20th August 2009 finds me meeting a couple of guys over at Nandos on the South Bank. DiCipher is there and two others I’ve never met. We amble along towards Embankment.

I get off to a good start by stopping a fast-charging HB7 Brit with iPod on. I indicate her to pull out the headphones and we chat a few minutes. I end up with the BF defense and don’t close. Next is another difficult stop – a fast-charging HB7 Tall Blonde. She doesn’t stop and I realise my body language was too defensive. Next an HB7 Brunette saunters past texting on her iPhone. She reacts well but shows me her wedding ring, which had been hidden due to her hand positioning.

I’m a bit deflated. I’ve been asking DiChiper what I should do to turn instant dates into day 2s. Sagely he notes that I have been raising the girls’ buying temperatures ok but not giving them any of my identity. They are waking up the next day without any reason to distinguish me from the other 100 men who want to fuck them. Ok, next instant date I shall offer identity…..

As we get to Embankment footbridge I think, ok one more set. A cute HB8 Russian ambles past. I like her reddish dyed hair and something about her manner. She seems smiley and happy in the world. She opens easy and I try to pull her in a bit:

Krauser: What’s that you’re listening to *indicating iPod*
HB8: blah blah…. some dance shite
Krauser: Gimmee a listen *grab headphone, pull her in so I can fit it to my ear*
Krauser: Oh, that’s crap *gives back headphone* Come on, let’s get some ice cream

I lead her along the riverside and we stop to eat ice cream from a van. She’s mildy shit testing me now, mainly by appearing unresponsive. After about fifteen minutes I walk her to a pub and we get a drink. Instant date. Ok, remember identity….

I give her my Tokyo DHV story about the fashion party, an identity response to her asking about my job, and adapt the rollercoaster NLP routine to be about boxing so I can raise her buying temp while also talking passionately about my hobby. It all works a treat. Two hours after the meet it’s getting dark and we separate. Minor shit test on the number close

HB8: Do you remember my name?
Krauser: No, it was the third thing you told me. I was still looking at your smile
HB8: It’s xxxxxx
Krauser: You remember mine?
HB8: No *laughs*
Krauser: It’s Krauser. OK, how do I spell xxxxxx *pulls out phone*
midway through her surname spelling she says….
HB8: I’m not giving you my number. You can give me yours.
Krauser: Oh! You’re one of those girls aren’t you. One of those who collects men’s numbers so they feel good about themselves.
HB8: *embarassed*
Krauser: Here, gimmee your phone *types in own number, rings it, and gets her number that way*

A hug but no k-close. This is a Thursday. On Saturday I call and we set up a day 2 for Sunday lunch time. I strongly lead the whole thing. We meet at Trafalgar square and I introduce sex talk in the National Gallery by commenting on the more suggestive pictures. She’s laughing and skipping and having a great time.

I walk her down to Embankment park to sit on the grass with a coffee. She looks at me and says:

HB8: Those stories you were telling me on Thursday. Do you tell them alot? They seemed so smooth.
Krauser: Of course I do. They’re great stories. I must’ve told that one about the kickboxing match to everybody in my work and family.
HB8: Krauser, I feel like I’ve known you for years
Krauser: Sometimes it happens. You meet someone and there’s an instant connection.

K-closing is a major sticking point for me and I still fail to do it on this date. After two hours or so we seperate and I head off to meet my wings for more day game. I’m really getting this rapport thing going.

August 18th, 2009. Day game on Oxford Street leads to three nice number closes as I was trying to work on my leading.

HB8 Italian model
My standard opener, I jump in front of her and go direct saying she’s gorgeous and asking about something on her outfit (she had a purple hairband, purple laces in her converse, and a purple belt in her hot pants). We are standing by the traffic lights just fluffing but it’s a burning hot day and we are right in the sun. So I move her across the road into the shade and lock in to a lampost. She gets out her water bottle to sip:

Krauser: Here, gimmee a drink of that
* she hands it over, I take a gulp *
Krauser: That’s warm. C’mon we’re going to Boots. I wanna get some juice
* elbow lead her away *

She’s given me a time constraint of meeting some old friend in 20 minutes to go get her tongue pierced. She tells me she’s in London for 3 days for a photo shoot and travels alot around Europe for her shoots. I work some light kino, move her around a bit, and get an easy number close and a hug. 20 minutes in set. I later find her on google:

http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/3113/hb8italianmodel.jpg

HB7 SanFran Media Girl
Normal opener, in a quiet square behind Piccadilly. Two minutes in I lock in against a telephone box and her body language follows me. Lots of mirroring and questions about me. She gives a time constraint:

Krauser: What brings you out today?
HB7: I’m meeting a few friends in Carnaby Street
Krauser: Soon?
HB7: Yeah, I’m already late.

