When I went away to college one of the guys who lived in the apartment across the hall told me he had once been turned down ten times in a row asking women to dance at a nightclub. I got the impression the women were trying to kill him. Ostracizing people and solitary confinement have always been the worst of punishments, worse than flogging but not as bad as crucifixion. “Why don’t you just die?!?!?” is what they were telling him.
And all he was asking for was a dance.
I’ve always remembered what happened to him, just the way I remembered a woman who told me she had been asked out by seven guys one weekend. Talk about an imbalance. Something’s very wrong here.
I rapidly decided this imbalance was a bunch of nonsense and I was going to have no part of it. I had actually tried that dinner/movie/date stuff and thought, “Who invented this crap?”
Once, when I was about 20, one of my friends told me, “You know, you look just like one of those Cro-Magnon guys in the paintings.” His girlfriend chimed in and seconded him. “He’s right; you do.”
I looked at the painting in the book and looked in the mirror. Damn, he was right. I looked Cro-Magnon. Maybe even a little Neanderthal.
So I decided, fine, I look like a caveman, maybe I should act like one.
So, one day, when I was 21, I decided to try something different. I was living in an old house, in a room. It had a weird lock, with a latch on top. Push it one way, and when you closed the door, it locked. Push it the other way, and even if you closed the door it didn’t lock.
So I pushed the latch so it would lock, left the door ajar, went into the living room (I lived in a co-ed house), and asked the girl in there (who was by herself) if she would stand up for a minute because “I want to show you something.”
When she did, I picked her up, threw her over my shoulder (“What are you doing?!?!”) took her in my room, kicked the door shut (locked) with my heel and threw her on my bed, then jumped on her.
“What are you doing? Who do you think you are? You’re not going to touch me!” All empty words.
I ended up having my way with her with no problem at all. Although she wanted to – yech! – talk afterward, interfering with me trying to sleep.
Incidentally, this caveman stuff doesn’t work with fat girls, since I couldn’t pick them up, not that I ever tried.
I used this technique seven times, and it worked every time. Most of the girls I continued to see for a little while.
Obviously it works to kidnap a woman, caveman-style. Maybe John Norman is right with all that Slave Girls of Gor stuff.
Most women are not rational. They don’t even know what they want. But I found out, by trial and error, what worked and what didn’t. And it didn’t cost me a cent.
Besides, it worked for Clark Cable in “Gone with the Wind.”