Last week or so I’m sitting in Caffe Nero by Covent Garden reading The Fountainhead. It’s a lovely day but I’m not especially in the mood for game. I get a little distracted watching girls walk by on the streets outside because my daygame is at a point now where I feel bad letting a hot girl walk past me unmolested. I need a piss and go find the toilet.

There’s a cute Turkish Girl sitting in a sofa-chair reading her book just three feet from the toilet queue I’m standing in. I look at her, trying to figure out a situational opener. Her eyes droop a little then she lets out a sigh. Bingo.

Me: Hi. Is that book really so boring?
Her: *smile* Well, sort of.
Me: It’s just that I was standing in the queue for the bathroom when I looked over just as your eyelids were drooping and you let out this massive sigh. What is it *knocks up the book with a finger to see the cover*
Her: *laughs, hooks* It’s blah blah blah
Me: Yeah, boring. I sympathise *brief hand on shoulder*

I’m in set ten minutes and it’s all indirect and comfort. The only two SOIs I give her are that I like her long black hair and also the red accessories she’s matched over her mostly black outfit. No sexual intent displayed at all. I take the number and now the main technical goal is to transition to a man-woman frame. Text game ensues that evening:

Me 5:56pm – You’re from Istanbul, right? [assumed familiarity, dominant and direct but relevant]
Her 6:10pm – Yep [waiting to see what I do]
Me: 6:43pm – Cool [she didn’t give back enough to justify a long mail so one-word-game]

Nothing until two days later when I set up the date

Me 12:50pm – Hey Little Miss Mordor 😉 [I’d had a thread about how JRR Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings about protecting England from the Arabs and that’s why her Turkish name sounds like an Orc leader in the book] I’m gonna be in Covent Garden this afternoon. What are you doing?
Her 1:19pm – Hey i just left covent garden, had some plans with friends today… have a great day x [no counter offer]
Me 8:02pm – Aye [one-word-game and the Roissy way to handle a refused invite]
Her 10:37pm – Is it an irish way? [hmmmm, she is interested]
Me [next day] 2:00pm – Thats almost exactly…. the opposite [playful tease]

A few more texts and two of hers are fishing for me to invite her out again so I do. We meet near Soho and I take her for coffee. The first hour is full of good conversation but she’s cagey about kino for example when I’m crossing my ankle over my knee I let the knee drop to touch her thigh and she waits a few seconds then moves her thigh away. I run my three main routines (i) boxing NLP (ii) kid in church and (iii) Beach walk in Okinawa. All three hit big and she flips into sexual state. Behind us on a sofa is a mid-twenties Italian guy with a petite Italian girl who has unbelievably outsized hooters.

Me: *eyes wandering when target is talking* Sorry. I just have to say… can you keep a secret?
Her: *leans in* yes?
Me: Don’t look now but that Italian couple behind you. She’s totally into him *she was IOIing big time, looked like maybe a third date* She’s a really slim petite girl but she has absoutely massive tits.
Her: *laughs, waits a few seconds then turns around* Yes, she does. I used to know someone at school like that.

It’s raining outside so when I walk her to M&S so I can get a sandwich we share her umbrella and that gets the arm-in-arm and the implicit agreement that this is turning sexual. Then I take her to a quiet pub for more rapport and easy handholding.

Her: This is romantic
Me: What is?
Her: Sitting here, holding hands like this
Me: How about now? *leans in, kiss close*

By the time she goes to work after our two hour date she is completely sold on me. I fuck her a week later on the third date.