All good things must come to an end. After 15 cities and 12 countries in 3 months, my euro romp came to a close. To re-fund this nomadic life, I found myself accepting a short term work contract in my most hated US city...San Francisco. ![[Image: dodgy.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/dodgy.gif)
Restless on a Wednesday in my $444 per night company expensed hotel room, I decided to try my luck downtown, at the hipster ridden Mission bar scene.
Hollered at a few flannel shirt wearing, nose ring wielding cuties. No dice. Either my swag was off, or they were feminicunts. I knew it couldn't be the first, because this was on my 6th day in a row with no lay. Switched gears to "is-there-a-good-sushi-place" street game opener;
Girl 1: "sorry, I'm vegan!".
Girl 2: "actually I'm waiting for my bf"
Girl 3: *death stare*
The mission isn't my target demo. I already knew that. But I remembered the elbo room has live bands. And I enjoy this. So I paid $10 cover to the bearded hoodie standing guard, and walked up the stairs of mystery.
En route, a scantily clad fatty brushed past me. Then a cougar in a corset checked me out up & down. Polka dot dresses in the corner...
Turns out I walked into burlesque night.
Now after seeing the show itself, my original title for this thread was going to be;
"Burlesque - When "Being a Stripper Just Ain't in the Cards, Honey" "
But before I could properly ponder this potential ROK debut... love walked into the room. Or rather, onto the stage.
Hottest girl in the show. Maybe the most naturally gifted I'd seen all week. Tall, blonde, germanic bombshell. All legs & tits. And at 25, way too young to be doing this.
I proceeded to suffer through hours of cringe worthy middle aged strip tease. Just to get a shot at gaming her afterwards.
But back to the torment. The show just never seemed to end. Like a midevil tourture rack. The victim was granted reprive only from passing out. Then "revived" by my defiled senses, via a fresh batch of hideous miscreations. Each inflicting her own personal brand of sadistic eye rape.
Are these women delusional? Nudists? It's certainly not a sexual thing. Although it was disguised as one.
No, contemporary burlesque is something more insideous. If attention whoring is a good looking womans game, then the validation fest that is burlesque represents a niche' channel for older, fatter, more exhibitionist matrons to say to each other that yes, you too are beautiful. All ages, shapes & sizes are sexy here. I have no problem with it. I say, let them eat cake.
I also say what's up to a cute brunette watching the show across from me. Her 3 skrillex haired friends quickly command her attention away. I go to the bar, to enjoy my suffering in solitude.
Aside from bombshell, there were 2 or 3 others I would describe as almost bangable with a stolen dick. The rest of the nights motley crew ranged from hideos, to at-least-shes-not-disfigured levels of quality.
No man would pay to see these women get naked in a proper strip club. Yet at "burlesque", flocks of supportive womyn and manginas whistled & cheered for these sunken wrecks of showgirl. They cheered in the name of equality. Cheers made of plastic gold participation trophies.
About when my psyche could take no more, blonde bombshell appears, amongst the commoners. Wearing a black garter, pasties, clear sky high heels, and a clownful of makeup on a near flawless face. She looks lost and pouty. Looking for something.
I roll up, calling her by her stage name. She smiles, and asks if I would help her with her accessories.
I was too blinded to recognize her instinctual frame setting. Went into problem solving man mode by autopilot, and began fixing. Hot girls don't learn game. What's the point when everything difficult is done for them magically.
Recognizing a need for frame reset, I got basic rapport out of the way, then gave her a couple backhanded compliments;
Me: "You were super sexy up there... are you new to dancing?"
Blonde: "Thanks. ive actuly been dancing since i was 5, why ?"
Me: "It was really hot. Just didnt look entirely comfortable..."
Blonde: *hamster spin*
I come to learn she recently finished grad school, earned too much money, and just started burlesque as a way to meet likeminded women. Eventually we connect over German travel. I have to wake up early to deliver a corporate presentation, and she has to dance again. I take her number, txt her my first & last name (no wink) and bounce. I wasn't expecting it to go anywhere.
The next morning, I wake up to a late night txt from her. Thanking me for seeing her show, with a smiley face no less. Sadly, the next day is always another universe as far as attraction goes. I hit her back later that afternoon. 2 words, "drink tonight?". No reply.
Later that night, restless in my hotel room, with no prospects and 7 days without orgasm, I contemplate jerking off. I've been porn clean a little over 1 year now. Maybe i've earned it to see if I can indulge without addiction?
Then a txt from blonde. She's asked what I'm up to.![[Image: banana.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/new/banana.gif)
I txt her to meet me at the Press Club lounge in SOMA. Bit of a high roller play, but a dope fresh spot.
