become a man of success, but rather a man of character.” –Einstein.

Jlaix: Every day, he's working several girls at once, and staying on top of his shit like it's a full-time job (which I presume it is, as you are on some sort of PUA-Tour...?). Combine that with a STRONG DESIRE TO GET LAID and you are putting shit up on the scoreboard like BOOM BOOM BOOM. That's the true lesson of GS's posts. Bravo. Brav-fucking-o.

GoneSavage: Thanks. The only fool greater than the fool who expects big results from small changes is the fool who believes that big changes can be accomplished without risk. Opportunity vs security. Guys that I have not met in person are unaware of the changes I have made and the risks that I take. Montreal was an exercise in faux-security and I was deep in-field 30 days straight. Who really takes that risk? Love life. GoneSavage

Montreal: Planetarium Pounding with HBfashiondesign


Back in the USA now. I was in Montreal for one month, having left on the 11th of August. As a measure of how incredible I found the city, consider that the most time I had spent on the PUA-Tour in any other city was one week. But of course, I had a travel deadline in Montreal, so I had to keep moving toward that destination. It’s also interesting to note that I never closed in Montreal until the tenth day (LRx3). Then things kind of exploded for me. I hope to get all the stories recorded soon, as they are all exceptional and exciting.

Oh yeah… One more thing that I became aware of in Montreal (especially from hanging with Papi Chulo, KitKatMan, Tarzan, AtoZ, and Hyunghu) is that I have become quite effective at conveying what it is that I do. Right now, I’m pretty good at explaining and teaching my mindsets, beliefs, and techniques. It’s good fun.

So for my last day, I treated myself to the pleasure of two women (though not at the same time): HBfashiondesign and HBdaycare. The rendezvous with HBfashiondesign was one of the most thrilling and exhilarating encounters on my sexual resume. Damn hot.

Wednesday she took me out for lunch and then suggested we go to the Planetarium. She bought our tickets and on the way in she says, “I intend to be touched.” Just like that. Of course, I had been fingering her earlier at the park, and I knew she was still worked up. We’re in the theater with like ten field trip groups—hundreds of little kids filling the place. There’s a small section of other visitors. But by no means are we secluded. We’ve got about four seats to our left and to our right that are empty. Couples are at both ends of our isle. No one is directly in front of us. No one is directly behind us, but the isle is occupied two seats down diagonally.

The show starts and it is not long until ours does too. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that she’s wearing a skirt. I’m touching her and she’s got her knees on the seats in front of us. She’s squirming madly. I maintain my composure and let her lose control. She says, “This is too much, you have to stop teasing me. I want you in me so bad.” Hmmm…

I keep her arousal high and she’s got my cock out and is stroking it hard. She says, “This is too much. I just want to climb on top of you. Is there any way to do this?” I tell her that I don’t think so. She looks disappointed. But I’m thinking. Bathroom? Now? Too obvious. Too much of a disturbance. Maybe after the show? It will be swarmed with kids. We’re still working each other heavily. “I want you now. I don’t care who sees us.”

In a slight commotion, I get her to position her right leg behind me on my seat. We have an unmoving arm-rest to deal with. I pull her left leg on top of me and against my chest. Her knee is basically at my chin. She’s got her arms around me and we’re facing each other, but we have just enough mobility to face foreword when necessary. After putting a condom on, I pull her panties to the side and I slide in. Really fucking exciting.

Don’t know the last time you’ve been to a Planetarium, but it’s a lot more risky than a typical theater. First of all, it’s not always completely dark; images are projected illuminating the room for brief periods. Second, the ceiling-screen is a curved dome, so the entire audience could be looking right over your head if the narrator draws attention to that area. And here we are fucking under the stars. And I keep up this erotic embrace for the entire show. Hitting it hard with lots of movement during the darkest moments. Playing it slow and sensual when the room is more lit. Was anyone aware? Probably. I know people were giving us looks when we walked out. I think we both avoided eye-contact with folks until we got outside where we shared a good laugh and held each other tight.

Anyway, that was our second and (unfortunately) our last fuck. Pretty intense way to go.

PS….just as an indicator of how she is hooked, here is the email she sent after the planetarium escapade:

”I can't seem to realize you are really gone, it's weird. The bar was closed yesterday so we changed our plans...I was so looking for you everywhere in the city in case you were walking around...I hoped I'd see you. Well, now I know where you are, well, not exactly but...anyway, it's a bad morning, I was 1 hour late to my job. I missed you so much but now I know you were gone, I'm kind of sad I must say...please, if you can, try to call me tonight, I wanna say real goodbyes. I finish working at 12pm, so if you have time in the afternoon, please ask a guy for a cell phone...or something like that. I miss you. It's not fair you left...”

Love life, GoneSavage

Montreal: LR: Flipping the Sexual Script (Part 3)

Part 3 (posted: 8/17/05)

The next day HBfashiondesign sends an email. It’s rather neutral, but, hey, she sent it the very next day. And she’s making an effort at sustaining our friendship:

”I hope everything is going well for you...I'm actually at my mother's house and I was so tired from my day of work that I ended up sleeping till 4 pm this afternoon. I fell asleep outside on my terrace under the sun...and I just woke right now in my messy room. I don't work tomorrow so if you have something in mind, just call me. I would love to go kayaking near Tremblant on the lake...but I need to find the number...well we’ll see! Anyway, call me, alright?”

I call her and she tells me about a couple nice things: When she went to work, everyone noticed her smiling and her positive energy. Her roommates and friends commented that she seemed particularly happy and joyful. And her parents noted that, for whatever reason, she really seemed to exhibit an exuberant joie de vivre. How nice. We talked about getting together, but she was swamped with work and family commitments or whatever. Okay, no problem. We’re friends, and I think pursing a get-together at this point would broadcast a more-than-friends expectation.

I didn’t hear from her for six days. I don’t think I called her at all. If I did call, then I didn’t catch her and I know I didn’t leave a message. Didn’t send her any emails. Anyway, this was the week that I hit my remarkable sexual streak. Things truly exploded for me (as I am still documenting). I get an email on Sunday, July 31st:

”I keep wondering where you are because I didn't get any message from you or anything. I hope you're doing pretty fine....discovering the wonderful city of ours. The thing is: I'm an expert on every beautiful aspect and detail of Montreal, so you might consider giving me a call tomorrow during the day because I would love to see you for dinner or at night I suppose. Please leave me a message telling me when you are going to call me so I can make sure to be there when you do. Otherwise, you'll miss a beautiful night with me, with everything that comes with it. I don't work Tuesday and I’m going to be in Montreal for sure. I have to catch some sleep now (even though I'm supposed to go out again...) so that's it for me for tonight. Sleep tight, and you know what? I did go kayaking yesterday....it was surreal!”

I’m playing this LJBF thing cool, but fuck me if that “everything that comes with it” statement doesn’t look like an SOI. Okay, she’s Quebecoise, so I’m sure something’s lost in translation. Not going to read into things. So I call her Monday night and we make plans to meet in the Old Port on Tuesday.


I almost missed her again. I picked a statue that I thought was the most obvious central landmark in the area. Of course, she’s at a different statue of which I had no knowledge. I wait like thirty minutes, call it a loss, and wander off to do my thing. Apparently she did the same. We run into each other in an area several bocks away, sort out the statue mishap, and walk together for several blocks. She’s with her friend—one of the initial girls from the bar.

They take me to this hotel that displays some poems of the city’s most well known poet. They’ve done a couple fashion shows here. I take some time to explore her interest in fashion design and learn that she is very passionate and driven to succeed in this area. I’m playing the ‘friend’ role and I’m not doing anything flirtatious except for maybe very casual kino, like a brush against her arm or a playful tap. My approach is about the same with the other girl, which I guess is a little flirty, since we have not established a friendship. I lead them to the terrace of this hotel, which they had never checked out.

