Accept No Substitute

So last Saturday I met this chick at a bar through some kind of fashion night where she was hired by her modeling agency to put on a sexy lingerie show or whatever. I wasn't out to game, and was just kicking back with a friend as we drank a decent amount. I didn't even watch her thing.

Later in the night she bumped into me, and our eyes sort of met and I saw hers chasing mine, so I just said hey. We talk for a bit and I say: “What's really cool is the amount of confidence you displayed in front of everyone.” This made the difference, in the sense that I was the chooser and wasn't immediately impressed by her physique or sex appeal. We talked for a bit and our conversation hit on venues in Montreal. Told her I was going to try out this sushi place on Tuesday and invited her to join me. She agreed and that was that.

We meet up. I'm late as usual (15 minutes). We sit down and she just starts talking about herself. In short: she models throughout North America; her dad is a multi-millionaire who owns his own investment advisory firm; she goes out every night and parties with rich people all the time; she's been in the city for only two months but has a huge network and free vip access to more places than I've been to in the last year. She tells me stories of trips she's taken, outrageous things she's done, how her friend picks her up in a hummerzine or whatever.

But there was something fishy. If this girl really is all that, why is she trying to impress me so badly ? Why does this beautiful, smart, successful, well-connected chick want my approval ? Hah … flashbacks to the days when I couldn't realize why girls weren't into me even though I clearly proved to them how awesome I was.

Although some of the facts could have downright intimidated me before, I simply had in my mindset that she was trying really hard to impress me because I'm such a good catch. But I wasn't going to be impressed or awed by her world, let alone envy it as many of the people in her life seemed to.

She tells me stories of millionaire CEOs she hangs out with. I playfully share my own stories of CEOs who can only get laid with prostitutes because they only talk about themselves and expect people to idolize them for the money they have (she agreed).

She tells me how awesome her party life is, how she's out every night. I relate to her, but let her know that the ideal for me is a balanced life, since going out every night makes me feel like a crazy aimless animal (which she immediately relates to).

Even with the many things I couldn't relate to (like her “ongoing music career”), I simply let her stories end without any follow up reaction. She was like a dog that did a cool trick impatiently waiting for a pet from its master. Maybe she got a light smile and comfortable eye-contact, maybe a “that's cool,” but no change in mood or demeanor.

She reminded me of many of my business buddies. I was recently at a cocktail where everyone was out and about showing off their careers, travel experiences, money, etc. Parallel monologues galore. In fact, I remember one of them very clearly ... a guy worth millions. The brief version of his success story was so approval seeking in nature, it made me feel more pity than respect ... but of course I gave him my approval while tactically switching to a conversation about how the cocktails were kinda bland.

I remembered another day 2 I had with a much less successful girl. This one also had a lot of “confidence,” but much less reason to have it. Instead of showing off with my own better stories like I might have before, I just listened to her and just gave her my approval as she was seeking it. That's really all it took.

Finally, this blond model started asking about me. This is funny because my life could very well be interpreted as less cool than hers. But see, while most fields have solid barometers with which we measure value, dating isn't one of them. If you truly feel content with your life, no one can intimidate you. If anyone tries to, it's because they want your approval, plain and simple. And if you think about it, people who are generally considered successful could also been seen as masters of approval seeking. It's a painful picture, but one that really illustrates that the only people who have power over you are the ones you give power to.

It was clear that I wanted nothing from her. She offered to hook me up with her dad, invited me to hot parties with her model friends. Yes, she could have been a good “friend,” but as many of those who have argued with me know: I take no prisoners. It's either sex or you're gone. So instead, I responded to her invitations with an “Eh … maybe …” It seemed to boggle her mind that this poor overworked eastern European didn't jump at the chance to get hooked up with a better scene. But I already made the choice: no woman can improve my life, her only value is sex. Very disheartening to the hopefuls I'm sure …

Unlike her, I wasn't trying to impress her or match her stories ... just share what my life's about playfully, nothing more.

Her attempt to gain power over me left her exposed as the vulnerable person she really is. I moved in with: “So … what's your plan for tonight ?”

She's like “cool.” Five minutes later as I prepare to leave, she adds: “I love champagne,” to which I say: “Yeah, it's the best way to drink … oh you're welcome to join me if you want.” She agrees, but invites me to her place and buys the bottle on the way.

We chill on her rooftop patio admiring the view. And during another one of her DHV tirades which was met with cold silence (that lasted 10 minutes !), she finally puts her hand on my shoulder to get my attention (first contact of the night pretty much). I grab her hand, lift her up and make out with her. The rest writes itself. The cute part was when she played a song for me on her guitar. I left her place without any mention of future plans to see her, which of course has her chasing me now.

Gentlemen, when a woman realizes that the only way she's going to get your attention is through sex, then that's very well what she might just want to end up giving you. This is why I don't believe in girls as friends. Make things crystal fucking clear from the beginning. Accept no substitute.

(Unless the substitute is hot and wants to fuck you.)

Case in point: this girl's body language made her seem untouchable until that moment she gave up trying to impress me with her words, lifestyle, network, whatever ... and finally decided to give me her real assets ... not that I desperately wanted them, either, but more so than the rest of her shit, to be sure.

Recently I had another story. Got this cute brunette over to my house from the bar. Had made no move on her before that. We drink a bit, then head to bed. She spoons me and finally I go for her lips, but she resists: “I am not kissing you and I am not having sex with you.” Now … this is a bit strange, considering she was the one who asked me what I was doing later on and agreed to come over to my place at 3 AM. So of course, this was token resistance in my mind. But further insistence was met with a very unsavory sounding “Please just stop.” So of course at this point I have no choice but to politely ask her to leave. I am not sleeping next to someone as consolation prize for not fucking them. Sure I could have played the waiting game, went on one, two, three or god knows how many dates before sexing her. But what kind of pathetic desperate loser would I be then ? Fucking pathetic. The chances of major disappointment are way too high to put in so much commitment, and the signals are already very bad. (Not even a kiss ? Give me a break.)

At first she's shocked, tries to play nice. I'm gentle but firm. When she realizes that she won't get what she wants, she freaks the fuck out. She tells me she has no money for a cab: shoulda thought of that one before coming here. She says it's 4 AM and it's raining: I'm sorry but too bad. So finally, she makes a small storm in my house, knocks over the champagne bottle and leaves her shoes behind. Yes: Miss Princess actually left my place in the rain at 4 AM barefoot !

Like I said to a friend … sometimes you get laid … sometimes you get shoes …

And honestly, I much prefer cleaning up her mess and throwing out her shoes to accepting the frame she was trying to impose on me. Like I'm another candidate to be one of her orbiters. Man, fuck that.