Her: "ugh. I'm already halfway home. Im so cold. My apt Its soooo clooose. Sorry"
This txt should have been nail in the coffin for the night, but my reply turned out master stroke;
"Your apt can work, but only of you're serving warm tea"
Bit of a hail mary, but I figured it gave her plausible deniability, warm vibes, and a total re-frame. 15 minutes passed. Then;
Her: "Haha. Ok, but I have to clean up first"
I now had this chicks home address after 3 txts and a 5 minute in person conversation.
Trolley ride up there. Rice-a-Roni style. Then out of nowhere, she txts me "sorry, but I'm about to fall asleep".![[Image: icon_eek.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/new/icon_eek.gif)
I've lost late night bangs this way before, in the final minutes. I txt her to come outside, suggesting I'm already there, but it's just a tactic to ensure she doesn't go to sleep as I trek cross town.
I finally arrive, and she's freezing in a tank top and shorts outside. I can see her frozen little nipples on their DD platforms, poking through her pink shirt. Thin girl, with curves in the right places. I feel even more attracted now than when she had the whole burlesque getup on. No tantrum for waiting either.
Inside she serves tea in the kitchen, but she's a little nervous. I begin mission make her laugh. Her nerves eventually settle. I suggest a body massage, as payment for making her wait outside in the cold. She thinks that's a great idea.
Massage + neck kiss = white cotton panties down around her ankles. No resistance. I slide in with ease, and bang her proper for the rest of the night. Despite dancing on stage half naked, she is hardly experienced with sex, and takes great pleasure in being taught nasty new things. True or not, the sentiment turns me on immensely. I crash at her place.
Next morning we hop the Russian Hill bus heading downtown, and am surprised to find myself surrounded by super hot girls. All have long beautiful hair in their 20's. I have officially discovered this is where the true 9's & 10's hide out in this city.
3 days later, I'm *still* staying with this chick. Writing this post from her pink apt. My work contract is remote from laptop, and I have no permanent address. Free agency allows for such spontaneous arrangements.
As Roosh says, "this is freedom". Maybe we'll see some redwood trees later, or go wine tasting this weekend. Or maybe we'll get sick of each other, and I'll fly to Miami for the winter. We hardly know each other yet. But it's unlikely an ultra progressive, hot girl like this girl is gonna ever cook, or give me a foot massage. At least not like my Eastern European girls did.
So my future in San Francisco is uncertain. For now, I'm enjoying the novelty of the situation.
The main point I hope to impart in closing, is that I decided to make the most of my own personal worst city. It took every effort to leave my comfort zone, and pound pavement. Especially knowing the lack of sweet, sour taste womyn Man Francisco presents me with. But for now, I'm enjoying the treat
![[Image: dodgy.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/dodgy.gif)
Restless on a Wednesday in my $444 per night company expensed hotel room, I decided to try my luck downtown, at the hipster ridden Mission bar scene.
Hollered at a few flannel shirt wearing, nose ring wielding cuties. No dice. Either my swag was off, or they were feminicunts. I knew it couldn't be the first, because this was on my 6th day in a row with no lay. Switched gears to "is-there-a-good-sushi-place" street game opener;
Girl 1: "sorry, I'm vegan!".
Girl 2: "actually I'm waiting for my bf"
Girl 3: *death stare*
The mission isn't my target demo. I already knew that. But I remembered the elbo room has live bands. And I enjoy this. So I paid $10 cover to the bearded hoodie standing guard, and walked up the stairs of mystery.
En route, a scantily clad fatty brushed past me. Then a cougar in a corset checked me out up & down. Polka dot dresses in the corner...
Turns out I walked into burlesque night.
Now after seeing the show itself, my original title for this thread was going to be;
"Burlesque - When "Being a Stripper Just Ain't in the Cards, Honey" "
But before I could properly ponder this potential ROK debut... love walked into the room. Or rather, onto the stage.
Hottest girl in the show. Maybe the most naturally gifted I'd seen all week. Tall, blonde, germanic bombshell. All legs & tits. And at 25, way too young to be doing this.
I proceeded to suffer through hours of cringe worthy middle aged strip tease. Just to get a shot at gaming her afterwards.
But back to the torment. The show just never seemed to end. Like a midevil tourture rack. The victim was granted reprive only from passing out. Then "revived" by my defiled senses, via a fresh batch of hideous miscreations. Each inflicting her own personal brand of sadistic eye rape.
Are these women delusional? Nudists? It's certainly not a sexual thing. Although it was disguised as one.
No, contemporary burlesque is something more insideous. If attention whoring is a good looking womans game, then the validation fest that is burlesque represents a niche' channel for older, fatter, more exhibitionist matrons to say to each other that yes, you too are beautiful. All ages, shapes & sizes are sexy here. I have no problem with it. I say, let them eat cake.
I also say what's up to a cute brunette watching the show across from me. Her 3 skrillex haired friends quickly command her attention away. I go to the bar, to enjoy my suffering in solitude.