Leaving, we get caught in a rainstorm. My girl starts dancing in the rain and kicking puddles for show. I love this zest and zeal that she has now. Very attractive. I walk the girls to their car. My girl invites me for dinner at her place later. She describes the pasta that she makes. Me: “That sounds cool, but I kinda have a date, so I’ll have to see how that goes. I think she might be making me dinner.”

Well, she’s not even shocked. She smiles and probes a little bit asking her name and how we met. (BTW, I did indeed have a date. It was the Day2 with the Italian girl that I lost on Day3. So sad.) She tells me to call her anyway to let her know if I would be coming for dinner or not. I agree. We hug each other and part.

Well, that date went rather well. That girl had to part for work or something. I call HBfashiondesign. Of course, she asks about the date. I don’t give too many details (for example I took her to the same area that we were at earlier) and I say: “Well, this girl is gorgeous and really energetic. Great girl. But… have you ever had someone that is interested in you just a little bit more than you’re interested in them?” Haha…

So we arrange a time and place to meet so I can come to her place and we’ll make dinner, again it is late. Instead of getting uptown and driving, I take the Metro from where I am with the expectation that she will drive me across town. Or, more likely, I will stay at her place.


She picks me up at the station. There’s a slight riff because I won’t buy a bottle of wine. She’s like, “I’m cooking you dinner that I paid for, and you won’t even get us some wine.” Honestly, I wasn’t carrying enough money. I gave her $2 and she put the wine on daddy’s credit card. She drives me to her place and I make fun of her horrible music…raggaeton or francophone pop…um, they both suck.

I cut up tomatoes and she cooks this pasta with pesto and fromage. The roommate eats with us. All conversation is neutral. I’m really impressed by all that they have organized and presented as far as fashion shows in the last two years. I insist that we have candles and that the three of us toast. Chin-chin!

Then they take me to their school, which is walking distance. My girl brings the bottle of wine. Protective buzz, maybe? The roommate has none. I have a bit, but didn’t feel tipsy or anything. We find a shopping cart on the street and push each other around. Good times. We get to their campus and they tell me the story of how they met. Stories about classes and fashion show fun and Montreal in the winter. Brrr… We walk back, and HBfashiondesign and I are singing horribly as loud as possible. Wait, to her credit, she actually has a beautiful voice.

The roommate goes to bed. We sit on the terrace. Conversation turns to sex. Can’t remember all the threads, but I know she asks this:

HB: “When’s the last time you had sex?”
GS: “Honestly…yesterday. Wait, technically it was today, like 4am.” (Not the answer she wanted to hear, but I was being honest, and I’m playing the LJBF thing to the hilt. BTW, it was HBelectrique.)
GS: “It was just a random physical thing. I’ve been worked up over someone and I needed to let the tension out. How about you? Last time?” (I noted by her physiology that she caught the ‘worked up over *you*’ bit, then I quickly threw the question back on her.)
HB: “Saturday night. He’s an ex-boyfriend back home. I’m not allowing myself to have sex with anyone new right now….”
GS: “Why is that?”

Well, the floodgate of revelation is open now. I’m kinda aloof and detached from all that she tells me. Just a listening, caring friend. Most the time I’m not even making eye contact, just gazing over the balcony as she speaks.

Well, she tells me that she’s has sex with quite a few guys (including some football player, a male stripper, etc) and she always feels empty and cheated. Like she’s not been able to say ‘no,’ she describes. Like they pursue her and she gives in, but it has never really felt like it was her choice. She always felt powerless. And it was always kinda the same. Just physical, not really emotional. Not caring, not passionate, not putting her needs first. And it was always unprotected and she gets paranoid and worried afterwards.

It’s a cinch from here. I’ll describe my sexual style in as tantalizing and as arrogant of a way as I want. Pull back. Have her chase. Have her beg. She’s obviously curious. She’s obviously looking for something that is not what she is used to. If I can put her in a trance and leave her smiling for days using only my voice, she knows I can fuck.

Notice how I am reframing her final issues while pulling back themes from our previous encounters. Damn this is good:

“I think we’re really different…I think we approach sex differently. The girl I was with last night was unusual for me. Because we didn’t share this emotional connection. But even so, I know that it was the best sex of her life. In fact, she told me so…. And I don’t regret it because I was able to give her something she was missing. I filled this void like no other man could. And it was amazing. The decision was mutual. I didn’t feel like I was getting more out of the experience than her. And she didn’t feel like she was getting more out of the experience than me. We both knew that it would be our only night together, so we didn’t have expectations. We just enjoyed the moment for what it was…all the pleasure and passion that two people can bring one another….

And we had protected sex. It shows proper respect not only for your partner, but for yourself. For me to ever have sex with a woman, she must understand this. And for me to make love with a woman she must also be aware of one more thing….My role is to bring you pleasure beyond anything you are used to, beyond anything you have ever experienced…to bring you absolute passion beyond anything you have even imagined. With every touch…every caress…every kiss…every look deep into your eyes…every penetrating word…my role is to make you come…over and over again…to the conclusion…that this is exactly what you need…and deserve…right now…”

Goddamn that’s a gem! That’s why I am an artist…to say shit like that and get the girl wet, wet, wet…

HB: “Do you want to make love to me?” (Said in a tone that is asking for reassurance.)
GS: “I haven’t decided yet… I am definitely attracted to you and very turned on right now. But I am not sure that you have understood completely what I am about. Do you understand that what I cannot offer you is a sense of future, but I will give you all I can until I have to leave?” HB: “Yes.”
GS: “Do you understand that we will be using protection?”
HB: “Yes”
GS: “Do you understand how intense and incredible this will be?”
HB: “Yes.”
GS: “Do you want to make love to me?”
HB: “Yes.”

I can’t remember who led whom into the bedroom. But I know it was she who lit the candles. Usually when you think about a seduction, there’s a good period of time that elapses between that first kiss and the moment you’re in bed together. Not here. Something I like about this one—after that very first kiss (which had been delayed and delayed)—she’s suddenly ripping at my jeans! Naturally I slow her down and get her to enjoy being pampered and teased and savored. By the time I insert my finger, she is soaked and bucking wildly. But it just wouldn’t be complete without one little instance of LMR…

“We can’t…I can’t let you. You just had sex. It’s not fair…you can’t have two women, two days in a row…”

I continue fingering her and kissing her all over and I say, “You’re right…it’s not fair…that you’re getting all this attention and affection…being pampered and pleased…kissed and touched…exactly the way you like it…”

And we were set for the whole night and morning. The next (and last) time we got together we had sex in the planetarium...

Bon moment. Aime la vie. GoneSavage

Montreal: LR: Flipping the Sexual Script (Part 2)

Part 2 (posted: 8/16/05)

Did you ever stop to think why Congress voted in 1970 to outlaw the use of sound to sell tobacco? Did you ever wonder why you could repeat what the teacher had just said when she stopped and asked, “Are you listening?” even though you hadn’t been listening? Did you ever consider why eyewitnesses can always agree on precisely what they heard, but none can recall with clarity quite what they saw?

So I’ve flaked on them twice. Then HBfashiondesign and her roommate walk to where they thought I was staying. Of course, I’m not there. So it’s almost like a third failed attempt at meeting. What’s next?

The next day I’m at Tam-Tams with KitKatMan. He’s witness to this crazy phone call. Basically I call her and explain that I attempted to meet, but I was late because of traffic and not knowing the city. I sincerely apologize. Then, assuming I still have her interest, I try to structure a new Day2 that will actually put me closer to her. In other words, not a neutral meeting place, but I will come straight to her home. Why? Because clearly I am unreliable, I have flaked twice already, and I’d hate for her to invest more time or resources on someone, not even knowing if he’ll be there or not. This way, she assumes no risk. The risk is all on me. (How’s that for reframing?)

