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I hit a new club recently with a guy who runs a pickup workshop as a second job.  As soon as we entered I knew I had found paradise — the whole place was filled with East European babes.  I didn’t even need to see their round, high-cheekboned faces and pouty lips up close to know where they were born.  The classy and sophisticated, yet slightly tacky, fashion statements of the women were the tipoff.  Floor-length (real) fur coats and shiny black cocktail dresses were the norm.  The club resonated with the pleasing sounds of thick Russian accents until Gunther turned up the volume on the thumping eurotrash music and my ears began bleeding.

My buddy swooped in on two girls, a 5 and an 8.5, sitting at the bar.  I stood nearby to hear his game.  We had a code worked out so that when I saw that he had “hooked” the set (meaning, made the girls laugh) I would come in and ask if he had “seen Sarah”.  If he wanted me to wing for him he would introduce me to the girls.

As I stood nearby hidden by the crowd, I eavesdropped surreptitiously and learned that the two girls were Bulgarian.  The 8 was extremely cold, turning away to sigh and look at the dancefloor and generally make her displeasure known.  This was expected.  As I’ve written, women from the former Soviet Bloc are cold as ice on the approach and will shit test mercilessly to weed out the lesser men.  They respond well to mild insults, edgy teasing, condescension, and damning with faint praise.

My friend used the classic “Did you see the two girls fighting outside?” opener.  His game is high energy so this opener suits his style.  The hotter chick looked directly at him without cracking even the slightest smile and the following conversation ensued:

Her:  [imagine a heavy slavic accent] That sounds like a bad pickup line.
Him:  What, you don’t trust me?  If you can’t trust me how am I supposed to trust you?
Her:  I heard that line on a show about guys picking up girls.  There was no fight outside.

Now at this point most guys would have bailed, figuring that there was not only zero attraction, but in fact a negative vibe.  He plowed on.

Him:  [turning to the target’s friend]  Is she always like this?  I bet she questions everything you say just to be different.  How do you deal with her?  Let’s show her how to be fun.  [Friend laughs]
Her:  Oh, you are going to show me how to be fun?  That is very presumptuous for a guy who makes up stories.
Him:  Let me tell you what a real bad pickup line sounds like… you know, kind of like the lines you hear all the time from guys like these [motions around the room].  “Where are you from?”  “Can I buy you a drink?”  “What’s your sign?”  “You’re pretty.”  I bet you fall for those all the time.

That’s when it happened; the moment a deep, physical attraction was created.  A smile forced its way on her face and she laughed as her body turned in his direction.  The signs are always unmistakable.

He then launched into a story about a kid on a tricycle flipping him the bird on Christmas Eve, and the girls were completely hooked.  He would focus his attention on one and the other would lean in and say to her friend “what did he just say?”  Frequently, they would interrupt him (as girls are wont to do since their minds tend to jump erratically from one topic to the next) and he used these breaks in the flow of conversation to say things like “Wow, your eyes are pretty… especially the right one.”

Women who believe game cannot create attraction, but can only amplify attraction that already exists, are wrong.  This guy, who was at least two points lower than the girl in the looks department, started in negative territory and turned it around.  That is because women’s attraction mechanisms are not the same as men’s.  To phrase it as an analogy:

As T&A is to men, personality is to women.

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