Desi Train

My mom’s uncle used to spend hours telling me his adventures. He was a top cop of his time and spent much of his life hunting the bad guys and sometimes wild animals who would sneak into the villages and attack humans. One of the most fascinating one liners (yeah I got that from him) he used to say was that when a tiger’s tasted a man’s blood his mind goes crazy. He’s hooked and he can’t think of eating anything else but a man.

Flash forward to 2004. My first exposure to - the then underground - pickup community. I entered the field with a bunch of pickup gurus by my side and I realized how easy (and nerve wrecking at that time) it was to approach complete strangers and talk to them. And then I got success. And I was hooked.

But the mistaken beliefs of the past would sneak in time and again. I would go blank, nervous, and lazy or just have this wall of resistance to go out and meet people. In pickup terms: I would turn from back into an AFC (Average Frustrated Chump) time and again.

The last few days had this wall spring up again. So when the call came, I grabbed the opportunity with both my hands. J sounded excited when I picked up the phone: “Dude grab your bags and drive to LA. The Juggler guys are here and it would be fun to meet them and learn the art from the natural of all gurus”

Juggler aka Wayne Elise always has had a personality I’ve liked much better than the rest. Besides Style. He was mentioned more than once in The Game. Wayne was one of the first who gained instant fame on the - the then secret online discussion boards. His advise to questions were short and precise. His solutions were pure gold. But above all his style involved being natural and spontaneous. No memorized routines or storylines. No scripts.

It was time to meet the guys who Juggler had trained personally and were traveling all around the world teaching clients the Juggler method. Unfortunately Juggler wasn’t coming.

Friday noon, I pick up my already packed bags and start my car. I was supposed to drive to Yosemite in Northern California for a week of undisturbed unwinding in the beautiful, untouched and peaceful Yosemite forest hills. But I was now driving to West Hollywood: the epitome of human artificiality. There were more egos than people in here. But I had to do this. Unwinding plans be damned.

Though people say I’m a natural when it comes to having spellbinding conversations with complete strangers, I know I haven’t even scratched the surface. I have to go deeper. Break up this science into its different parts and study and master them. There is this desire to connect with each and everyone. To leave a spark in their eyes and joy ringing all through their being after I talk to them and move on. And above all I wanted to get rid of the big bad Wall. Forever.

The connection with the Juggler guys was instantaneous. D, K and C had these open warm personalities. I sat at the corner of the conference room at the Bel Age Hotel watching the three talk to the clients who had come in to learn the Juggler Method. It wasn’t surprising to note that, again, as I have seen time and over, most of them were from the IT industry.

I listened to their seminar. But there were doubts. The Juggler Method in all it’s entirety may not work as well in the hardest and most grinding field. Los Angeles. Here every woman at a club or a bar is a celebrity or working her way to becoming one. Men are either filthy rich divorce lawyers, models or a producer of some sort. From my experience, if any guy can approach, attract and date a woman at one of the clubs in Los Angeles, then he can attract and date anyone at any place at anytime wherever that place may be in this entire world.

I decided to wait and try the Method out nevertheless later that evening.

We meet at The Standard on Sunset a few hours later. D asks me to open a 2 girl blonde set standing by the pool. THE WALL SPRINGS RIGHT UP.

“Fuck I can’t do this”

‘Why? Get over your anxiety. Go and just say a Hi to them’

The WALL. THE FUCKING WALL.

D opens the set. I walk in and join him. Once past the wall, I’m on. From the corner of the eye I see K approaching a blonde and a brunette sitting on a few feet away from me. He opens them up.

There’s no Wall!

I bounce to them and start talking. The brunette’s a personal assistant to a famous actress. The blonde’s in production. They ask me what I do.

“Have you used the internet?”

They both nod in unison… “Yes of course…”

“Well I make that work…”

They start giggling.

“Well that’s the boring part”

“So what’s the interesting part?” they ask

“I’m a part time writer”

Their interest is perked up and now they wanna know what I write about. Therein starts the most interest preview of The MBA Gang and if they were movie producers I may have as well sold them the idea.

It’s almost midnight when CJ one of the clients walks up to me “Lets bounce to Saddle Ranch”

We all walk to Saddle Ranch. New venue. The hottest looking girls. The largest collection of silicon tits at one single place. Its been a year since I last was at the Ranch.