It’s a fun conversation. She’s painting her living room. I talk about how I would not normally volunteer myself for work, especially since I am on vacation, but I feel bad about flaking and I would be willing to come help paint to make it up to her. I describe that it might actually be fun and we’d get into a paint fight and then make dinner together. Well, she bites—but she wants to finish the paining herself. Go ahead. The time we’ll meet is yet-to-be-determined, as I am set to call her back, I think at 9pm. I tell her that’s too late for dinner, but she should have some popsicles (she was eating one on the phone) and red wine ready when I get there.

I call later and catch her and finally—third day in a row at attempting this Day2—we’re set to meet at a particular Metro station. And we were set to meet late, like 10pm. I drove to the location and I’m looking for her to show in a red Turcel. Quickly I realize how many people in Montreal drive little red cars. And she’s late, getting later.

I’m thinking karma. I’ve flaked on her twice and now she’s getting me back. I call the house and get her roommate. She says that HBfashiondesign left to pick me up. Perhaps we have miss-communicated on the location (again). I tell the roommate specifically where I am and that I will stay there in case she calls or comes back—send her out again!

So I wait and wait and I sit there outside the Metro writing up another LR. And she finally shows…but look who’s with her…the roommate that I had been seducing on the phone…we finally meet…and she’s cute as can be. Not gorgeous like my girl, but adorably cute with ravenous eyes. Me likes.

And you see what had happened. There had been some kind of mix-up with the meet-up and my girl indeed went home, got my message (and the roommate) and came back out to find me. So it’s like eleven and here they BOTH are. I agree to follow in my vehicle. And you know what I’m thinking. Look at this continued doubled pursuit, look at the attraction and intrigue I have build with both, look at the email how the original girl is protective of and ‘loves’ the roommate, look how sexy they are, look at the time…is this really headed where I think?

So we get to their place and they are inseparable. Not affectionate with each other by any means, but neither will leave my company. I’m playing it by ear. They give me a tour and show me the rooms they have painted. They have good tastes, and we put on some chill music. I find out that they have known each other for a year, from school, and my girl studies fashion design and the other girl fashion marketing at a local reputable college. At nineteen, they are both very involved in the Montreal fashion-scene and putting together shows, etc.

No wine. We have some cookies. We’re in the kitchen. I introduce them both to The Cube. They love it. Things correlate easily with the ladder. The horse looks the same—easy to paint it as me without explicitly saying such. The horse is prancing around the bottom of my girl’s cube and running past the cube of the roommate. I’m trying to think how to escalate. I suggest a movie. They don’t have anything they haven’t seen, it’s late, etc etc.

My girl brings up handwriting analysis. I must have mentioned it at the club. Haven’t done this in a long time, but not a problem, I can show them the basics. For fun, I have them write in French. By the way, both girls are well educated and truly bilingual. It’s nice. They love the analysis and I show them the different traits in a teaching frame. My girl is much more inquisitive, but the other girl will not stop looking at me with this sly smile. I still can’t figure out the dynamic here.

I figure I need to give them time to speak to each other. I walk off to my girl’s bedroom and say, “When you get a minute, I’ll show you something really amazing.” I figure I’ll improvise some kind of dual massage. They exchange a few words in French, but it’s not long until they are both in the room. I instruct them to sit on the bed. My girl has to go to the bathroom.

While she’s gone, the roommate lies across the bed. I lay across her with my head on her abs and I start to show her how to give a hand massage. I believe I could have kissed her, but I did not want my initial girl to walk in on that. If this wasn’t going into threesome territory, my loyalty is still toward the original girl. Good call.

HBfashiondesign comes back and sees me lounging on her roommate with her hand in mine. She maintains her smile, but initiates conversation (in French, of course) with the roommate. They are both smiling and laughing and it is clear they are talking about me. Playfully, I’m like, “Okay okay, let me in on the joke, let’s practice English, what are you two saying about me?”

Well, my girl speaks, and I get slammed. As directly and clearly as can be, she says: “You’re in my bed and you’re touching my roommate. I believe that you know these things, that you learn pop psychology, to make women comfortable around you. So you can sleep with them. In fact, I don’t think you even care which one of us.”

Damn. Looks like this wasn’t going to be a threesome after all. Maybe ‘taking everything as an IOI’ has nipped me in the ass. In retrospect, I actually wonder to what degree they had communicated ahead of time to keep things ambiguous and a little flirty, especially with the second girl. Testing my interest in the initial girl. These girls are definitely socially savvy, as most true beauties are.

So it was a test, of sorts. Some guys would say a heavy ‘shit-test.’ Big deal. Most of the ‘shit-test’ stuff I just roll with instead of debating or deflecting. Someone once called it ‘synching with resistance.’ Sort of an acceptance then a reframe; pacing and leading. Okay, cool, let’s reframe this. And it goes a little something like this….

“I’m really amazed by how perceptive you are. You’re a little off in your analysis, but I love the way you observe and interpret things. And I appreciate you ability to just come forward and bluntly tell me your impression. I value directness and honest opinions. You’re right…I love to be around beautiful women. I love the company of attractive women, but that is not enough. For me to be truly comfortable opening up, I need to know that you also have other qualities. If a girl is genuine and real, and intelligent, and perceptive, and has a positive energy and a great outlook on life, then that is when I really consider taking things physically. And that’s why I study things that you call ‘pop psychology’ because they help me screen out people that I don’t match with. So I don’t waste my time. Sex as a physical act is mere athletics, stuff like The Cube and handwriting analysis help me find those rare women that are compatible emotionally. We’re at a crossroads here because I truly find you both attractive and compatible. I would be lying if I told you otherwise. It’s a strange circumstance because I’m on a path to certain adventure and a connection like you have never imagined and it looks like only one of you can join me. If you think about the things I have shown you tonight, then we all know whom.”

I said this as a monologue. I delivered this calmly and matter-of-factly, more slowly, and probably with even more words. Yes, they both sat quietly and listened.

I’m intentionally ambiguous, especially there at the end. During this little monologue I was looking back and forth at them both, probably a bit more at HBfashiondesign who seemed to be devouring my words with her eyes. The other girl sits peacefully with an unchanging smile. But when I feel like I’ve said enough (perhaps too much I’m thinking), I turn away. It works. Without any verbal exchange, I hear someone, one girl, leave the room. I turn back and I’m face-to-face with HBfashiondesign.

I say, “I’m here for you. And I’m here for a reason.” And she literally explodes in tears and embraces me. I just hold her tight and let her cry. Finally she asks me to let her roommate know that she is okay. Sure.

I go into the other girl’s room and she’s just changed into a nightgown. I say, “Remember how your horse was just kinda running past you and how HBfashiondesign saw the same horse but he was behaving much differently? Well, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you and the attraction here is unmistakable, but, um, it looks like I’m here for her. She has something bothering her, I don’t know if you know about it, but I’m going to help her.” She nods and says nothing. I give her a big hug and say goodnight.

I go back to HBfashiondesign and I just have this convincing attitude that I can help her. I’m not thinking about sex, just that vague concept of “leave them better than you found them.” And I have this conviction that I can do something profound and leave her feeling great. I take on this healer frame that is incredibly empowering and I say “I can help you. I can make you feel amazing.” She starts to tell me that she has a feeling of emptiness, this ‘void’ inside her. She cries a lot for no reason. I tell her that I do not need details or specifics to make her feel great.

At this point she tells me that she’s not going to have sex with me. She’s not ready. Okay. But she further states that she’s not attracted to me ‘that way’ and can never be. Ouch, that hurts a little. Yeah, I got LJBF’ed. I’ve got that voice that’s saying “You went from being a pop-psychology entertainer to a friend with no benefits, do not become her therapist!” But what I can’t convey is this strange sense of purpose that I had anyway. I was going to do it; I was going to try my best to make her feel great without even thinking of sex.

First I said something to her that kinda seemed to me like I was flip-flopping at the time. But as I look back, I think it was a strong thing to say to get her chasing. I said: “I really want to help you, but my role is not as a therapist. We all have different roles in our lives…you’re a daughter, a sister, a roommate, a best friend, a student…but the role I’m interested in is you as a woman. I know that we are meant to be more than friends. But I have to leave soon, so I can accept not having you as a lover. And I want to give you this experience, because I know it will make you feel remarkable inside and allow you to move into the future full of hope and passion.”

