So last week, we eventually got around to date number 2, after her cancelling once (but immediately suggesting other days we could meet up – a flake is allowable under these circumstances), and me cancelling twice.
I had told her to over to my neighbourhood, since I wanted to get her back to mine. My current pad is awesome, 20 feet high vaulted ceilings, mezzanine, the works – girls’ legs generally tend to fly open once they get inside.
We had a couple of drinks in some nearby bars, which we pretty busy as it was a Friday night. This girl has been so into me since we first met, I really don’t think there was much I could have done to fuck it up. I even tripped over somebodies umbrella and fell into the lap of a middle-aged woman at one point (smooth) and didn’t even get called out for it.
Since I knew I was going to ask her back to mine, I didn’t try and kiss her first – once you’ve made out with a girl, and then ask her back, there’s only one place it’s going, and she knows that. Some girls will be fine with this, but it will activate the anti-slut defence of others. If you ask a girl back before you’ve made out, her hamster can generate some plausible deniability that you were “just going back for a drink, and maybe a kiss”, and after you’ve split her in half, that “it just happened”. Props to a poster on Roosh’s forum for that one.
Anyway, after a couple of drinks, she eagerly accepted the invitation back to mine, with a half-hearted shit test about my intentions, which I think I just completely ignored. Once back, we were making out within 2 minutes, and the sofa claimed another victim, and gained another dubious stain. I really must invest in some leather cleaner.
She got a taxi back to her place not long after. She can go on rotation for now, whilst I chase up some hotter prospects.