Aside from bombshell, there were 2 or 3 others I would describe as almost bangable with a stolen dick. The rest of the nights motley crew ranged from hideos, to at-least-shes-not-disfigured levels of quality.
No man would pay to see these women get naked in a proper strip club. Yet at "burlesque", flocks of supportive womyn and manginas whistled & cheered for these sunken wrecks of showgirl. They cheered in the name of equality. Cheers made of plastic gold participation trophies.
About when my psyche could take no more, blonde bombshell appears, amongst the commoners. Wearing a black garter, pasties, clear sky high heels, and a clownful of makeup on a near flawless face. She looks lost and pouty. Looking for something.
I roll up, calling her by her stage name. She smiles, and asks if I would help her with her accessories.
![[Image: whip.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/new/whip.gif)
Recognizing a need for frame reset, I got basic rapport out of the way, then gave her a couple backhanded compliments;
Me: "You were super sexy up there... are you new to dancing?"
Blonde: "Thanks. ive actuly been dancing since i was 5, why ?"
Me: "It was really hot. Just didnt look entirely comfortable..."
Blonde: *hamster spin*
I come to learn she recently finished grad school, earned too much money, and just started burlesque as a way to meet likeminded women. Eventually we connect over German travel. I have to wake up early to deliver a corporate presentation, and she has to dance again. I take her number, txt her my first & last name (no wink) and bounce. I wasn't expecting it to go anywhere.
The next morning, I wake up to a late night txt from her. Thanking me for seeing her show, with a smiley face no less. Sadly, the next day is always another universe as far as attraction goes. I hit her back later that afternoon. 2 words, "drink tonight?". No reply.
Later that night, restless in my hotel room, with no prospects and 7 days without orgasm, I contemplate jerking off. I've been porn clean a little over 1 year now. Maybe i've earned it to see if I can indulge without addiction?
Then a txt from blonde. She's asked what I'm up to.
![[Image: banana.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/new/banana.gif)
I txt her to meet me at the Press Club lounge in SOMA. Bit of a high roller play, but a dope fresh spot.
Her: "ugh. I'm already halfway home. Im so cold. My apt Its soooo clooose. Sorry"
This txt should have been nail in the coffin for the night, but my reply turned out master stroke;
"Your apt can work, but only of you're serving warm tea"
Bit of a hail mary, but I figured it gave her plausible deniability, warm vibes, and a total re-frame. 15 minutes passed. Then;
Her: "Haha. Ok, but I have to clean up first"
I now had this chicks home address after 3 txts and a 5 minute in person conversation.
Trolley ride up there. Rice-a-Roni style. Then out of nowhere, she txts me "sorry, but I'm about to fall asleep".
![[Image: icon_eek.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/new/icon_eek.gif)
I've lost late night bangs this way before, in the final minutes. I txt her to come outside, suggesting I'm already there, but it's just a tactic to ensure she doesn't go to sleep as I trek cross town.
I finally arrive, and she's freezing in a tank top and shorts outside. I can see her frozen little nipples on their DD platforms, poking through her pink shirt. Thin girl, with curves in the right places. I feel even more attracted now than when she had the whole burlesque getup on. No tantrum for waiting either.
Inside she serves tea in the kitchen, but she's a little nervous. I begin mission make her laugh. Her nerves eventually settle. I suggest a body massage, as payment for making her wait outside in the cold. She thinks that's a great idea.
Massage + neck kiss = white cotton panties down around her ankles. No resistance. I slide in with ease, and bang her proper for the rest of the night. Despite dancing on stage half naked, she is hardly experienced with sex, and takes great pleasure in being taught nasty new things. True or not, the sentiment turns me on immensely. I crash at her place.
Next morning we hop the Russian Hill bus heading downtown, and am surprised to find myself surrounded by super hot girls. All have long beautiful hair in their 20's. I have officially discovered this is where the true 9's & 10's hide out in this city.
3 days later, I'm *still* staying with this chick. Writing this post from her pink apt. My work contract is remote from laptop, and I have no permanent address. Free agency allows for such spontaneous arrangements.
As Roosh says, "this is freedom". Maybe we'll see some redwood trees later, or go wine tasting this weekend. Or maybe we'll get sick of each other, and I'll fly to Miami for the winter. We hardly know each other yet. But it's unlikely an ultra progressive, hot girl like this girl is gonna ever cook, or give me a foot massage. At least not like my Eastern European girls did.
So my future in San Francisco is uncertain. For now, I'm enjoying the novelty of the situation.
The main point I hope to impart in closing, is that I decided to make the most of my own personal worst city. It took every effort to leave my comfort zone, and pound pavement. Especially knowing the lack of sweet, sour taste womyn Man Francisco presents me with. But for now, I'm enjoying the treat
![[Image: thumb.gif]](https://rooshvforum.network/images/smilies/new/thumb.gif)