So I was careful of several things. I reiterated that I’m not a therapist—I just know how to communicate in ways that make people feel good. Absolutely everything I said was positive. I made it a point for her not to tell me specifically of any traumatic ‘instances.’ I was not ‘healing’ her, just giving her a new perspective. I knew I could do this just based on my conviction and self-confidence and the other ‘inner’ attributes that we talk about. It’s all the same.

I had her close her eyes and hold my hands as we sat across from each other on the bed. I first drew her awareness to tangible sensations (being aware of noises in the room, temperatures and textures, breathing, the sound of my voice) and then led her more and more into feelings (like feeling complete, feeling whole, having a sense of purpose, a sense of certainty, hope, assurance, sureness, confidence, etc etc) Then I led her on this relaxing guided visualization journey that was utterly pleasing and vivid. Nothing really involved, just leading her imagination. Just using the power of my voice and carefully chosen words to bring her a pleasant and positive experience.

Afterwards, she tells me how good it felt and I explain to her that whenever she feels something negative or she feels that ‘void’ creeping in, she’ll remember this experience and all those wonderful positive sensations. I describe to her how I watched her physiology change and how she would melt or smile or grip my hands. It was fun. I left at like 5:30 in the morning. She had to work so early (she is a physical trainer at a gym) and said she’d just stay up. I left her on a really upbeat note and I hugged her and reminded her that I didn‘t know how long I would be staying, but I value our friendship and I hope we both make an effort to get together and do something, you know as friends.

And I leave with that mentality. I’m comfortable with being just friends. Actually, honestly, I’m kinda thinking this—you know it’s too bad that I am leaving because I bet she would be really cool to have as a friend. And well, since we’d just be friends, I bet I could get in easily will all her hot fiends! Haha, I’m only a man. But yeah, other than that thought, I’m really cool with just being friends. The point is, I really left feeling like I made a positive impact on her life and I did not need to pursue her sexually.

Now if she pursues me…that’s a different story….

Bon moment. Aime la vie. GoneSavage

Montreal: LR: Flipping the Sexual Script (Part 1)

Part 1 (posted 8/15/05)

This is the story of HBfashiondesign. It’s an interesting tale that involves a foolish misinterpretation, dramatic let’s-just-befriending, and larger-than-life frame control. And in the end, I get the girl…wrapped around my finger. Overall, the dominant theme and key to this lay is reframing….

Note: This LR is dense with actual email correspondence from HBfashiondesign.

Day 1

I met her on July 19th at Club Loft. For some reason this club has a huge draw on Tuesdays. Mostly what I remember about the place is that it was the hottest club I had ever been to (temperature-wise) with no AC and I was absolutely drenched with sweat. Like everyone else in the place. There was a rooftop terrace and a huge line of people waiting to get to the top. The other thing that I remember is that my game was going nowhere in the lower level. Loud, bad music, way too hot. Very francophone crowd that would sooner walk away than even attempt to speak English with me. So I get in line to go to the terrace where it will be cooler and quieter and hopefully communication will go further.

She was in a group consisting of three other women. All were remarkably attractive. They had their own table and a pitcher of beer. They looked like a group of close friends happily making their own fun. I pull up a chair and join them at their table. They’re shocked. I immediately start talking about my impression of the club and of Montreal.

I get the ‘where are you from’ stuff out of the way and I tell them that I’ve been given my own Canadian province to populate. Then I start a future-projection role-playing scenario in which I tell them the positions that I need filled and we help each other determine who’s right for each. So the girl who knows the most about the city is my tour guide. The girl who responds the most when I ask what words are in French becomes my French teacher. The third girl is my cook. I tell her that I expect more than maple syrup,
Canadian bacon, and putine and I tell her all the cuisines she must master.

I’ve saved my target for last. She’s not only the most beautiful, but she also has the most dominant energy of the group. We could match wits all night, for real. But largely, until now, I have been ignoring her and not acknowledging her questions and interjections while I talked with the other girls. I wanted to make them laugh and get them to be comfortable and accepting of my presence. Done.

So now I have the attention of primarily my girl and the second-hottest girl. The second girl is quite flirty. My girl tells me that this one is drunk. And to not mess with her. I shake my head in agreement. I compliment my girl’s leadership and protective qualities. I then assign her as my ‘spiritual advisor’ and I describe how she is going to read my horoscope daily, be my motivation coach, and overwhelm me with positivism and optimism. I tell her that I need her to be open, adventurous, intelligent, and trustworthy. I quickly give her a version of the trust test, framed as screening her for trustworthiness.

By now, the friends want to go dance. She wants to go with the friends. We’re all standing and we’re directly in front of each other now. I say, “It was fun messing around with your friends and sharing laughs with them, but to get to know you was the reason I came and sat down. I found you attractive, and now I see that you are more than just a pretty face. I have a feeling that if we spent time together one-on-one we would totally ‘click’ and who knows how we might enhance each other’s lives.”

And I go into my ‘cell-phone doesn’t work here’ close. Neither of us has a pen for her to take my email. The friends claim not to have pens and they are nagging her to dance. She says, “Just remember my phone number.” Skeptically, I tell her that there is no way I’m going to remember it, but I will try because I know that she will benefit so much by hanging out with me again. They head off downstairs. I find someone with a pen and write down the number I’ve been repeating. Funny thing, I did actually memorize the number. Of all the girls I dealt with in Montreal, this is the only number I had memorized, and it’s still stuck in my head. Sneaky girl.

So the next day, I call her from the Marriott and leave a message telling her that I’m easier to keep in touch with by email and I leave my email address. I wait two days before I call again, as she has not written. I return to the Marriott (found a phone I use to make free local calls) and I call the number and my girl’s not there, but I get her roommate on the phone….

This is intense. The roommate sounds hella cute. And she’s working as an intern designing underwear! How fun. I kept talking to the roommate and I was playing heavy on themes of once in a lifetime opportunities and seizing the moment, etc, etc. I’m trying to get this girl to come out and meet me that night, blind-date style. I tell a story of perfect lovers who leave things up to ‘fate’ to meet again and when they finally do, they don’t recognize each other. We’re given one chance and that we have to take advantage, NOW. Isn’t it exciting…come meet me. Anyway, she lives so far away, etc etc. I get her to agree to meet me the next day after work.

Man, this girl sounded so sweet. Two nineteen year old roommates. What am I to do? I’m thinking that, if nothing else, I have introduced a little competition. And what do you know, that night the initial girl sends me an email. So, it looks like she did get the earlier message after all when I left my email address. Here it is:

“I heard you met [my roommate] tonight. It's really strange that you connected with her as well. I can understand though because she's pretty much at the same level as I am. I must warn you though….I'm not afraid of people, not even of you. I must admit that we don't meet a lot of people of your kind. So, like I said the night we met, I trust people, I trust you, but if you mess with me or [my roommate], I will be so mad you can't imagine. Take care of her, don't mess with her.....I love her. I'm sorry to tell you that so early, but I want to be clear. My friends didn't see right through you that night and they told me to be careful…so as I like my friends and myself, I will be on my guard just a little bit. I have no problem meeting you...as long as you’re polite, friendly and deep. I'm not in a really good place right now, so maybe that's why we connected. You see, I felt what you had to give me, and if you can help me just to let go....that would be great. I won’t tell you more because I'm tired, like always, and I need to get some rest. I work tomorrow till 10 pm, and then, as soon as I’m finished, I will be getting home where you can call me. I will probably be there around 11 pm or 11.30 pm. So call me if you're interested. By the way, I'm pretty impressed that you remembered my phone number…really impressed!”