Somebody from the group asks me to open a 3 girl and 1 guy set. The Wall. Its up. Fuck it. I run to the bar and break my pickup code. I order a beer.

C and I end up talking about my resistance. Is it fear? Is it anxiety? Is it some switch that turns the Wall on and off? He pushes me to open a hot blonde standing next to us.

I refuse. I can’t. And just then I see this petite, brown headed slim cute girl walking past us. Green eyes. Soft features. Sensitivity and down to earthiness written all over her face. She’s wearing a white sleeveless top and a red skirt that reaches her ankles. That’s the face that matches the picture I have in my head of my… dream woman.

Almost in an instant I approach her…

“Hi… What Indian shop did you get that ethnic skirt from?”

“Ohh… I don’t know…”

“You seem to be into eastern designs and philosophy”

“Yes I am!!! How did you know?”

“Because no woman in this entire bar is wearing something that goes below their knees and a top that doesn’t show three quarters of their breasts”

She starts smiling. The game is on. The wall is gone.

“Hi… I’m oz”

“Hi… I’m Sunny Lane… nice to meet you oz”

After some chitter-chatter and fun talk I accidentally end up asking her what she does (a big no no)

“I work on Playboy TV.”

Now I don’t know if she is messing with me or just being plane serious.

“Oh you the news reader?”

“No, I do shows on TV. Here’s my card”.

I’m stumped. But good old practice in the field saves the day and I segue onto spirituality which she’s hooked on.

It’s around 4 am when I get back home. I’m about to flop in bed when I switch on my computer and google “Sunny Lane”. Sure enough. 9.9 million websites show up in the search results.

I can’t help but laugh. Style mentioned a similar encounter he had in his book. And I was experiencing the same.

I had just pickedup a woman who had all the characteristics of my dream woman. And my dream woman turned out to be a famous porn star!

It was too much to take and I dropped flat on my bed. More than 14 hours out in the field with the Juggler guys had taken a toll on my body.

. . . . . .

I have a problem. And the problem’s been installed in my inner system by my loving parents. The problem? I can’t sleep past sunrise.

I open my eyes. It’s about 7am. With hardly 3 hours of sleep and 5 beers the night before to melt the Wall, you know you are in for a shitty day. A day that starts and ends in one word. Hangover.

Mother fucking son of bitch. First I have to deal with the unexpected rising of the Wall. Now I have to deal with the Hangover.

We are supposed to meet at the Grove, a shopping mall in LA in about 4 hours. I can barely walk without sending a vibration of pain and tiredness throughout my body.

K radios me.

“Beep… Dude… Are you coming? DON’T TELL ME YOU ARE GOING OUT WITH MS. PORN STAR!”

“No I’m not and if you can get off my back, I’ll get some time to take a shower, a hot coffee and a heavy breakfast”

The breakfast at IHOP is good to last me till evening. But I’m too tired. I manage to reach the Grove.

Day Game. The hardest and the toughest quiz in pickup to crack. Some guys are too good and find it easy. While to some it’s a puzzle. The success they get at a night game is almost negligible during the day.

Juggler’s guys are talking about the day game right in the center of the mall. I can’t believe this. Many of the girls walking past us would be approached by the very principles the Juggler guys are talking to us about. Do these hot women even know what the group is planning and talking about?

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With one of the clients, C & I enter Barnes and Nobles, the bookstore. From my view I see shy women all around. Women who want to talk to men. Women who are missing romance in their life.

C starts working with the client. He approaches a women in the travel section and starts talking.

I rewind what the Juggler guys had been talking about. The focus is internal in a day game. Lots of thoughts occupy a woman’s mind while walking in the mall or a coffee shop or the grocery store. The trick is to merge your opener with their internal thoughts. I’m impressed by this insight.

But the FUCKING WALL SHOOTS UP.

I excuse myself and walk to the coffee section in the store. I need a Coke. C walks up to me.

“The Wall again?”

“Yeah”

“Ok without giving it a second thought, ask the woman behind you, what time it is?”

I turn around. There is cute, petite girl with Oriental looks wearing shades that cover three quarters of her face (it’s the in thing these days).

“What’s the time?”

