She Found Makeup

I opened a girl on the escalator in the tube station. Ethnicity-wise she was mixed: again, I love London and its diversity. She was born in a North-European country whose language is one of the least sexy in the world, and obviously I teased her on this topic. Strangely enough her accent in English sounded sexy though. The conversation was short since we were taking opposite directions but I suggested we exchange contacts and have a catch up another time. She gave the standard “let me just take your number instead”, to which I replied my usual “I take your number, I send you one text, reply if you want to see me again, otherwise no problem, I am too lazy to chase”. So she gave me her number and we said goodbye. I thought it was more likely to flake but who knew?

Talking about her looks, when he saw her pic Matt summarised it in this way: “she is a mixed-race version of Scarlett Johansson”, just taller. I remember on the second date as we sat down in a place I know, the Italian waitress whispered to my ears Mamma Mia bellissima la ragazza.

She quickly replied to my first text. We chatted a bit, the main topic being the escalator where we met which was the longest in Europe: the infamous Angel station escalator, perfect for daygame sets! She wanted to call me to talk a bit. I was not used to talking to a girl on the phone before planning a first date but I thought it was quite understandable as we met only a few minutes and I could understand she needed that to build trust. We had a light and relaxed discussion. She wanted to test me to find out if I was more of a boyfriend or lover type and I did not clearly reply, which was a mistake. She was hot and I played it safe. Not good. Long story short she asked if I was seeing myself married with kids later. I knew I had no interest for this way of life but I replied a bland and coward “yeah maybe I never really make plans when I meet a girl, I just go with the flow”.

The first date was cool, I gave her a quick kiss on the lips in the first venue as I came back from the toilets (I’m a romantic like that [fans of romance, good evening!]). A few minutes later, I thought “hey let’s try that move Todd Valentine was describing in one of his videos”. Let me try and describe: if the girl is facing you, with the table between you and her, i.e. not ideal for kino, you stand up, look straight in her eyes, smirk and come closer, full of confidence then you kiss her. And this was exactly what I did... hmm, well, except one small detail: she rejected the kiss and teased me on the fact I was extremely presumptuous. Can you imagine the scene: a guy stands up, in a “look at me I am such a charmer” mode, goes to kiss the girl, who makes him “kiss the wind” instead. It made me look a bit silly, but more than anything it made me laugh at myself, which is a great feeling too. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

In the second venue, she was very sweet in my arms, letting me kiss her neck, but still not making out. At some point I called it a night and since she came with her car she suggested to drive me back home. She was driving with one hand, the other hand being on my knees, I thought “well, cool!”. The car stopped in front of my place, I tried one last time to give a goodbye kiss and we finally made out during a few minutes, before she pulled me back and said with half a smile (a bit like when parents see their kid doing something naughty and tell him off while finding it funny at the same time): ”Look at you, you’re happy now, you had what you wanted, God you’re so forward”. It was a textbook case of battle between the emotional part of her brain versus the logical part. The former taking over for a few minutes, before the latter eventually brought things back to normal.

The next few days we texted and she said she would like to see me again but to know me “beyond the physical”. Et voila: I must have sent mixed lover/boyfriendsignals. I suggested a second date twice but she kept changing topic. The texting wasn’t going anywhere, at least that’s how I felt, although that might have been her way to rebuild trust.

Christmas arrived. A few days after Christmas I was having a nice family time in France, chilling on the sofa after a huge meal with champagne and wine. I got impatient and I sent a pathetic “hit or miss” text: “I decided to move on as the process was too slow, which made me lose the attraction”. She responded straight away: “Breaking up at Christmas time, may good karma be with you”.

I feel silly just writing this, such an idiot. She was holding the frame and was way smarter than me. I was still a bit surprised by the word “breaking up” as I never considered myself as a potential boyfriend. This confirmed she had “boyfriend-zoned” me. I was unclear, she was clear. We went on texting a bit and she made it clear she wanted to go slow and know me more and that I ruined it by being too direct. I did exactly what you should not do: be half a gangster instead of going full-onlover mode, and you know why? Because she was hot and I got needy. She was holding the frame and I was not, she was clear and I was not, she was the prize and I was the puppy.

When I got back to London in January, I sent her a light text. No need to be dramatic.

We agreed to meet again so I organised a push date. This meant I would see her, take her to cool places in my area where I know people, do a bit of social proof, have a nice time without trying to kiss her.

The date was nice, we enjoyed each other’s company. As I discovered her birthday happened over Christmas, I popped in a supermarket, bought a birthday card and wrote “Happy birthday from the French idiot!”.

