Quote: (05-12-2013 12:13 PM)aphelion Wrote:  

Nothing's happening tonight. I'm checking in in 3 hours (booked airbnb starting tomorrow, owner will let me in early but not until 10pm) and I'm just beat. I travel pretty light and still have a heavy load.

Is there a way to avoid airbnb service charge? For my upcoming Eurotrip, I booked everything via booking.com since airbnb always charges a fee.

You can just backdoor it by booking one night officially but doing the rest under the table.

English penetration here is shockingly high. Hopefully American penetration will peak during my visit as well.

What do you mean by English penetration?

A lot of young people speak English passably. Lots of people speak it surprisingly well.

As for American penetration, well, I think we can solve that riddle too.

I'm finally seeing the magic of this place after walking around for a few hours. In America, you have to make every chance you get because that could literally be the last hot girl you see all day. Here there's very few bombshells, but you have to go quite a while before you see one under 26 that isn't fuckable.

Of course I am practically dead center of the university district..

Go out in the clubs smash them.Lets see how much an American Bull is worth.

Thirty eight hours after my boots hit the ground in Wroclaw, a naked girl makes me a sandwich. I think I'm done with American women.

Congrats!

Now share some useful details on how you made that happen.

He probably relies on internet contacts.

Keep the thread going. Wroclaw has a pretty good MMA/Jiu Jitsu scene so I'm definitely interested in the city.

Quote: (05-14-2013 04:44 AM)aphelion Wrote:  

Thirty eight hours after my boots hit the ground in Wroclaw, a naked girl makes me a sandwich. I think I'm done with American women.

I bow to you!

Good man but what is all this 'boots on the ground' rhetoric about that I keep seeing on the forum?.

Sorry guys, having computer problems due to wrong converter. Am trying to circumvent. In the meantime I will type on my phone a bit but will not make extensive notes.

Sandwich girl was a girl I met at Erasmus party at a club here. I never met her before that night.

I am cashing in on Internet contact tomorrow.

Met dontuan and will meet another contact here shortly. (Forget his username here)

Almost everything about this city is true.

Quote: (05-14-2013 03:25 PM)EU Explorer Wrote:  

Good man but what is all this 'boots on the ground' rhetoric about that I keep seeing on the forum?.

It's a common phrase. Using the phrase came into my mind and then I saw it somewhere else before I posted my update. I considered changing my wording but eventually decided it didn't matter.

I'm very depressed at the moment. I don't know why, it's probably hormonal and temporary. Probably should be doing some push-ups in the morning.

So. Here's a breakdown so far:

Day 1) hit the tarmac at 2PM or so local time after a long flight. I was bombed out and worn out, and I was having power issues with converters (not, for instance, understanding that I could plug my laptop straight into the wall with a little plug adapter and not the full blown transformer).

Day 2) After some limited sleep, I got in touch with a RVFer (identify yourself if you like) and we made plans to go to Club Alibi. For some reason everyone pronounces it A-lee-bee here, but whatever. We went fairly early - maybe 10 or so - and that's when the magic hit me.

I got onto the dance floor early, and my jaw dropped. You know those pictures where Roosh shows what a cockfest places like DC are? Well, this was the reverse. I stood in one spot, and counted 15 girls and 2 guys in my field of vision - the girls all slim and at least mildly pretty. The 2 guys were the DJs.

I ended up meeting a set of three friends and we all talked for a little while. The girls danced with me and surprisingly were able to follow my motions. They seemed to like us ok, so i brought us all back and got us drinks. It didn't turn out as well as we had hoped, though, and eventually I settled for one phone number.

We took a taxi back to club Mundo, where I saw a familiar-looking girl - she was the waitress from the bar near my apartment where I had chilled out waiting for my airbnb host the night before. Her friend was smoking hot - 8, blonde - and we ended up talking. I should have paid attention to the warning sign about them being interested in some local American football players (apparently Wroclaw has two American football teams - it must be real small potatoes stuff) back at Alibi. After we decided collectively to go try Alibi again (to be fair, it was pretty happening), the football player ran into us almost immediately and he moved to block us out of the conversation. Somehow, I was a head taller than this guy. Anyhow, I left that and went back to the dance floor, and never saw the girls again. Tactical error, but whatever.