We chat another couple of minutes and I try to pre-empt her by saying “C’mon let’s go this way” and lead her where she was gonna go anyway. She more or less thrusts her business card onto me (with her mobile on it) and says she’ll be in Sweden a couple of days for work but back later in the week. 15 minutes in set. I find her on Facebook:

http://img134.imageshack.us/img134/5663/hb7sanfran.jpg

HB7 Japanese student
I’m sitting in Pret at Covent Garden twenty minutes later with my two wings. I see an Asian girl at the traffic island outside, looking like she’s trying to figure out where to go. Standard opener, softened a bit cos she looks a little timid. A couple of minutes fluffing standing in the traffic island. She likes kickboxing and we talk about our favourite fighters, I get to DHV about my training and the fight shows I saw, and speak some Japanese.

http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/7510/hb7japan.jpg

Krauser: I’m thirsty. We’re getting coffee *points to Cafe Nero across the road and elbow leads*
HB7: Un. [yeah]

I take her order and send her upstairs to score a seat. 20 minutes chatting, making her qualify. Then I take her to the market to help me gift-shop for my nephew, then down to Embankment to lie in the park. I keep moving her around, like when we get to the end of the street I grab both shoulders to point her in the right direction and then give a playful shove in her back, when she’s walking on the traffic side of the pavement I put my hand on her hip and push her across to the “safe” side saying [Tarzan style] “That side dangerous. This side safe”. Stuff like that.

Krauser: Are you a good cook?
HB7: Yes
Krauser: Good. I like a girl who can cook. It shows creativity.
HB7: I used to cook for my family alot
Krauser: If we have that picnic at Primrose Hill, what are you gonna cook me?
HB7: [thinks and lists some possible dishes]

Its a two-hour instant date but she’s meeting friends for dinner so I send her on her way.

Lessons learned
First time I’ve actively tried dumbass leading [i.e. little things with no real purpose], moving girls around even if it’s just across the road, and trying to bounce several locations to get the time-distortion. I’m quite amazed how compliant they are. Not a single lead failed.

Follow-up
Ok, my big sticking point is endgame and day 2s. Italian HB8: I wonder what’s happened here. I’d seeded the idea of getting ice cream at 31s and she seemed agreeable. I call her the next day on her business mobile (she also gave her private number):

HB8: *unintelligible Italian – maybe hello, maybe not*
Krauser: Hey, it’s Krauser. What you up to?
* click *

What’s that about? Shit-test / brush-off / working & can’t take call ?Seemed fairly solid yesterday so I wasn’t expecting it. I wait ten minutes in case it was something dumb, but she doesn’t call back so I text “Hey, it’s rude to hang up like that”Assuming I hear nothing back, and she’s only here 3 days, I think that’s it. Next.

This is actually more about the power of beauty to unseat you. August 12, 2009

The sarge
I was having a coffee with a colleague this lunch time up near St Pauls. A girl walks past with a guy, hard to tell if they are together or just workmates. Both dressed casual business, laughing a bit, around the same age (he looks 23 or so, her 19) but no touching and a polite “friend” distance between them. She is absolutely my perfect image of a 10. Even guys who don’t like her style would put her an objective 9 I think.

About 5’8″, dark brown wavy hair, Italian-looking features, hourglass figure, mid-size breasts, long legs, and total air of elegance.

Ten minutes later she comes back the same way, alone. So I think “f*** it, I’m going” and off I run. I didn’t really have time to think of limiting beliefs [ah, bless the 3-second rule!] but subconsciously I must’ve been thinking “no way will this girl even stop”. I jump in front of her and open, with a big cheesy grin. She kind of stops but keeps a little momentum to walk past, like she’s 50/50 on what to do. I step to the side and cut her off [thanks to Snakeskin for that refinement on the Sunday toast]. She stops, smiles, we talk.