So…they were talking about me. Interest now seems high with both. The email is pretty revealing. The next day, Friday, was my triple-lay day (LRx3: Trois beautées en une seule journée), which took some careful orchestrating, so I flaked on meeting the roommate. That night I call and I get the original girl on the phone. Check this out…it turns out that they were BOTH at the meeting spot, set to see me. Hmmm…. Well, I keep chatting with this girl and we set up a time to meet the next night. But again, we set up a time and place that I would be meeting them BOTH. Interesting.

Well, I’m an asshole. I flake AGAIN. I actually tried to make it, but I was driving downtown on a Saturday night and I never anticipated so much traffic. I did show up, but I was like forty minutes late. Didn’t see them, although there is some confusion as to whether we even came to the same spot. Oh well. I go off and do my thing-thing, and when I check my email in the morning, I read this:

“You poor guy, you missed us twice in two days...fate is against you. Ok, its 2:06 in the morning...we are at the Marriot hotel, we are waiting down stairs. I hope you get the message tonight. We need your last name to get to your room. Leave us your room number so we can get in touch.”

Are you thinking what I’m thinking? What might have happened if I had gotten this email? Why are they BOTH so determined to meet? (It’s funny that they assume I stay at the Marriott because I call from there.) How were they able to send an email from the hotel? What did they do between the time we were set to meet and 2am? How long did they wait in the hotel lobby for me? How can I turn this around after flaking TWICE? What’s next?

Bon moment. Aime la vie. GoneSavage

Montreal: LR: Crazy Francophone Sex


Saturday July 30th… This post details my first SDL in Montreal. The experience was both very challenging and very rewarding. We’ll call this 22 year old HBfrancofolies. The prevalent theme here is persistence.

I’ve encountered a couple people that assert that Québécoise (French-Canadian) girls are “easy.” In my experience so far, I disagree. I’ve had plenty of girls not open up whatsoever and I’ve lost plenty due to ASD or bad logistics. However, I offer the following observations on Montreal:

--PDA (including girl-girl PDA) seems a little more socially permissible.
--I’ve noticed a disproportionate amount of hot chicks with ugly guys.
--Prostitution and ‘contact’ strip bars and sex shops are commonplace.
--The city is huge; there’s a lot of intermingled cultures and festivals every summer night.

It really appears to be a laid-back chill kinda place that seems remarkably socially tolerant. One of the first things I tell new people I meet is that everyone I have met so far has been really kind, open, receptive, and responsive. I believe it sets the stage for them to be the same. A few more observations:

--Québécoise girls respond to me in spite of the fact that I am American, certainly not because of it.
--Francophone girls respond to me in spite of the fact that I speak no French, not because of it. (In fact, it downright annoys some to have to speak English.)
--Speaking English in addition to French is a matter of attaining a proper education. It has been explained to me by several people that the francophone have resentment for going to a poor school or for having not done well in school to be truly bilingual.
--Quebec has its own sense of regional pride. The Québécoise express disdain for the United States, as well as other Canadian province, especially Ontario. And also the “from-France” French.
--Quebec has its own laws (including those enforced by “language police”), customs, music, cuisine etc, etc.
--Virtually no one can tell you how many states are in the US or how many provinces are in Canada. No one cares.
--Monday, one day shy of three weeks in Montreal, I officially lost my tourist-aura; three people asked me for directions. As such, my stories as a visitor are much less potent.

So what about the fucking lay report?!? Onward…

I’m at this street festival called FrancoFolies. It’s a huge free event that features seven stages of francophone musicians. Very diverse crowd. Very crowded. Very loud.

I’m watching this French hip-hop group end their set. I pass behind the stage (it’s in the street) to avoid the crowd at the front and make my way to a different area. I notice that there are actually young teenage girls with little autograph books waiting. A few meters away there is a really cute blonde standing alone at the side of the stage. Average height, average attire, fit body, but her face is really super beautiful. I notice she has a laminate around her neck.

“Hey are you waiting to get an autograph? Are you a groupie?” She misunderstands. She’s telling me to go behind the stage if I want an autograph. I drop the thread. “Hey what’s this for?” I grab her laminate. “What’s your role in all this?” She tells me to speak French. I tell her that it’s International English Day and everyone worldwide is speaking English today and she can go back to French tomorrow.

You know how Mystery says that the most important state to be in is talkative? And Juggler says that you have to be willing to carry 90% of the conversation in the beginning? Well, it’s not always the case. But with the francophone, I think it’s mostly necessary—and I just keep talking. I’m telling her how much I like the city and how nice everyone is and how it’s so nice to have stumbled upon this festival and how I need a tour guide and a French teacher.

Finally she asks where I am from. Finally she tells me that she works for the record label that handles the rap group that we just saw. So you do know some English, you bad girl. She tells me that she has to go meet someone at another stage. I’m like, “Cool. What band? Are they any good? I’ll go with you. What a beautiful night…” Blah blah blah… We walk to the other stage. She asks my name and we shake hands. I tell her to spin and she’s reluctant. I tell her to lighten up and smile.

HB: “Look, I’ll hang out with you. But this isn’t going to go where you want it to go. I have a boyfriend.”
GS: “Cool. Don’t make assumptions. I’m just here to smile and laugh and enjoy the moment. That’s it. Be nice and I’ll treat you to the captivating company of a perfect stranger. Hey, you going to the fireworks competition? I was about to go to the Old Port…”
HB: “I know a better spot. We’ll have to take the Metro though.”
GS: “Okay, but if we miss the fireworks, I’ll be so disappointed and I’ll go find a new best friend. Hey, what’s ‘fireworks’ in French?”

Honestly, at this point, I think it’s a loss. She’s really standoffish with her arms crossed and such. I figured we would separate once we got to the vicinity of the fireworks, where I wanted to mingle anyway. But I still get this oh-so-slight vibe of interest even though her demeanor changes not at all. Damn she’s cute. And this poker face is so alluring.

And she asks me if I have ever had a Queque de Castor (Beaver’s Tail). It’s a flat deep-fiend pastry topped with cinnamon and lemon juice (or other confections). I have not had one, but they have been recommended to me. She tells me that she is addicted to them. So we stop walking and I thought she was going to order one and give me a bite. But she orders two. Cool. I thank her for being such a sweetie and I give her a big hug.

We eat our snack and head to the Metro. On the train, I just keep conversation light and playful and I continue smiling at her. I ask her words in French, which gives her a chance to correct me and make fun of me. We get to Papineau and “it looks like everyone knows about your secret spot.” The sortie for the station is so densely packed with everyone coming to watch the last night of the Fireworks Competition.

I extend my hand to her. She shakes her head and says, “No.” I grab her hand and lean in and say, “So we don’t get separated.” I’m holding her hand and I initiate a little light finger rubbing. It is not returned. But she continues to hold my hand after we are out of the crowd. The whole area is chockablock. I casually let her hand fall.

We sit and chat a little. She’s frustrated that I can’t speak any French. The fireworks begin and the crowd falls silent. It’s a half hour show. At one point I take her hand and put it on my knee. She pulls it away, “Why is it so important to you?” I say, “Because it’s fun and it makes you feel good. This isn’t going anywhere, so we might as well be close for the few minutes that we are together. Just pretend.” I take her hand again and give her a big grin.

I hold her hand between both of mine. I look to the sky, not at her. The show is amazing. I start, ever so lightly, rubbing my finger in circles across her hand. Slowly building in pressure and variance. When I stop--what do you know--she’s ever-so-lightly rubbing my hand.

After the show, I spin her and hug her and thank her for showing me such a wonderful spot. We walk to a Depanneur to get some water. “What next?” I ask if she wants to get a beer or a coffee. She says she just wants to sit and talk. It’s Saturday night and people are everywhere and she wants to get out of the crowd. I ask if she knows of a little park. We walk to one she knows of and it is blocked off for the night. I lead her to this concrete railing big enough for us to sit upon.