I'd noticed a girl last time I was here - she was mildly pretty, and dancing with a tall skinny black kid and some other people. Eventually I saw her sitting alone, so I went and approached her and just made a little bit of chitchat and told her that I would like to dance with her later, and then left her. She smiled and seemed pleased while I inwardly wondered why I said such a dumb thing.

Nonetheless, I saw her later and we started dancing. She was surprisingly well behaved on the dance floor - not getting up into my face, couldn't kiss her there on the floor. Eventually I asked if she wanted to get a drink (chill out people, they're cheap here) and she agreed. I bought her a beer and me a shot and we sat down to chat. I was able to be very direct about complimenting her, I was able to be nice to her, and let her know that I was having a good time because of her. Somehow it works here.

We went back to the dance floor and I start dancing with her again, and again she's keeping a bit of distance. So I leave her a bit of space, and next thing I know she's dancing with some skinny kid with dreadlocks. I see it, let it go for a few minutes just dancing by myself, and her dancing is starting to heat up a little bit. I give a commanding 'come here' motion and she immediately comes over and starts dancing with me.

After a little while we go back to sit down, and are chitchatting a bit when (forum member #1) comes and lets us know he busted out for the evening and is heading out. I soon tell my new friend that I am hungry and would like to eat, and are there any good places to eat around here? She suggests McDonald's, and we split from the club (at 5AM) to go see if we can scrounge up some food.

Here I tell her (very directly) that I am enjoying spending time with her, and I would like to spend more time with her if she would like that, and we can go back to her place. She agrees. I love this country.

McD's is closed, and we go to the gas station next door instead. I get a hot dog and a bottle of wine. The hot dog is encased in a bread sock rather than a bun; the wine proves to be light and sweet. We hitch a free ride on the tram and bus down to her street, and we go in to her room. By this time she has still not kissed me, and I'm wondering what the hell is going on even though things are still promising.

We make it to her apartment, in a big house in a residential area. She shares her section of the house with two roommates, one of whom we saw as I came in. I wonder if she had to answer any questions about it. We go in and I lock the door behind us, and she opens up her laptop and turns on some reggae music.

We listen to a little music for awhile - I show her my cool band and everything - and then I lean in to kiss her. And she's enthusiastic, aggressive and fun.

Her clothes start to come off, and she says 'no sex'. I tell her that whatever she wants is fine and that I have been with enough women, so I do not need to have sex. Tsk tsk.

She leaves her underwear on, though I proceed to give her several orgasms by hand. She comes easily, leaving a smell of pussy that lingers on me throughout the next day.

I'm gentle but persistent, though - thanks Bang! - and an hour of orgasm, panties back on, kiss, another orgasm, etc. passes. She refuses a few more times, and I always go back to the same old saw - 'whatever you want is okay,' I tell her, and then back off a bit. Eventually she is ready to have sex, and

GOD DAMNIT

My dick won't go in without hurting her. I'm not exactly a death star in the cock department, so I don't know HOW it happened. We tried multiple times, and it just never seems to go in. She's wet, ready and I lube up a bit with some spit, but can't seem to put it in.

With this proving to be impossible for whatever reason, I resort to dirty shit, and she gets a finger in the ass which makes her moan. I dump a huge load on her legs and she smears it all over.

So, no notch. I claim moral victory, but we're stuck at #18 for a moment.

She then gets up to make me a sandwich. American women, fuck you.

I ask her, 'I am enjoying being with you, and I want to stay, but I know you will be busy today and I will leave when you need me to.' She asks me to stay for a little while longer, and I leave her place at 10AM. She had class at noon. What a trooper.

She's a sweet girl. Not once did we have a little argument, not once did she challenge me. The only 'test' that she gave me was dancing with the guy, and given that Polish guys practically grab girls at the club to dance with (it's fucking mind blowing), it's probably excusable to some degree. I felt comfortable with her, I felt able to be honest about my intentions and I felt like I could compliment her and say nice things to her without being penalized. In short, everything that American women are not. Plus, sandwich.

