Going out everyday and closing so many sets, I accumulated a lot of phone numbers, so I had to develop a more sophisticated way to organize them all in my phone. I still collect hundreds of numbers per month, even though I have a regular girlfriend and do go out nearly as much as I did living at Project Miami. So I created different categories, and abbreviations for each of them that I put before a girl’s name in my phone. The categories are: ?, Now, Yes, Y, SS, SC and D.
The first category (?), were girls who I number closed but wasn’t sure what’s going on with her yet. The Now category were girls I approached, had a fantastic interaction with, number-closed, maybe made out with, so I prioritized them as far as advancing things. The Yes category were girls I’ve had sex with and they want to keep having sex with me.
My Yes girls had specific instructions — they weren’t allowed to call me, text or email me; they could only contact me after I’ve contacted them. They all knew I was seeing other girls. Honesty has always been important to me, just like it was to my mom when she would tell me not to lie to her about me not wanting to go to school. Mystery always said to leave people better than you find them. I thought that was brilliant advice, and it’s been a philosophy I’ve held close ever since.
Girls in the Y category were my girlfriends. I was emotionally attached to these girls. In the SS category were girls I pulled off social sites, like Facebook, MySpace, Match, etc. My SC category included social circle contacts, such as promoters and other quality contacts for throwing parties and going out. The D category were girls I intended to delete. These were girls who I maybe closed during demos at bootcamps but wasn’t really interested in. Also, sometimes when I did social circle game I would just get everyone’s number, even girls and guys I wasn’t really interested in.
It’s important to keep everybody organized. If you travel a lot, every time you visit a different city you can look up the girls from that city and text all of them.
One night I’m with one of my Y girls, Nikki. I picked her up in Set, this Russian club we always went to on Mondays. We had already fucked and went out partying a few times. At this point, I had a new Jaguar with black tinted windows that seated four, and I was going to take her out in it. Lovedrop and Johnny Allred wanted to go out as well. Mystery and Matador were out of town doing a bootcamp.
“Why don’t you take Johnny’s car in case we pull?” Lovedrop said as we were leaving the house.
“There’s no fucking way you’re taking my car,” Johnny responded.
Lovedrop ended up calling Matador to ask if he was cool with us using his car, and he agreed. So I ended up driving Matador’s SL 500, and Lovedrop, driving my car with Johnny in the passenger seat, were following me as we headed toward South Beach. I knew the promoter at the place we were going, and I always got drinks for free. As we’re driving on US 1, this guy in front of me made a right turn without his blinker, so I had to slam on the brakes. Lovedrop was under influence of something and couldn’t react quickly enough. He crashed my car into the back of Matador’s. Nikki freaked out.
“Oh my fucking god,” she said as she got out of the car and looked at it after we pulled over in a nearby parking lot. Matador’s bumper was torn off and the tail-lights were broken. The front of my car looked like it just smashed into a brick wall at 40 mph. The bumper was hanging on by a thread. It was making a bunch of sounds from the engine.
We didn’t call our insurance companies because I wasn’t insured to drive Matador’s car, and Lovedrop wasn’t covered for driving my car.
“I think I’m having neck pain,” my target said.
“No, you’re not having any pain,” I said. Not without insurance she wasn’t.
“It’s not a big deal, just a fender bender,” I tried to reassure her.
Lovedrop said he would pay me back, but I came to find out he was broke. It turned out they weren’t making any money.
“Once the show hits, we’ll pay you back out of my cut,” he told me.
I’m still waiting on that money today. That was the first fuck you from VA to me.
Remember when I said Hawaii was the first instructor I heard of who got screwed out of money by Mystery, but not the last? Sasha Daygame told me Mystery owed him about $50,000 for money he loaned him to move into Project Hollywood. They were best friends at the time, knew each other from when they lived in Canada, where they’re both from. Sasha had an inheritance of a few million dollars and wanted to help his friend pursue his dream. As weird as Sasha is, he has a good heart. If you’ve ever seen him on stage, you know he’s fucking funny. He should devote more time to his standup career than his pickup career, in my opinion.
And now after this accident, I was joining Hawaii and Sasha on the list of people Mystery and his company owe money to.
We ended up just going back to the house, somehow making it back in those two cars, and having some drinks. I gave Nikki a massage. If you give a girl a massage, even though it’s kind of cliche and she knows what you’re after, it’s on if she goes with it. Get her in her underwear and use massage lotion or oil. In a girl’s head, to take her clothes off she will sometimes need plausible deniability. If she agrees to a massage, you can create plausible deniability for her by telling her she won’t want to get massage lotion or oil on her clothes, so she should at least strip to her underwear. Then it’s up to you to turn her on and close.
It was a tough day, to say the least, but I trusted Lovedrop to pay me back the $10,000 damages to my car. I had never been fucked by VA at that point, and I had no reason not to trust them. I was making money at my computer stores, so I wasn’t strapped for cash or anything. Little did I know, it was the beginning of the myriad of ‘fuck yous’ from them to me. I started realizing they don’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves and will hurt anyone that’s in their way if need be, no matter what the cost is.