Oh yeah, right before this, there was another point where I almost walked away:

HB: “Don’t touch me. I told you I have a boyfriend.”
GS: “Sure, okay. I only have a couple days to enjoy the excitement and energy of this city. You seem pretty cool and I’d like for you to just relax and show a little enthusiasm in these moments that we have together. There is nothing that I expect from you except that we just show each other mutual respect and, you know, smile and laugh. Like this!”
HB: “I don’t really care. I could be all like this flirty tour guide of yours and say ‘Look at this! Look at this!’ but I don’t feel like it. I don’t feel comfortable with you.”
GS: “No problem. I’m sure you are tired, we can talk, or maybe I should go off and find someone with a littler more enthusiasm and energy. I rather enjoy your company and your perspective on things, but I’m only here a couple more days…maybe we can do something tomorrow. Do you have email?”
HB: “This isn’t fun anymore. I have to go.”
GS: “Sure, let’s just sit down and talk for a minute…”

So we sit on the concrete railing and talk. I tell her that she seems a lot different than me and that we butt heads too much. Bu if we had like a whole day to just focus on getting to know each other we’d be the kind of people who align their energies and just “get” each other and we’d be best friends. “Hey let me show you this cool visualization exercise. Once I tell you the secret it will be something you’ll want to share with all your friends. Most of all it will let me know of you are the kind of person I’d really enjoy spending time with…” So I introduce her to The Cube. Spot on.

I love when you’re with a woman and you can see the transformation taking place. Like the walls, the barriers are just melting away. She’s laughing more, she more open and expressive, she’s more receptive to touch. I love that.

So we continue talking and I ask some fun questions. She’s comfortable holding my hand. I feel its time to kiss her. I go in and it is eagerly accepted. Devoured.

Suddenly things are comfortable and fun. I spin her and tickle her and we kiss some more. We talk about getting a drink or bungee jumping off the Olympic Stadium. We walk hand in hand. It’s midnight and the Metro will close soon. I find out that she can drive and that she has a car (kinda rare here). So I say, for us to hang out, we either have to get my car and drive downtown or go get your car and drive downtown. Or we’ll be stuck until the subway opens in the morning. We look at the Metro map and decide to get my car. We sit outside the Metro and hold each other and chat.

She’s close but she’s still telling me how she has a boyfriend and she lives with him and she can’t do anything with me and she knows she is passing up an opportunity. I just smile and nod. She goes on to tell me that she wishes it didn’t have to be that way…she wishes that we didn’t have to be so exclusive and monogamous. I say “It doesn’t have to be that way; you just ended up with someone who’s not me. I would have so much to teach someone as open and adventurous as you. It really is too bad I can’t let this happen.” (Notice that I act as if it is not going to happen for my reasons.)

So I talk about how I screen women for good energy and intelligence and high self esteem with The Cube and questions that I ask. I talk about how for the right woman, I provide fairytale romance. I put her on a pedestal and treat her like a queen. I tell her that even if out time together is short, she will be adored and fulfilled beyond her dreams. She tells me that she knows she is missing something, but she just can’t. Okay. She tells me that her relationship with her boyfriend was open and rewarding long ago, but now they are in a lease together and he’s the jealous type, etc. She also tells me that she has been with women and I ask her what she finds sexy about women.

I tell her that there is someone she has to meet. I tell her about this gorgeous and passionate woman that will just love her. And even though I will be gone and never get to see this, I will put them in touch because I know they will enjoy each other. I’m trying to get her to accept the idea of cheating—just not with me. (Another woman—that doesn’t count, right?) I borrow her phone and call HBcafe.

GS: “Hey sweetheart, I have someone I’d like you to meet…”
HB: “Is it a girl?”
GS: “Mmmhmmm…and she’s absolutely adorable. I could just eat her up she’s so gorgeous. You will like her. She’s so breathtaking and passionate and she’s an amazing kisser.”

Anyway, I’m stroking HBfrancofolies face and kissing her while I talk to HBcafe. She tells me that she is already drinking, is going to get hammered, and can’t meet us. But she tells me to have fun and come see her one last time on Sunday. I agree. Meanwhile, HBfrancofolies reminds me that we have to rush and catch the last Metro. Okay.

So there was a minute of deliberation and she talked herself out of going to my station to get my vehicle. Okay, I’ll come with you. There’s still hesitation. “We’ll go get your car and drive back downtown and have a drink. All in casual fun. Don’t you have a CD that you want to give me?”

So we get to her place. Nice loft apartment, kinda messy. She gives me about ten promo CDs. We kiss a few times and share a Corona. She plays some music and shows me the hammock on her terrace. When I try to take things beyond kissing, she says, “No. I told you it wasn’t going to happen. I have to drive you home now.”

“Okay cool, what do you want to listen to on the ride? Pick out a good CD.” I know it seems like I got rejected. But somehow I’m thinking…she just doesn’t want it here; it’s his place too… when we get to my wheel estate, I have home-court advantage. It’s ON.

So we drive across the city. We’re just talking about music and travel and such. I have her park next to the van. I hop out and pull my computer out of the van and I tell her I am going to show her some pictures. I show her a few shots outside the van, and then, noticing that it is lightly raining, I invite her to come into the van.

Of course she thinks it is cozy. She divulges that for like a year she crashed at the apartments of different friends while all her belongings were kept in her car. A little different than my story, but relative. I like her openness now. So I show her a few pictures and close the computer with some Bonobo running.

I pull her close and we proceed to make out. She reminds me that she can’t do anything even though she really wants to. She says I am “cute” and that she knows it would be really amazing. Okay, cool. Now is the time that I break into sensual talk. Seemed wise to save it until I could get her close and in isolation. We’re lying down with our limbs intertwined. I’m whispering in her ear. Themes of sensuality and desire and arousal. I describe how aroused I know that I have her and how I can tell she is wet without touching her.

We’re kissing and caressing each other and I’m not blocked reaching into her jeans. Of course she is soaked and I tell her so. She reminds me of the boyfriend one more time. I say, “At this point there are only two options, either you leave him for more fulfilling options or you allow yourself this intense, passionate, juicy secret that you’ll remember and cherish for the rest of your life.” I slide my finger deep inside her and whisper, “I want to taste you…”

“Do you have a condom?” This was actually unexpected. I said, “Of course…I wouldn’t have you any other way…but, right now, I just want to taste you.” So we rip each other’s clothes off and I tease her while she is literally begging for cock. “I want you in me…I want you in me…now…”

She says, “Don’t you leave a trace of this on me.” And it was wild. Very intense, thrashing about kind of sex. She was quite verbal and obscene, which I like. “This is so fucking amazing…I love the way you fuck me…” alternating with a few French expressions.

When we were done, she dressed, then drove away with this devilish grin.

Love Life. GoneSavage

Montreal: I Met an Angel Last Night


Here’s another fun email—-she titled it “I met an angel last night.” This stuff makes me smile. Hate to leave the city. I spent about twenty minutes with this girl and I gave her my email before she left. Very cute.

I was out opening by hitting people with a rolled up newspaper. I explained to this girl that my time was limited and it was my efficiency screen for meeting people that were fun and open and outgoing that I could easily connect with. If they smiled at me, I was in—time to see what they’re about. If they said “fuck off” or whatever, I knew not to waste my time. Anyway, this was fun. I got this girl to hit some guy on the head in passing (she explains in her email) and he turned and smiled at her. I’m out here having fun and enjoying life. It went nowhere in a sexual-sense, but I had some kind of effect on her. Check it out. Kinda hints at our potential as artists and men. Maybe you agree…

”Thanks for having been there tonight... I truly needed it...like a cold shower, like a wake-up call... You told me it's important to be honest... let's then do so...

When I left in bike, I was almost crying... not that I was so sad to leave you (sorry!!;-)) but simply 'cause you had helped me realize...you said the only thing that counts is present time, what you do now, how you enjoy life...or put simply... 'It’s not the destination, but the journey that counts'...

For a while, I have been feeling life as a whole and the way we as humans are living it is a pure joke... it is truly not real nor sincere... it is fake... We put emphasis on the wrong things... job, money, power...we forget to laugh too often...