More to come soon.

Quote: (05-16-2013 03:44 AM)aphelion Wrote:  

...We hitch a free ride on the tram and bus down to her street, and we go in to her room. By this time she has still not kissed me, and I'm wondering what the hell is going on even though things are still promising.

We make it to her apartment, in a big house in a residential area [...] We listen to a little music for awhile - I show her my cool band and everything - and then I lean in to kiss her. And she's enthusiastic, aggressive and fun.

what's the point of kissing in public? true, sexual moves are arousing and feel really nice for both but you can't take that further in the tram/bus/bar/cafe/mall/park/etc. holding hands [very intimate] or neck kisses are better.

you're fine. instead of trying to escalate sexually just play with sexual tension and keep the anticipation alive until you're in private place where your sexual advances can smoothly lead to taking clothes off and intimacy.

PS. yeah girls like to make breakfast/sanchwiches

Yeah. I read some comments on how some highly effective Don Juans either kiss once or not at all during the date, letting the anticipation build a bit. I flamed out a lot in 2012 by making out with girls in clubs quickly, and then nothing went anywhere afterward.

I was confused, but I knew based on reading those perspectives that it wasn't a disaster. So I just kept my cool and held on for the ride.

well, i didn't mean it's totally black and white cause truth is when 1) girls kisses you back and 2) you KNOW you CAN end up in private place VERY SOON then escalating hard is fine. on summer vacations i was wild gaming girls near my place cause we could go there to drink/chill right away so they had no time to cool down. but in the typical situations when your place is farther away then it's better to keep it on the low IMO.

as for signals, the way i see it, when a girl gets really attracted, [unless she's really drunk], she doesn't show it. she becomes stiff, excited, self conscious, attentive, anxious, compliant, all at the same time. similar to boy standing next to his high school crush he's into. so just because the girl's there with you and follows your lead that's all you need [compliance]. overwhelming her with too much arousal may cause her to "overdose" it and.. hmm.. die haha aka get too satisfied/validated which makes the pickup too predictable and boring. not to mention that girls have their own issues about sexuality kissing etc.

best way to amp up the tension and convey it's going somewhere is to almost kiss her saying "not here". i love it

Quote: (05-16-2013 10:03 AM)XXL Wrote:  

best way to amp up the tension and convey it's going somewhere is to almost kiss her saying "not here". i love it

Gold star, sir. Will be applying that tonight. Hotornot date on the horizon.

Well done. Technically not a notch I guess, but probably one you can convert soon if you keep trying.

Can you describe the city a bit? Is it a nice city? Industrial style? It's a University city, right? Lots of restaurants and places to eat?

Keep the thread goin. Very entertaining.

It's really nice. Rynek (Market Square) has architecture straight out of a storybook. It's pretty clean, and you always feel safe. There's tons of restaurants and dance clubs and other things to do.

Oh, one more thing I forgot to mention. The first girl - fucking Phenibut again. Three times now it's resulted in me getting action one way or another.

More to come.

Day 3) After some limited sleep, preceded by a several-mile walk back at ten o'clock from the sandwich artist's place until I can finally flag down a taxi, I'm physically destroyed. My hip hurts, the pain exacerbated by the obnoxious cobblestone that's on every sidewalk and street; the soles of my shoes are thin, and properly communicate the texture of the jagged stones beneath.

I smell like sex, though I've tried to rinse it clean at her place. The weather is uncharacteristically bright, and I'm such a good mood despite the pain that I can't help but throw my arms out Titanic-style, as though I'm soaring on top of the world with Leonardo DiCaprio's slender but sure arms holding me safe and stable.

Er.

Well anyway. Let's flash back to the morning before. I walk by the Wroclaw Zoo, over bridges perhaps half a kilometer long. Can't be bothered to check how many decimal points I'm off, but it can't be many. I'm mulling over the course of the evening as it went, wondering whether my good mood would have been similar had I successfully lateraled a one-night stand on an American girl.