She spaced out in her thoughts.

I try the Juggler Vacuum and keep looking at her.

“Oh… sorry… I am so lost in my thoughts… ah… I don’t have a watch… but still I can tell you the time… Ahh…”

“Wow! You are psychic!”

“Yeah a bit… I get it from my aunt”

The Wall’s gone.

And then it clicked somewhere inside my head. The opening off the curtains. The truth exposed itself. A slight revelation. I’ll be writing about it in my next post.

. . . . . .

I’m with the guys having dinner at Standard. I’m tired and about to drop my head on the table, when I look to my left.

A beautiful stunner sits on the table next to us. She has two girls and guy for company. Long straight dirty blonde hair. Perfect makeup. Magnetic eyes. An east European model look.

D looks at me.

“You like her? Go open the set”

“Fuck I can’t” The wall springs back up.

“The Wall?”

“Yes”

“Fuck it. I’ll open them and you join in”

D gets up and opens the set with a simple “How you doing guys?”

A minute later I join in and start talking to the guy in the set. A few minutes later I’m talking the beautiful stunner.

“Anastasia… nice to meet you oz…”

Anastasia’s parents came in the early eighties from Poland and settled down in Los Angeles. Her dad’s a fashion photographer.

We talk. Joke. Her stern face gives way to one of the most beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen. I tell her that.

“Oh… I know I should laugh more… So where you guys headed to?”

“No plans as yet. Probably hang out here and then to some other club on Sunset”

She touches my arm and softly looks in my eyes “We’ll be here all night. I hope to see you again.”

“Sure”

And then she leaves with her group.

“Fucking A MAN!!! DID YOU GET HER NUMBER” OJ is more excited than me.

“No, but she would like to see me later by the pool”

Our dinner arrives. I can hardly eat. My headache’s a bitch. My body dying for some rest. I haven’t slept for more than 3 hours in two days.

I decide to call the night. I walk out of the hotel and wait for the valet to get my car.

As I tip the valet and am about to get in, I notice a huge billboard on the other side of the street.

It’s a commercial for colored contact lens with the headliner “My parents gave me brown eyes 20 years ago”

Next to the headliner is the face of a gorgeous female model. It’s Anastasia.

I get in my car. And think for a second. Should I get back?

I put my car in drive and head back home. It’s almost 11:30 by the time I reach home. I lie down on the bed and have this feeling of utmost peace. I’m glad I decided to come back and give my body the rest it desperately needed. There will always be another Anastasia I’ll bump into tomorrow.

. . . . .

With a good night’s rest, I walked back into the lobby of the Standard. It’s around noon and we all are meeting for a short time before the Juggler guys take off.

I had to talk about what I learnt and experienced in the last two days. Honestly it was a lot. Not about the Juggler method but about my own sight of the different layers of the Matrix. My own aversions and attachments towards meeting and socializing. And above all my own fears that creep in time and again.

It was around evening when I drive back home, and Maurice calls up. He’s my wing in OC and the few times I’ve gone out in the last few weeks we’ve winged together.

We meet at Starbucks in Long Beach where I’m talking to him about my insights on the last few days with the Juggler boys, when I notice a cute blonde sipping coffee, sitting on the couch a few feet away from us. She’s reading a book.

Maurice looks at me.

“Yours or mine?”

“You take it. I still have issues with the Wall”

Maurice is pumped up.

Walks to her and opens her up.

She’s from Germany and is traveling around the world. I join in. The conversation gets fun and exciting. I keep my distance. Wing rules: Never encroach on your wing’s target.

Since I’m hungry I suggest dinner. All three of us end up at this Sushi place. Maurice is making good progress. The German blonde is completely into him.

I pay the check and leave the two love birds.

Approaching strangers. Attracting them. Building a connection.

At times it is so difficult that men and women end up living single lonely lives… too afraid to approach… too afraid to talk… I can understand. I go through that in phases. They call it anxiety or perhaps phobia. I call it The Wall.

As I turned back to get a one last look at my wing and his German target, I couldn’t help but think… Approaching and attracting strangers could also be the easiest thing in the entire world.

It all depends on what side of the chalk line you are standing on.

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This entry was posted on Monday, June 5th, 2006 at 10:18 am
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