She locks us in to a nearby pillar, stepping out of the middle of the pavement. She’s not giving any textbook IOIs but I hear 10s rarely do. She’s not giving any IODs and is not bodyrocking. We chat. She’s in law, going back to Uni soon. I try something D.Cipher told me on the Sunday toast:

Krauser: I like your coordination. That dress is funny. It’s got the whole grey formal business thing going on, but it’s also got some casual elegance about it. [it really was a distinctive dress]
HB10: *smiles*
Krauser: And it’s all coordinating with the shoes and your hair. Why’d you choose it?
HB10: Blah blah blah agreeing.

Top drawer

She asks what I do (IOI, yes?) so I give her my identity statement which includes oblique reference to lots of international travel, which draws her question of where I’ve been.

Krauser: In March I was in Tokyo
HB10: I’m hoping to go to Singapore later this year. It’s not confirmed yet [is she qualifying herself here?]
Krauser: I’ll tell you something about going to Asia. Strange things happen to you, just because you’re foreign. I lived in Japan five years…
HB10: *interrupts* You speak Japanese?
Krauser: Hai, demo honno sukoshi desu. Ato de, ninhongo shabete mite ne?
HB10: *smile*
Krauser: You’ve seen Lost in Translation? * launches into Tokyo DHV story *

At the end of the story, about 8 minutes into set, she looks at her phone and apologies, saying she really has to go. I do a weak close:

Krauser: You on Facebook?
HB10: Yeah, but it’s not very good is it? Have you got a card?
Krauser: Ok, gimme your number then
HB10: I can’t. I’m with someone.
Krauser: * gets out phone * Email then

She spells it out, I make a couple of input errors which she corrects, we shake hands and bye.

The analysis
The biggest thing through this whole sarge was how completely thrown off I was by her beauty. I was looking at her thinking “This can’t possibly be happening. Why on earth has she stopped? How come she’s not trying to escape?”. I’ve never had that before when sarging 7s, 8s and the occasional 9.

I had to really force myself to hold strong eye contact because my natural inclination was to look down and mutter “I’m not worthy”. I was aware I was speaking quickly and had to slow down. I had to restrain myself from rapport laughter. When I gave my identity statement I had some ums and ahs in it even though it’s a learned statement. I swear if at any point I’d had to do some real thinking my brain would’ve just exploded.

Fortunately I think I avoided saying anything dumb, my body language and eye contact were fine, and it was all just “ducking syndrome” (like when a duck moves gracefull along the pond but under water you can’t see it’s feet thrashing around).

But my biggest takeaway is the wildly disorienting effect of talking to an abnormally beautiful women and how easy it is to just bow down and be a chode. I sent her an email half an hour later. No response yet, but no delivery failure error message either. Wait and see. I suspect I DLV’d my way out of a Day 2 but I’m still chalking this as a victory in my onward march to PUA glory.

August 7th, night game at Cargo in Old Street. I’ve always liked this bar because it’s got a beer garden, normal bar, and a dance floor room. Three good environments and it also gets the early-20s slightly alternative chicks I like. I head off with two friends.

I start with HB 8 Brunette and HB6 Sister standing in the bar. I do my superpower indirect opener and hook easy. I give them Style’s best friend test and generally banter for five minutes. I eject expecting to reopen later. Bad idea, as they have left by then.

Next there’s HB 7 Petite sitting on the garden wall with friend and a beta male. It’s a more challenging open because they are seated low down and I don’t want to peck. The target is furthest away and it’s logistically tough to get close. I find a pretext to sit next to her (moving her bag and pushing her along in a minor dominance show) and hold for ten minutes before the Ugly Best Friend takes them off to see the band playing in the dance room. Should’ve befriended the obstacle more, but I figure I can reopen.

I try to find the first set but they have been replaced by two young Somalis HB7 Wild and HB6 Sensible. They look young enough that I wonder if they are legal. I superpower open and hook easy, taking care to befriend the obstacle. I eject, then reopen twenty minutes later. I sit at a table outside as my wing does a great job of handling the obstacle. There’s a comfortable vibe and all my DHVs and routines are sticking. I escalate but slower than I ought to. About two hours in I realise I should bounce so I take them across the road to another bar.