I thought back to a girl I'd recently had sex with - I wouldn't have called it a score - under a Phenibut haze, leading me to wonder whether the drug also had the properties of increasing one's willingness to have sex along with its inhibition reducers. (Perhaps it reduced one's inhibitions against having sex with unqualified partners?) She bit like crazy during sex, which caused me to quit fucking her after several warnings. In the morning she insisted on turning on some terrible television show despite me wanting to sleep off my hangover, then begged me to order a pizza for lunch before I left. Uh, no.

I concluded that there were elements of my good mood that were not directly related to just (almost) having sex, and my mood improved when I finally saw a taxi parked at an empty, featureless intersection. I hailed it, and after haltingly explaining where to go and we fell into the awkward silence of ill communication, I heard the song on the radio.

"Livin' In America." Snort.

Back in th' present I showered again, somehow still unable to get the sweet scent of young vagina off of me, and crashed into an exhausted and interrupted sleep at 11:30AM. Unable to sleep past 4, I woke up and staggered around the apartment for a little while until I shoot dontuan another text asking how he did. He'd come and knucklebumped me at 5AM shortly before I brought Little Miss Sandwich Artist home, and my assumption is that nothing came of his night.

I'd been set to meet Kasia today, my Badoo contact, but she'd rescheduled it back a few days due to severe period pains. Her frowny face and eagerness to reschedule intimated that she was sincere, and I was happy to accommodate her needs.

BETA

Dontuan gets back to me, and we sync our plans and agree to hit the Starbucks in Rynek, and I reluctantly gird my loins for another death march. The minimal amount of rest helped, however, and I seem to be a little less sore than before. I'm dressed in a brown suit jacket, with a scarf, shiny belt buckle and stylish jeans, and ultra-tight t-shirt.

Dontuan is a short Asian man, dressed in the most completely ordinary outfit I've ever seen. If you came up with an image of a pickup artist, he'd be the exact opposite of that image in every demeanor possible. He's fast talking, enthusiastic about approaches, and communicates strictly in English even to Poles. If he's getting laid, let's just say he's doing something right.

It's the second time he's been to Wroclaw, after a poosy non-paradise tour of Europe and Costa Rica, and he's parked it here for awhile. We chill for awhile, discussing Roosh and American women. He indicates that his night didn't go well, that he'd been so impressed with my partner dance game that he'd overextended himself trying to work that angle on his own girl until things fell through. We're set to hit Mundo that night, and I'm looking forward to it. Until reality hits.

Holy Christ. Club Mundo is a student's club, and a feminist's hell; populated by short-skirted girls and the thirsty guys surrounding them. I've never seen such behavior in a club before - the guys would physically grab the girls and force them to dance with them, or even steal girls away from other guys. That's some stabbing shit in America, but here it's de rigeur. Needless to say, the girls loved it, and I had to once again recalibrate internal sensors and study what was going on here rather than to dismiss it outright. But at the heart of things I wasn't comfortable with the idea of just dragging a girl into my orbit, and it wasn't long before I started to decide that this place wasn't for me.

The night didn't go too productively. Some Polish guy, shorter than me by a head and wearing a soccer jersey, stood directly in front of me and started talking in Polish, grabbing my scarf and lightly hitting me in the face with it. I presume he was questioning my sexuality. You can't insult with words someone who doesn't understand you, though, and so I simply stood there grinning as if I thought he was being funny - standing quite tall above him, mind you. A few drinks in and I'm still not buzzed enough to not give a shit about my abhorrence of Polish rape culture. (Hey Lindy West, where's your outrage.) And while a vaguely cute shorty pulls me aside and wants to talk to me, insisting that she give her my Facebook and text her so she can show me the city, I don't make any further progress with her after she's pulled into the meat grinder on the dance floor. Likely she spent the evening receiving kielbasa, and what can you do about that. She ended up adding me on Facebook anyway, but three ignored messages later I deleted her.

Vowing never again to go to Mundo, I bid dontuan goodnight and left him to the jungle to trudge back to my apartment.

In retrospect I DEFINITELY should have texted shorty. I didn't remember taking her number though. May have cost me a notch.

Next time: Playing With Fire, and Invasion From Spain