Bad Weather Game: Some of the Best There Is

Last night, I was out having an early supper with an old friend of mine–our conversation revolved around typical topics between men in their 30s–business and pussy.

After finishing our steak tartare, we went out prowling in the neighborhood, searching for a spot to shoot a game of pool and meet girls.

It was pouring rain, the drops were thick–we were in the middle of a January nor’easter that brings the smell of ocean to New York and pushes the cold deep into your bones.

There weren’t many people out and the bartenders were complaining about how slow it was.

We racked up and started playing a game of 8 ball and I observed the venue in between shots.

A few regular bar flies, a giant guy with a girl on each side of him, a mixed group of four in a booth involved in deep conversation, my friend and me.

My buddy remarked to me, “Man its dead tonight, people are terrified of a little rain.”

“Yeah, its still early, lets stick around and see what happens, you know the girls who come out tonight really want to be out.”

I’ve witnessed this many times before in bad weather–the people who trudge out in it are the real troopers. The ones who find real life to be much more interesting than Netflix, aren’t afraid of being uncomfortable, and love a good time.

The most fun I’ve ever had in New York bars were during blizzards and hurricanes–not only does it bring an atmosphere of excitement, but it makes you want to take someone home and share a comfortable bed.

I lost the first game of pool by pocketing the 8 and we decided to make the next game more focused by putting 20$ on it.

As I was shooting, a trio of blonde girls came in and sat in a booth near our table.

I heard them talking and detected a Dutch accent, my friend looked over at me and smirked–he speaks Dutch and calls it his “superpower”.

After my shot, I pointed my pool stick at the girls, walked over and said, “Girls, I’ve got a lot of money on this game, I need some luck.”

They responded well with coos and interest, so I told them to blow on my stick for good luck and stuck the tip in the prettiest ones face. She laughed, blew, and the other girls followed suit.

“Thank you girls, now we’ll see if you are good ones or bad ones.”

Then I went back to the table. After crucial shots I would yell over at the girls and let them know the status–they gave cute little cheers and smiles. We all knew what was going to happen after the game was over.

I ended up winning, and we both went up to the booth filled with smiling blondes and asked to join.

We chatted with them, my American buddy blew their minds with fluent Dutch, and we got into the conversation of what kinds of people go out on a night with freezing rain and wind that makes you fight with your umbrella.

“We are visiting from Amsterdam and only have four more days in New York and want to see as much as we can.”

“Oh good, so we have visiting tourists who come out–and that’s perfect because I can’t stand most American girls.”

That statement always leads into a fun conversation about the lack of class in Americans and their vapid heads.

My friend was hitting it off with one of the girls and arranged to take her out before taking her number and then leaving. I took the number of the pretty one who blew on my stick first and then headed out alone to make my way home.

On the way, I stopped in one of my favorite places and looked at the sparse crowd. The girls in the venue were looking around, all of them glanced over to have a look when I stepped in, and the interested ones started flipping their hair.

I saddled up to one of the hair-flippers who was sitting with a couple, looked over at her and said “Hi, you look warm.”

She was wearing a fuzzy cashmere sweater that she let me pet, and after talking about what it would be like to kill a baby seal, I invited her out for a cigarette.

We went outside, stood under the awning, lit our fags, and blew smoke out into the heavy rain.

It was just on the verge of freezing and the drops were giant and hard.

“They are like fucking diamonds falling. You know there are planets where it rains diamonds? Just imagine that, we are aliens right now on another planet, and when the diamonds start falling, it gets us horny.”

*I had the sentiment loaded up in my brain already because I had Twittered it out earlier and I was waiting for the chance to release it:

Follow me on Twitter folks. Click the image to go there.

Follow me on Twitter folks. Click the image to go there.

We started talking about how the bad weather makes people want to have lovers for the night and she asked me what I was up to for the rest of the evening (yes!).

I told her that right now I just wanted to be somewhere warm, drink, and talk my face off.

“Sometimes I feel like talking my face off, and not to friends, I want to find a stranger to sit there and we can both talk our faces off to eachother. You open up to strangers in ways that you don’t with your friends, I’m in that kind of mood right now. Do you want to be that stranger? Do you mind if I talk my face off for a bit?”

“Sure, I like that.”

“Ok then, lets go inside and talk our faces off.”

The ‘I want to talk my face off’ line is something I have been using a lot lately. Its one of those sayings that I’ll keep for a few weeks because it works so well with my current vibe.

A few months ago, the saying was ‘This isn’t like real life. Its a movie, don’t you feel like we are in a movie right now?’ and girls were eating it up. 

You can steal my words if you want, but its key that you find something that fits with your personality and stage of development in order to be effective.

We went back to the bar and after our drinks were finished, I looked over at the couple she was with and said “do you think they’ll mind if I steal you for a while?” and she laughed and said “definitly not.”

“Good, then you can join me for some champagne, I’ve had a bottle that I’ve been wanting to drink for a while.”

She said goodbye to her friends, and as soon as we got outside, I said “wait a second, before champagne, I have to do something first” and pushed her up against the wall for a brief, but intense make-out.

It was good and we both felt it, so when I pulled away and said “ok, I just wanted to make sure, we can go have champagne now” she knew exactly what was about to go down.

When we got back to my place, the champagne never got opened.

After fucking the first time, I asked her if she was out looking to get laid, and she replied “I wasn’t opposed to the idea” which made me laugh and we continued our conversation about how inclement weather triggers animal instincts in people.

As we stared at the rain falling outside my bedroom windows, she remarked at how sexy it was when I described them as diamonds falling on another planet and told me that was the moment when she decided she wanted to sleep with me.

“Well babe, I told you I was a horny fuckin’ alien.”

And then I took out my fake front tooth and smiled wide at her.


If you liked this style of storytelling/game advice, I would highly recommend that you check out Art of the One Night Stand. 

In it, I tell even more detailed stories that take place all over the world and after each one I include a very comprehensive breakdown of the key parts of my game that led to success. Its a fun read and I can guarantee you will learn some effective techniques.

Get Art of the One Night Stand here.

About Goldmund

Goldmund grew up a wild-child and was constantly being disciplined. Using ancient rituals and game, he broke free from the shackles of his mind and the norms of this backwards society. He frequents bars in Brooklyn, mountains in Mexico, and retreats to the desert. His passions are nature and women.

2 comments on “Bad Weather Game: Some of the Best There Is

  1. slight spelling mistake,

    “Ok then, lets go inside an talk our faces off.”

    I assume you mean “and” not “an”

    Great post.

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