My wing gets HB6 Sensible playing pool. Earlier she’d said “Krauser, you’re a cool guy” so I figure there’ll be no cockblocking. I isolate HB7 Wild and start raising her buying temperature. Then I go for a kiss close, asking her to rate herself as a kisser. Easy close and I neg a bit saying it’s a five, so she tries harder and I score her a seven, and the third one is a tempestous snog with her climbing all over me. Nice. As the pubs chuck out I number close.

The next night is so-so in Jewel. I open four sets, the first of which is an HB6 Chinese who gives me a smiling approach invitation and I number close. Struggling to keep state though.

August 9, 2009. A couple of experienced guys from the LSS have started a weekly day game in-field round Oxford Street. The idea is that noobs like me turn up and the guys get to practice their teaching skills by taking us around. Win-win. I do it.

It starts a bit funny. We are to meet on Argyll Street opposite Top Man at 1pm. I’m there a bit early and don’t really know who is who. I don’t want to just talk to random dudes waiting around so I figure I’ll hang back until I think I can spot a PUA.

As I’m doing this, HB8 Teen walks past. Dyed-red hair, slim, youthful and great curves wrapped in a tight black t-shirt and cut off blue denium shorts. I approach, she stops, easy hook. As I’m midway through the sarge she mentions she’s 16. That totally throws me cos I can’t remember the age of consent in the UK. I’m also getting visions of an angry dad chasing me with a hammer. I stammer something, but still get the number close. As I exit the set I realise a group of PUAs has now gathered, and they’re watching me. Nice way to be introduced to the LSS.

http://img222.imageshack.us/img222/1815/hb8teen.jpg

The main dude is cool. A bit older than me and a textbook example of how to look smart, confident and lively while approaching middle age. It’s easy to imagine him closing young chicks. He’s got a helper with him who I later find out has deliberately dressed in lounge gear to prove a point that it can be done without dressing up. We start prowling Oxford Street.

I do another ten or so sets with middling success and no closes. It’s fun and I get lots of pointers. These include:

• Coming out of a failed set I’m visibly disappointed. I need to remember that a girl’s response should never dictate my state;
• I get blown out of one set immediately. Feedback is that I had outcome dependency written all over my face. Control this in future;
• I fail to stop a fast walking girl. When I jumped across I had subtely defensive body language saying “please don’t hit me” rather than “hey, stop”;
• One girl literally screams in surprise when I open, causing everyone in earshot to look at me. I calm her easily and spend a couple of minutes in set. Fun. I learn both to ensure I’m in her peripheral vision before jumping next time, and that its possible to recover after such a shocking start;
• I watch one guy open and the girl side steps him. So he steps across and cuts her off. She stops. He closes. Nice dominance show with the step across. This is now incorporated.

I also meet a few guys who I figure I can wing with. Two of ’em I end up day gaming with alot over the following weeks. A great day out. Most of the feedback was micro-adjustments, which I’m using to subtley tweak my basic opener.

Sarging is about freedom. As Milton Friedman would put it, the freedom to choose. I don’t want to be the guy who relies on social circle. I don’t want to be the guy who relies on being in that one club where he tips the barmen and orders enough champagne that they DHV you.

I want to be able to go to any place in the world, alone, and close.

A lofty goal and it begins in Edinburgh as I’m on a business trip with two colleagues. We don’t really get out much at night but we are based dead central by Princes Street and the hotel is just round the corner. So sarging is for lunch time and immediately after work. The following happen from 22nd to 29th July

Walking back from dinner I see HB7 Scot as she crosses the street by Pizza Hut. Normal open and leads to number close as a workmate looks on. Most notable is I add some identity to the vibing, telling her my identity statement (i.e. not just “I am my job“) and embellish it with a story on how I wanted to be a swordfighter as a kid.

Lunchtime the next day I see HB8 Lithuanian ambling past Debenhams. I number close and she let’s slip this little nugget:

Krauser: How do you like to spend your time?
HB8: I’m running a small business right now, selling soap in a market stall
Krauser: Your English is excellent seeing as you’ve only been here eight months.
HB8: Actually when I first came I worked in a club where I had to talk to customers in English all night.