As I was about to give the card and say goodbye, she suggested to go have a tea in a coffee shop nearby. I gave her the card which made her happy. Again, I like letting go and show good intentions, there is no point always playing the wannabe bad-boy tough guy made of sugar, at all costs in all situations. Sure the card made me look like a nice guy, and so what? I am still a nice guy anyway, just a bit cheekier and less needy (I actually am in this story) than the usual nice guy maybe. The birthday card was just a spontaneous move to give joy to someone, I absolutely did not care at this time if it was fitting in the framework of the daygamer who tries to optimise everything. Moreover, among the principles of influence described by Cialdini -which from what I understand inspired Mystery and the London Daygame Model in general- you find the principle of “likeability”: being nice with someone you want to seduce is not a bad thing.

She came to have dinner at my place a few days later. I gave her space and did not try to kiss her straight away. The atmosphere was relaxed, she played with my electronic drums as I was cooking. I was definitely enjoying her company. And then there was a twist: she discovered the makeup left there by that other mixed girl I was dating and who was regularly spending nights at my place (yes I love mixed girls).

She called it out: “I did not know you were wearing makeup”.

So I told the truth about this makeup belonging to another girl, without giving more details. She answered: “That’s a makeup for girls who are my type, that’s a shame I thought I was special to you.” I did not try to justify myself and changed topic.

We had diner and I started preparing my infamous chocolate lava cake the mi-cuit au chocolat. I put it in the oven for fifteen minutes, and this is where she said those magical words: “what about making out in the meantime?”. Those moments when I make out with a girl I find really hot, when part of me thinks “hell yeah I love my life”, when I remember the instant I saw her for the first time and hesitated to talk to her and when I think “here I am, at home with her, it was worth daring.”

That same evening she told me a bit more about her background: she spent time with VIPs in her native country and broke the heart of a semi-celebrity. She did not bring it up to brag: it came up in the conversation when I mentioned an artist from her country I like, whom this guy happened to have dated. It felt strange because I could see that guy was a male model looking way more attractive than me. Even if I am clearly narcissistic, part of me was thinking “what the hell does she find attractive in me when she can have this guy?”. Of course we all know there are many ways to be attractive to girls apart from being a male model.

In bed under the blanket, she said “I am still trying to figure you out, still not sure you are a good boy...”. I did not react. We spent the night together, we kissed with wandering hands but she did not let me go any further.

I thought I would try again in the morning. I did my usual trick when a girl stays for the night: I woke up for a wee and started brushing my teeth, as discreetly as an electric toothbrush allows you. I guess I am bit annoying with this detail but having a good breath is crucial. Usually it happens like that: I would start kissing the girl in the morning, she would smell the toothpaste and get up to do the same. After that we would start the fun. I do realise how annoying that sounds, but for me a bad breath is a real turn-off. There were girls I decided not to meet again just because of that.

I went back to bed and started to wake her up. We chatted for a few minutes under the blanket and she said: “wait, what time is it? What is the deadline for the car park?”. We had a look at the window and the agent was already there, ready to give her a fine (they can be very quick in London, if the deadline is 10am and it is 10h01, you’re pretty much fined already). She put on her clothes, including my pyjama top to avoid getting cold, gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and ran downstairs to talk to the agent. It literally ruined this moment in the morning when you start getting close under the blanket with the potential sex that ends it.

Some daygamers would say I had blue balls. As always I would have loved to go further but honestly, I enjoyed spending the night with her anyway. When I find a girl who is really my type, I am already having a great time simply making out and feeling her great body under my hands. Then of course sex would be great, but patience is a virtue.

Later we texted again but it was hard to plan another date, so I got bored and focused on my other leads. On Valentine’s day, before a first date that went really well with a girl I met a few days before, she texted me: “Happy Valentine, hope you find a lot of love”. Knowing the context it sounded like she regretted the fact I did not give any news and that I still did not get it.

One year later, I went to a restaurant for a take away, and saw the waiter bringing a birthday cake to a table of joyful people. So I spontaneously said “Happy Birthday!” as I walked in and this is when I saw her at the table. She welcomed me, and introduced me to her friend who kindly asked if I wanted a piece of cake. I cheekily asked her, maybe a bit too loud, where my pyjama top was, she generously replied “have this piece of cake, it’s really good.” We chatted a bit, agreed to meet again, and I had my chicken katsu curry take away.

We texted a bit and she finally explained “I am fed up with guys, they are tiring me, I know you are a great guy, I talk about you often to my friends, but right now I don’t want anything.”

Let’s be lucid, “great guy, talking to my friends about you” is not a good sign, it is not even a compliment, it just means it is a dead lead, best case scenario it means we are now in the friend zone or a “potential boyfriend needing patience” zone.

Again, I enjoyed dating this girl a lot. I regret I wasn’t clear about my intentions and I regret that I did not give her much attention after the second date, but voila, yet another story where I did not hold the frame, where I generally messed up but still did this one thing which makes my life way more fun: I gave a compliment to a hot girl during the day.