AWALT. All of ‘em. No exceptions, no breaks. You have to protect yourself and your wellbeing. This gets to be very difficult if you snag a female with very high SMV. Once you get accustomed to banging out a super hot chick regularly, it is hard to give that up. You may be inclined to make compromises. You may get oneitis or lapse into beta bullshit. Be strong. Keep the power to walk away. It will make you more attractive, and will keep you from getting too fucked up over some relationship gone wrong.
Up until recently, I had been spending time with the hottest woman I have ever slept with. (So far, anyway!) She was 22, a fitness competitor, beauty queen, and occasionally booked gigs modeling lingerie. She also graduated first in her class from a solid business school (bachelors, not MBA). To boot, she was an avid hunter, and had an awesome relationship with her dad and brothers. Parents still together, still in love. Only one previous sexual partner … according to her anyway. Oh, and she loved and actively requested anal… I toyed with the notion that she might be a potential unicorn to groom. There were red flags, but unicorns are made not found. I stuck around to fully “examine” her potential. I ended up nearly getting caught in a very bad situation.
She shit tested me harder than anyone has ever shit tested me in my life. Next level shit testing. Smarter, sleeker, exceptionally sinister shit testing. It was an incredible challenge, and was (for a brief time) rewarding to defuse all that nonsense and bang out a total babe. But then, it got obnoxious. I got tired of being shit tested on an epic scale. She was so fucking hot that I got invested, which started fucking with my ability to properly deal with her continual fitness testing. I didn’t ever fail. I got in over my head on the last shit test she dealt out, and had a hard realization that she shouldn't be fucking testing me in the first place. Anybody that had not figured out by now that I was awesome and deserving of respect was not worth my time. So I pulled the ripcord and cut her out of my rad life.
So two weeks ago she is drunk at a bar she is entertaining the attentions of about 5 dudes falling over themselves to buy her drinks and gobble up her stupid ass nonsense. I am not drinking, and vaguely aware that she is getting conversation gangbanged. I am chatting up a few cute bartenders, generally not paying attention to her stupid ass. I started to get a nervous feeling, an old feeling, a beta feeling. Ugh, I hate that shit still exists in there somewhere.
She is pounding shots and getting sloppy, I fucking hate chicks who behave this way. I should get the fuck out of here. This place sucks. Ugh, how did I get dragged along to this shithole bar. I cannot figure out if she wants to come take a swing at this dude she is now hanging all over, or if she wants to fuck him, or what? But mostly, I don’t give a fuck what she wants because I am not going to have my actions dictated by some broad. BOOM. And there is was, thank you TRP. Why in the hell am I worrying myself over this bitch? There are a million others like her. So what she is pretty and likes to get fucked in the ass. Totally not worth the level of drama she brings to my life.
So I say goodbye to some friends, then walk into the crowd and say, “Hey HB9 – I am heading out.” Then I turn and start walking. She follows me out. She isn’t ready. This isn’t a democracy. I am leaving. She can stay or she can come right this very moment – but the man is ready to leave and is not waiting for her or anyone else. In other words, either way, I am out. She wants to “stayyyyyyyy.” “Will I come get her when the bar closes?” no. “Will I give her some cash for a cab?” no. “If I stay she will fuck my brains out when we get home later.” No. “PLLLEEEAASE?” no.
Well she wants to stay. Ok, I tell her. See ya, around.
I go home, bag up the few things she has left around my apartment and set them outside my door. This bitch doesn’t have a wallet. Doesn’t have a phone. Doesn’t have keys. Has no way to get home, and could not be any less concerned.
I get a phonecall from a sort-of friend around 2:30 am. “Heyyyyyyyyy, Chris let me use his phone. Will you come get me?” no. “Awwwww are you mad?” no. “Chris said he is going to drop me off at your place.”[click]. So she gets dropped off at my place. And now I feel sort of guilty about Chris getting stuck with her. But whatever, either he was trying to do me a solid in which case his choice and I don’t feel guilty. OR he was being a white knight in which case, he is a stupid ass… and I don’t feel guilty.
She doesn’t make it past the front door which has a camera on it. I am not going to risk having charges filed on me to bang out some disgustingly drunk chick that wants to get laid. I hand her her bag of shit, and say best wishes. Your phone, wallet, and keys are in the bag. “Do you want me to call you a cab?” No. She wants to stay with me. “Not an option. See ya, around.” Insta-tears. I turn and shut the door. Lock deadbolts one and two.
She knocks for an hour. Finally she sleeps in her car. She comes and knocks the next morning. I open the door. She wants to talk. “nope, not interested thanks.” She asks, “What did I do wrong? Why are you mad?” So I tell her, “I am not mad. Your behavior was gross. You sold yourself to me as a good girl, not a party girl. You are a party girl, which is great – just not for me. So we are through. See ya, around.” Deleted her number and her email. Stopped responding to texts.
Don’t want to downgrade to a plate, just want her out of my life. Her voice was annoying.
So lets talk about red flags. Aside from the massive shit tests, and tons of “friends” who happened to be super handsome dudes there were a few. She played information games – as in, “I heard your boss saying something about you at dinner.” So I ask, “ok what did he say?” Her, “Let’s talk about it later.” Me, “Now is a good time, and I don’t want to be thinking about it all night. Spit it out.” Her, “no I will tell you later.” Me, “was it good or bad?” Her, “I will tell you later.” – I FUCKING DESPISE people who play information games because it is a shitty power play that I am really susceptible too when it comes to my work. My job is super political.
She was flakey. Her best friend was a total hoebag. Her ex beat the shit out of her a bunch. And even despite all of that, which I was aware of in the moment… I still got to the point where I was actively convincing myself what a great catch she was. What a cruel fucking joke played on men by Mother Nature. Humans can and will suspend disbelief at the onset of a romantic relationship, almost like a dream state. I knew she was trouble, she said as much with her actions starting on our first date. Yet, somehow my brain still thought upgrading her to main plate and designating her as potential LTR was a great idea.
So here I am, like a good TRP man being mindful of all this chick’s flaws and telling myself that she is not a perfect angel. And my hormones and body chemistry are conspiring like – “yes she is a perfect angel and you should marry her. Look how pretty she is!”
Anyway, thank God I had the good sense to get the fuck out of there. If I had it to do again, I might be more inclined to bang her out a few more times before cutting her loose. I probably would not tell her why I was cutting her loose either. Those both seem like missteps and/or missed opportunities. It’s a work in progress.
Gents, even a smoking hot broad that checks every box for a unicorn is not a unicorn. They are mythical creatures. If you get to a point where you are about to suffer serious emotional harm at the hands of some chick unless you walk away. Do it. Call it damage control for oneitis or triage or whatever. The power to walk away is the essence of abundance mentality. There are more attractive women, as in hotter and also in abundance. Don’t eat shit for pussy, brah. Don’t eat shit for anything.