When I decided to play a bit tonight and tapped a guy on the head as you taught me to do, I felt so ... alive...like a kid you know…it's stupid, it's just a little game... it's just teasing... but it's human communication through smiles... I loved it...

Have you ever noticed when you walk in a street in a big city (it's the case here in Montreal), every time you pass someone, you sort of look down... (Well maybe not YOU, cause your whole person is going against that) BUT I AM DOING IT OFTEN... I have never been doing it before...I started it about 2 years ago, when I moved in Montreal... (I'm coming from a smaller town, Québec, which I hope you will take the time to go and visit 'cause it's beautiful.)

Well this whole thing of not looking in people's eyes is really sucking my energy out... I know it is not normal, it's a type of protection or I don't know what... it's really not what I should be doing and I was in fact questioning that problem yesterday night...

Yesterday night, I asked that something comes to help me change my perception...

I went to the festival cause I wanted to walk alone and look at people and think... I like those lonely night sometimes... I was also going there hoping that I could share something too... I spoke to a couple of people... about simple things, 'a nice bracelet that you have there madam!' 'you want to win the car, here's the code that goes there'... 'oh thanks'... even those small pieces of conversations with strangers are good...

Then you arrive and at first, I'm thinking, well fine, another guy hunting...that's why I was quite cold...the more you talked, the more I listened, the more I realized, well, he has something to teach me...let's follow him for a while...

But there is something simple here in Québec that is part of our culture and that is that as a girl, you don't want to be hanging out with too many guys (even if simple friends) holding hands and chatting closely, when you have a boyfriend... so here's the reason why I said so many noooos...

But I know this wasn't the purpose of that encounter... I needed you to make me laugh and make me realize I needed my life to be way more light and easy... Maybe you do not believe that we all have a certain role in other people's lives... (Well I think you actually do...) but thanks for having played that role tonight. Sincerely…

On n'est jamais si bien servi que par soi-meme...alors si vous chercher le bonheur, n'attendez pas qu'il passe, créer-le!"

Montreal: FR: Perdre 3 beautés en 1 seule journée


I just experienced THREE dramatic losses in the same day. I actually have five diverse and unique LRs that I could/should write. But I find myself instead thinking about these three losses of Friday, August 5th…

Once upon a time, I was thinking about making a list of my top five or ten misses on the PUA-Tour. These are girls that were exceptionally beautiful that shared a great time with me that I then lost for whatever reason. As an artist, I always wonder what I could have done differently. Anyway, the losses I have experienced in Montreal alone would dominate the list. Damn I have lost some dazzling and dynamic women, which just seemed sure-to-bone. Oh well.

Note: This post is heavy laden with actual real-life emails from my girls, because that’s how I like to document things. These emails should help you see the effect that I have on women (both in gaining and losing). Interpret at your own risk.

Friday Girl #1:

First I had a date at noon. This girl I had met two weeks prior. Street meet—contact close. I flaked on our first Day2 attempt. I apologized in an email and suggested that I come to her area of town so she wouldn’t have to invest resources to meet if she felt like I might flake again. She said she still wanted to meet, and the emails showed that she was still intrigued. Yesterday was the earliest we could have gotten together. Her email to me after my flake, shows how not showing up, although largely unintentional, served to increase interest:

”It’s 11h06, I’m back from my travel to the Vieux Port...I feel like I’ve lived a whole day since 7 this morning.....I don’t know how I should feel, sad or mad or stupid.... I feel strange.... So many questions are bursting in my head! Where should I have been? Were you late, lost, dead, kidnapped, asleep, in front of another statue...? Were you waiting for me somewhere else? And where was this ‘somewhere else’?

I waited 30 minutes, then I started walking, drawing squares around the Place Jacques-Cartier and the Bonsecours market searching for the somewhere else, searching for the other statue.....I was waiting in front of Nelson's statue, on the Jacques Cartier Place. The Old Montréal was beautiful under the light of the morning sun, but I was alone and I felt lost....Why was this meant to happen? Where was the somewhere else? Was it the Maisonneuve's statue in front of a cathedral?

I’m so sorry about all that.... I feel like I’ve lived a whole life since I’ve met you, and I really wanted to see you again. I still don't understand why was this meant to happen, but too many times in my life I didn't know how to seize the opportunities presented to me, and while I was waiting, I thought ‘Well, when you fall off the horse you have to hop back on...’ I think that it is not too late to try again....Well, tell me if you still have the time to visit the city and take some pictures....”

So we finally coordinate plans to meet again. She’s at the meeting spot and I’m actually on time. We walk the Old Port and talk. (BTW, she’s another Quebecois and her English isn’t the greatest.) She reveals a few things. She says she’s been apprehensive about meeting me again. For one thing, she couldn’t remember exactly what I looked like. She described how she dreams of her ideal man, but his face is always a blur, just like my face in her memory. She also talks about how she was thinking I was part of the Mafia because she thought I was smooth in dealing with people and I got her comfort and fascination very easily. She wondered if I was going to kidnap her and sell her into slavery. I laugh and play along with this exaggerated scenario while addressing the real concern at hand.

We climb this twelve story fire escape and take pictures of the port. (She’s a photography student, age 18.) From here we have great views and share our first kiss. I talk about sensuality and passion and give the Sensuality Test. She’s actually quite thoughtful about it and came up with questions of her own. What’s more sensual…silence or conversation? (I choose silence and riff on themes of how nonverbal communication trumps verbal and how sensual it is to just look into someone’s eyes or give them a glance or a smile.) She had another good question that I wish I could remember.

I assuage all her concerns. I reframe everything as being cooperative and mutual. And beautiful and passionate. Even if I am here for such a short time, I have only to offer honesty and respect and magical experiences. She’s very comfortable with me. I tell her that she’s hijacked my brain. I show her some massage techniques. We proceed to make out way up on this fire escape. The scene is exciting for us both. There are literally like a thousand people beneath us and curtain-less windows on all the skyscrapers surrounding us. There are people milling about in the office behind us that leads to the escape. I’m sucking on her breasts and rubbing her crotch. “We have to stop, we’re going to get arrested.” There are a lot of cops beneath us and people absolutely everywhere. Just making out, I am sure we had an audience. I considered it very likely that we would get arrested as we would be trapped on the escape and even without fucking, we were still trespassing. Maybe if she had a skit on, we could have…

So let’s find somewhere else. I think I can get here to the van, which is about a twenty minute walk to the Metro and a thirty minute train ride. But she tells me she has to be at work soon. She tells me her schedule and we make plans to meet early the next day. We have a little bit of time to spend together still and I walk her to the clock tower and I’m looking for a place we could really do something. I don’t know the area, and there are people absolutely everywhere.

I take her to this slightly sheltered area of the park behind some shrubbery. We make out and I’ve got my hand down her jeans. I’m finger banging her and she’s loving it. She’s stroking my dick and I pull it out for her. I convince her to “kiss it” but she barely puts her lips on it. She keeps looking around and I tell her to close her eyes and enjoy the feeling and I will keep watch on the surrounding. Sure enough, some fucker is watching us. And he’s walking closer. I take my hand out of her pants, put my dick away, and we turn away as he passes. I try to get her worked up again, but now it’s all about how she’s late for work. We laugh together as we walk to the subway. I remind her about our meet in the morning and she vacillates. I know I’ve lost her.

The next time I check my email, it is confirmed:

”I won’t be there tomorrow. I realize that my life needs a plan. In order of importance, Love is in first, followed by Pleasure, and then Sex. Yeah, I just realized that love is in first, even if it brings me expectations. I prefer to dream and to learn from my errors, than not dreaming at all. Life is short, we should follow our dreams, and mine is to do the right things, when I feel it’s the right time to do them. If I want to feel comfortable, even if I do feel comfortable with you, I won’t come tomorrow.”

