I’m walking past the theatre on Sunday evening in Prague, just around the corner from Palladium mall. A solo vulnerable-looking girl walks past so I open, hook and run my usual banter. Just another set in a holiday full of them. One thing that stands out in my memory is this conversation. It’s not verbatim, but as close as I can remember it.
Me: What do you do in life? What’s your thing?
Her: I work for an NGO. We help transitional countries become more democratic.
Me: I have no idea what a transitional country is.
Her: It means countries outside the First World which are maybe moving from a dictatorship. Places like Georgia, Albania. We are a European Commission NGO and we advise and coordinate with other locally-based NGOs to help them become more democratic.
I almost threw up into my mouth. An insiduous make-work programe for women to interfere in other countries on the tax-payer’s dime at the behest of the ((globalist elite)). I temporarily forgot I was trying to fuck her.
Me: Hang on a minute. Let me get this straight in my head. I’m no expert on NGOs but am I right that you’re telling me…. The European Commission, that is the European Union – the most anti-democratic and tyrannical organisation in all of Europe – has the audacity to tell other countries how to do democracy. The same EU that conducted coup d’etats in Italy and Ukraine? That’s sounds a bit rich.
Her: Umm…. well….
At this point I thought the conversational might get more confrontational than is conducive to seduction, so I changed tack.
Me: Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a democrat. I much prefer dictatorship, so long as I’m the dictator. In fact, I think I’d really enjoy being a dictator. Once I’m King of the World do you know the first edict I’ll issue?
Her: Umm…. what?
Me: I’ll make it illegal to wear silly pink hats [tug at her silly pink hat]. That will carry a sentence of twenty years’ hard labour. Yes, that’s right. The secret police will come for you and march you off. To the gulag with you!
Her: *giggles etc*
Me: Second thing I’ll do is have statues of myself in every town square, like Saddam Hussein. I’ll fill my garage with Italian sports cars and have a swimming pool of champagne. Everything in my palace will be gold. I’d be a good dictator. The best.
Unfortunately she lived with her boyfriend. Still, it’s always fun to spin out fantastical stories on the fly.
April 25, 2016 at 4:22 pm
Ha! Good one… I live in Argentina and, believe it or not, sometimes I have to put up with shit much worse than that when chatting up women. You can get nauseous at discovering how discouragingly ignorant, irrational and aggressive a lot of women can get when arguing a point. But then again, that’s just their nature and one should learn how to deal with it. What I do is simply disengage from any “deep and/or controversial” topic, even though sometimes – but not too often – they just won’t drop it. In that case, I simply stare at them with vacuum eyes and let them rant on until they run out of steam and I get a chance to turn the course of the conversation towards bedding them. If I’m in a bad mood, not that horny and not willing to put up with such a load of shit, then I say to myself “fuck it” and simply walk. I’m really not interested in women’s opinions on pretty much anything, although I do try to connect with them on a personal level (it’s hard, though… I’m not really empathetic). I am only inspired by highly intellectual, factual, magical-thinking-free discourse, and that’s something that most women simply can’t provide. So it’s a sort of dilemma… and a “dark” feature of game, I guess – as Roosh states in one of his blogs: this disjunctive between respecting women (as in admiring them) and actually trying to seduce them. I often find that, the more interests I share with them, the least likely it is that I desire to fuck them. Fortunately, I don’t admire many women.
April 26, 2016 at 2:42 pm
Great comment. Over the long years I’ve also given up on wasting energy trying to pound nails into stones. Well, not entirely, and so I still get sucked in to being frustrated. But ya, the few women that are good at conversation are usually not the same few women who are hot.
April 27, 2016 at 3:12 am
I love the dictator routine; thank you. It’s fun, easy to riff on, easy to fit into unrelated conversations. It doesn’t require memorizing anything, because it’s so easy to make up appropriate stuff on the fly. Best of all, it comes from the right frame. Consider it stolen.