#72: A Little Less Sixteen Candles

It’s a new Daygame year, as far as my records are concerned that is, and what’s better than getting started with an easy lay? Penelope was 23 years old, tall, shoulder length hair and an average build. A seven. Maybe if she got as thin as she could while still looking good she could be an eight, but she’s not.

Now this lay didn’t happen in the regular way because the set happened, wait for it, all the way back in March 2019! What I do remember is this: it was an overcast day and I’d opened her in Covent Garden and that I was quite cocky in-set, moreso than I usually am. She seemed to like it a lot and encouraged it with little comments and laughing at the right moments. My calibration told me that she enjoyed more of the overt alpha dominance rather than a softer, boil the frog approach.

I went to number close thinking that it was going to be a strong lead but she said she had a boyfriend. Drat. She wouldn’t give up her number even with all my suggestive eyebrow wigglings either. She had this look in her eyes, though, which told me she was really enjoying herself and so I forced her Instagram out of her just in case.

I sent out my feeler like normal, and she did reply, but I sensed she wasn’t going to come out and so I let the lead die. We actually walked past each other a few weeks later in Covent Garden and she pointed me out to her friend – they both smirked and eyed me up – but I didn’t follow up. I wondered whether I should have. After the lay I asked her whether she would have met up with me while still with her boyfriend and she said no. Now, there’s no certainty there, I admit, I only followed my calibration at the time that nothing was going to happen. I don’t want to be chasing dead leads.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago and Penelope followed me out of the blue. She’d unfollowed me after we’d messaged before – I found out her boyfriend had read the messages and she’d pretended that it was purely platonic – which piqued my interest. Girls never just randomly get in contact with you after such a long time. So I sent her the obligatory message so she wouldn’t have to message first and she literally asked herself out in her response. Needless to say getting her number at this point was a doddle.

We messaged a bit and I worked on a few themes: showing her I didn’t judge women who wanted to have fun because of a societal double standard; belittling the provider/romantic frame; and in general using phrases like “naughty” and “behaviour”.

I decided not to message apart from the initial exchange and setting up the date. I figured that it had been so long since we met that she didn’t need me to fill the gaps with comfort. I also figured that she’d enjoyed my “ballsy” approach (in her own words) and so used some cliche Game/sales tactics like assuming the sale. In general I don’t like working from the “play or be played” point of view, instead I want to be a normal person and only dip into Game where absolutely required. But with Penelope I knew she enjoyed that kind of stuff. I imagine it would come across as congruent with what she thought of me.

By the time the day of the date rolled around I was 99% sure we’d already covertly agreed to have sex. She even flake checked me! And said she was looking forward to it! At 8am! Talk about a running jump.

Do I even need to write much more? I’ll throw in a few details here but needless to say:


We met at the station then I took her for a couple of drinks. As we walked there she asked where I lived and then later on, after ordering herself her second large glass of wine, called it “convenient” and “good that you live so close.” I kissed her easily when she came back with that second drink and talked dirty to her a bit. We got near the end of the drinks and I just said “let’s go.” It wasn’t hard and it wasn’t a feat of Game. All the hard work had been done in the previous year (and before that, if you want to talk about cultivating vibe) and by her own hormones.

So really the question to be asked here is why was she so up for it? I asked her why she’d re-followed me and she said she’d just been scrolling through her DMs and saw my name so she re-followed me. Take that as you will. She had her own desires in one hand and knew the guy who could solve that for her. It’s the small crumbs you leave behind which get picked up and I guess I’ve been in Daygame for long enough now that my crumbs are getting eaten. It’s a gift from the Daygame Gods.

I guess I can link it back to the set, though it was so long ago, and stress the fact that impressions count and can last a long time. It’s the payoff to cultivating the right vibe and giving off the right look and delivering value effectively. It reminds me, in a way, of a lay from 2018 where the initial lead went cold and then she re-engaged after more than a week. Though there are lots of downsides to swipe dating culture and the effects on attention of social media, it’s beneficial for guys like myself that girls can simply pick up their phone and casually let me know that they’re interested.