Friday Girl #2

I was set to meet my second girl at 6PM. This would be our Day3. We met at a bar among her friends and we shared great conversation and an amazing kiss. She’s 20 and studies fashion design. Day2 we walked around the Old Port and the clock tower. I told her that her expectations should be to enjoy the moment and the magic I can provide and that we should not expect any sense of future. She’s cool and tells me that she just ended a relationship and has no expectations, just to have fun and see where things go. I do my sensual qualifying and find her energy to match my own. I also love how she can verbally spar with me and we’re teasing each other seductively. This one is going to be amazing—beautiful Italian baby. After a great time, we both have places to be. Mine is another date, and I’m honest about it. We exchange some more passionate kisses and embraces and then depart. If it didn’t seem solid enough already, she sends me this email:

”Hey, how did your date go? Got home a while ago. Had to take care of some things, now I'm writing to you. Thanks a lot for everything. You really opened my eyes to a lot of things. You really made me see things in a different way. Well, we have to get together again. Maybe Friday. There is this fashion show that my friend is doing the make up for so maybe we could go see if your going to be around and don't have a date that night. Let me know, it would be nice to see you again.”

So, I show up for our second time out. We embrace. We kiss. The physical intimacy is still there. We walk and hold hands and things feel nice. I try to lead her to the lingerie and sex toy shop, but she doesn’t want to go in. Cool, no pressure. I ask about this fashion show and we Metro to the Jean Drapeau Island where it is being held. I was telling her to notice how envious people look when they see us together. Turns out it is $15 per person and we skip it. We hold each other and talk intimately next to a fountain.

The only other thing worth mentioning is that she kept talking about her ex-boyfriend and how this and that reminded her of him. I said something about being in the present and enjoying the opportunities right before us. What is this moment lacking? Nothing. Right answer. I told her I was interested in her role as a beautiful and passionate woman and not a daughter (kept complaining about her parents), a student (school’s about to start), a friend (her friends told her not to see me), an ex-GF (would not shut up about her ex-boyfriend) or anything else. Tried my best to keep her present and positive. I taught her how to give a hand massage and had her demonstrate what she had learned. Also gave each other neck and shoulder massages.

Her mom calls. She lives with her parents. She’s got to go. Not much I can do. I walk her to the Metro. She’s got tears in her eyes and she’s telling me that she can’t be with me and she’s not ready to ‘give herself.’ I’m mostly smiling and respectful. My artistry is intense and I’m not sure what to do in these situations. I told the 100% perfect girl story (credit: Style). She keeps saying, “I can’t, I can’t.” I assuredly tell her that I know what I will be missing…wonderful times with an amazing and passionate woman. And one day she will realize the opportunity she has missed as well. I just hope she’s not plagued by “what ifs” and “could-have-beens.” Like I will be. We hug. I’m out.

Just to make sure I got the message, she sends this email:

”It was a fun night. I'm sorry that I could not give you what you wanted. I was just not able to pass that stage yet. Well, it was great meeting and getting to know you. Good luck in your next adventure and stay in touch.”

Friday Girl #3:

I hit the street for the ongoing FrancoFolies Festival. I’m worked up. I really hated to lose this one. And that’s two solid loses for the day! I’m thinking about the days earlier this week where, when I had flakes, I always ended up pulling same-day. No problem. I hit the festival with the determination of that character in the movie Tomcats where he’s worked up over this chick and he says to himself “I’m going to fuck the next chick I see.” Of course he runs into a warpig and says, “Okay…the NEXT chick I see.”

So here I am. 2sets and 3sets are opening moderately well. I don’t have time left in the city to follow new contact closes. I have this strange sense of urgency. I’m also very tired. I can’t explain this mood and mentality. I’m thinking about how after I pulled 5 girls here, and I had one week left and I told myself that it was going to be my goal to pull 5 more. 5 more in one week. Who can do this? And they all came…one after another. So here I am at ten. Who does this? Got to get out of here…Sunday…Monday at the very latest. I’m thinking about how the SDL with the sexy Mexican girl on Thursday actually fucked up my karma. Like that was ten—okay, goal met—like the universe didn’t want me to have the fire escape girl and the Italian girl too. Even though they probably needed me the most. Just wasn’t meant to be. So here I am with this weird mood and this weird determination and I’m going for number eleven.

And then I see her. Holy shit what a beauty. Another Latina. Long beautiful blackish reddish curlyish hair. Expressive eyes. Incredible figure. She’s wearing this dress with a singular wrap-around image. Very retro. Very go-go. She’s got these badass black boots with zippers all over them. Me likes.

Is she actually alone? Who cares. I approach and I get her smiling. She is alone. The group ends at the stage near us and we head to a different stage. We have engaging conversation and lots of laughs. I keep smiling and throw her a lot of broken Spanish, happy to deviate from all this French. Turns out she is from Chile and she is 26. (I am 26, and the Mexican girl last night was 26—maybe the universe likes me after all.) We go for a walk beyond the festival. Of course St Catherine St on a Friday night is like a festival everywhere.

She actually suggests we get a drink. I take her to the place that HBgraphicartist introduced me to. I ask fun qualifying questions and show her the view from the balcony. I give her a passionate SOI and she’s entranced. I go for the kiss, I get sidestepped and told I’m told she has a boyfriend. Back home. Okay. So did the girl Saturday and persistence paid. I’m also thinking about the Mexican girl from last night where directness paid off more than anything else. I’m thinking I’ve got this one solid. I mean, it’s meant to be—third girl for the night, third time’s the charm, right?

So I sit her down and she orders a beer. She’s a fairly accomplished film student in Santiago. She tells me about her film projects. It sounds like her family has some money too. Miscommunication is prevalent—language barrier. It’s best that she talk and talk and I smile and nod, then I can talk and talk (seductively) and she can smile and nod and bite her lip and blush and think naughty things. And it’s going smoothly. We’re sitting with her knee between mine. I give her the questions of the Sensuality Test. We’re giving each other very nice hand massages and kino is all-around nice. I’m overselling my photography and she’s interested. I tell her that if we can go to my station for a few minutes I’ll show her these cool pictures.

We’re hand in hand, the vibe is great, and I walk her to the Metro and right outside she gets cold feet and she’s reminding me of the boyfriend. I know…lets’ just go look at pictures. Shared false pretense? Just pictures. It will be fun. Actual false pretense? So she’s with me. I give her this incredible head massage for basically the whole train ride. She’s entranced in transit. I tell her that my place is actually a vehicle. She’s intrigued by the idea, as they all have been.

So we get to my van and I tell her that I am going to drive to where I can get a network in order to check my email real quick. She can do so too. No prob. This takes me out of the hotel parking lot and onto a residential street. A little bit of a risk though because the cops have approached me and told me not to return to this street.

Apparently folks had called the cops after noticing that I pull up here day after day. Must look suspicious. The cops approached me I told them about wifi and I was there to check email. They ran some search on my license for like twenty minutes and just told me to find a different connection. Oh well. But anyway, I decided to roll up on this spot again one more time.

So I boot up the computer and give her some printed photos to look at while I check my email. There was no hesitation coming into the back and she’s got her hand on my leg and everything is green lighted. I send her a quick playful email. I offer to let her check her email. I show her some photos on the computer while I play some chill music. She likes. Close computer.

I go for the kiss and I’m in. Very nice. Proceed to kiss neck and ears and arms and legs and touch breasts. She’s not breathing heavy or otherwise getting into it, but not stopping me either. I direct her to kiss my neck and I put her hands on my chest. Kiss my chest, kiss here, bite there, etc. I’m telling her that I want to taste her. I’ve got my hand under her dress and I put her hand on my straining cock…

And that’s about it. She pushes me away. It’s abrupt. All I hear is boyfriend, boyfriend, novio, novio, boyfriend, blah, blah. I try “juicy secret” threads but she’s already locked. Can’t get her back in for anything. Long story short, I respectfully take her home. Keep the ride upbeat and playful for whatever its worth. You know, not being a pouty sore-ass. We smile and kiss when I drop her off. She has my email just in case she has anything to say. Damn.

Three solid losses the same day.

Live loss, love life. GoneSavage