Adding this to her height, nationality, mannerism, and curves it means ding! dong! I number closed my first stripper!!!!! Sweet. A few texts follow but she has a BF and it fizzles to nothing.

Last memorable sarge is in my second week there. I’ve been given advice that the way to reduce flakes is to go for the instant date. Heading back from work on Wednesday evening my two colleagues are goading me with chants of “day game day game” whenever any girl appears. Finally an HB 8 Brazilian materialises walking towards me. She’s 20. And curvy. I open.

She’s very pleasant and it’s an easy hook. I lock in to the wall and after ten minutes bounce her to the All Bar One round the corner. It’s mostly vibing but I work in a few DHV stories and try an NLP routine (the rollercoaster) to raise her buying temperature. It’s going great. My colleagues are camped out at a table behind us, watching.

She mentions needing to go home for dinner but bounces easily to the hotel bar. My colleagues are blown away, thinking she’s headed for my room. Another drink in the bar and I’m escalating kino and do the Cube. She rates it 8/10 for accuracy. I’m wanting to k-close but there’s tonnes of people around and I chode out. Nonetheless I think this has eventual f-close written all over it.

Then her mum rings and tells her to come home from dinner. Cock blocked. Bah!
We exchange numbers but its a flake after that and I return to London two days later.

As an aside, I’m starting to note something Tyler Durden mentioned in a DVD – I’ve reached a level where my friends think I’m awesome cos I can walk up to girls, entertain them, number close and instant date. But I’m not getting laid so its frustrating as hell.

While in Edinburgh I Facebook chat the HB7 Spaniard from Liverpool street and arrange a Day 2

Armed with my new day game magic bullet I start some fairly consistent sarging. I open the same each time. Here’s how it works out.

July 12th, Covent Garden
I’m wandering round the indoor market when HB9 Italian goes by. I open, she stops. She’s really smiley and nice – a pleasure to talk to. I lock in to the railings and lean back. Five minutes or so in set and I try the number close. No, on her way to meet the BF.

Next I’m walking down Longacre towards Leicester Square. HB9 Italian (different girl) is meandering the other way. Not that I know it then, but a slow aimlessly walking girl is a far better bet for an instant date and f-close. I run across the road to her and open. Hooks easy, I lock in to the Next shop window. Ten minutes chat, I get to run my Milan DHV story etc. I number close but she mentions a BF.

Just as I’m walking off some guy approaches: “Excuse mate. This might sound a bit weird, but are you day gaming?” So we end up doing winging for an hour. I open three more sets but can’t hook.

July 13th, St Pauls
I’m having lunch with a friend, telling him about my new opener. He’s asking what it is, I see a HB7 French and say “watch”. Bamn! Email close.

July 14th, St Pauls
Same friend, same place. HB8 Hong Kong walks across my kill zone. Number close in the middle of Paternoster Square. She’s super hot and a lovely manner, very much taken aback by the approach. We swap texts for a couple of days before she mentions a BF and an intention to LJBF me. I sign off with

“So you’ve got a BF? Hey, I don’t need to know about your problems 🙂 OK, stay in touch and I’ll let you know when I’ve got stuff going on that you’ll like.”

http://img196.imageshack.us/img196/9117/hb8hongkong.jpg

That turns out to be a wise move, as I find out six weeks later. I also try sarging an HB8 Greek who turns out to be married.

July 15th, St Pauls
I’m getting rather carried away with this lunchtime sarging and I see a fit looking HB8. As I rush off to open my friend says “I think I’ve seen her before”. Indeed he had. She’s the HB8 married girl from yesterday and she’s not impressed with hearing the same opener two days in a row. Pretty embarassing to do that in front of a hundred people eating lunch. To her credit she doesn’t make a scene.

July 16th, Liverpool Street
I’ve met a wing through a forum and I open six sets after work as everyone is milling around the station. The first three hook and I get number closes from HB6 Indian and HB7 Spaniard. The latter is 20yr old, which I like. I really mess up the close with the Indian though cos I close by putting my number in her phone and then ringing it, to pick up her number through caller ID. Except she’s got privacy settings so I don’t get it. Not deliberate either, because she definitely wanted to see me again.