Does that mean I’m going to be ABC from now on. Always go for the number or failing that adding on social media just in case? No. I’ll continue to follow my mantra of Sometimes Be Closing (SBC) because I don’t like looking at my phone and seeing a string of answered feeler messages. I’d rather have an accurate picture of my leads at any point in time and only go for the close if there seems to be something on the cards. In this case it was the strength of the set with the boyfriend obstacle getting in the way, right now.

Yours unfaithfully,

Thomas Crown

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Hidden Track: #71: Set Stealers Get Stitches

Since we’re on the topic of history, here’s a lay report I’ve been sitting on since last year.

I met up with the boys in Carnaby Street and they were already quite deep in their cups. Mr Rasputin and Xants had already had three bottles of wine between them if I recall correctly.

We headed outside so that they could smoke and Roy and Xants turned around and opened a couple of Turkish girls who had chosen the pub as their meeting point: absolute classics like “who lies more men or women?” and the “best friends test.”

Rasputin and I carried on our conversation and I was happy with that; I didn’t have any drive in me to approach and I’m not too bothered with anything outside of Daygame by this point. Rasputin, on the other hand, isn’t so inclined, and maybe turned around and possibly stole Roy’s set while he was inside getting drinks.

I was there thinking buff, now I need to get involved and just sidled over to the group conversation and tried to say as little as possible but Xants’ girl – a small six-y kind of girl – suddenly became interested in me. It’s not my fault! The little Turk turned to her friend and whispered something to her. Xants then turned to me:

“She likes you. I don’t speak Turkish but I know what “I like the tall guy” looks like in any language.”

Taking that as his permission to go after her I chatted with her a bit more but I knew I didn’t need to say much since attraction was already there.

The pub closed up and we tried another one but they wouldn’t let us in because Rasputin came across as too drunk. Bloody Russians! Instead we went up onto Oxford Street and took a cab to a cocktail place near Roy’s where I isolated and kissed my one.

Now it was pretty late and this place was closing up so we headed over to Roy’s for a drink, making sure to tip-toe around to not anger the sleeping Mr S.

Boy, Roy was pissed. Fuming even. I think he wanted to throw Rasputin thirty feet to the pavement below. He grabbed some wine glasses from his kitchen and plonked them down on the table, breaking one. Now Rasputin had maybe, possibly stolen his set and we were now drinking his wine. I could see the anger raging behind his Irish eyes.

And now this is why I don’t do Nightgame: the girls wanted to head home. Though I’d got my one to agree to go for a drink with me after the last bar, her friend was staying at hers. There are all these obstacles in Nightgame and now I had to take a leap of faith.

The Uber pulled up outside Roy’s.

“Hey, we’ll make sure you get home okay,” I said as I dragged Rasputin along to the cab. Roy had since headed to bed and had given up trying to lay the other girl. I bundled the girls into the car and sat in the front seat.

We headed south of the river and Rasputin started throwing some absolute A-Game:

“So what…” (he was very drunk by now and slurred), “what kind of FOOD can you make?” The alcohol made him emphasise certain words. “Like… can you make a…. No…. I shouldn’t say it. Can you make a kebab?… I’m not racist… Like a NICE kebab… I’m a progressive man you see.”

Then again, his girl did swap with mine so they could sit right next to each other and his girl turned 90 degrees to face him directly. Apparently she wanted to kiss him there but Rasputin in his drunken state couldn’t pick up the signals. Rasputin will be releasing his new textbook “Kebab Game” this autumn.

We arrived at the girl’s house and Rasputin and his girl went outside to smoke. This is my opportunity, I thought, and so I started to escalate with my one and went all the way.


Afterwards we went to see where the two of them had gone. It transpired that Rasputin had taken his back to his place and he’d banged her too. What a night.

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