The Beginning, Part II: Daygame Breakthrough

Part I here

Another set to nowhere

This is Part II of how I got started with daygame. I pick up from where Part I left off. To recap:

  • I’d just burned the boats (namely nightgame and online game), and was about to fully commit to daygame.
  • I’d recently returned to London, and had started a new job.
  • Abundance was low: I had no leads, no regulars, and, with the exception of a recent Bumble bang [1], I hadn’t had sex in a couple of months.
  • But I was determined to learn daygame and get good at it no matter what!

I’m not one of those people who “needs” to get laid. This might explain why I don’t put up with bitchy behaviour from girls. Or why I don’t get into relationships easily. Or why I often choose not to follow up with my +1s. It might also explain why I didn’t jump right into daygame with both feet, even after cutting off other options to get my end away. As it happened, I coaxed myself in gently, with the help of a friend and wing.

A good mate of mine, “Maximus“, who’s been daygaming in London on-and-off for a few years now, suggested winging together sometime. We’d met in early 2015, at an RSD Todd FreeTour [2], and had remained friends since. We’d taken different paths in game–I went down the nightgame and the RSD route; whereas he chose the London daygame path (and, for a time, 4 Week Natural)–but we would cross paths and check-in with each other regularly. Maximus had recently been seeing a hot Ukrainian girl who he’d met on the streets of London in 2017. I wanted in on that kind of daygame action!

Anyway, come April this year, and with his Ukrainian girl back in Kiev, Maximus invited me out to wing with him in Westfield Mall, Stratford, one rainy Saturday afternoon. This was the day I would do my first daygame approaches of this new undertaking. It also became the day I would get my first daygame number, and predictably, my first daygame flake. So nothing too momentous, but the important thing was that I was off the mark.

For the next few weeks, I’d go out with Maximus one-to-two days per week, usually at the weekend. We’d trudge along the standard London daygame route: Oxford Street–>Carnaby Street–>Piccadilly–>Leicester Square–>Covent Garden. In a typical session, we’d tend to alternate approaches and reach 10 each.

At first it felt very regimented and I was never quite at ease, probably because I was still adjusting to approaching girls during the daytime, but perhaps also because I was largely following a wing’s routine. At this stage I was also following the ‘James Tusk’ model, which was fairly direct and didn’t feel congruent to me.

A few days after approaching this air hostess, I would go on to get LMR from her. Still hurts to this day, waaaah!

However, I did get some early sexcess, and my first daygame lay came quite early on. This was going to be easy, I thought. Wrong!

I added in one or two evening sessions per week with another wing: “Am-Star”. Although the extra sessions helped build momentum and increase references, I still felt like my daygame level was way below my previous nightgame level. I didn’t seem to be fully expressing myself, or fully “letting go”: in summary, I wasn’t bringing my A-game.

Looking back, I can say that my scant results were a result of “just turning up and getting the references in”, and dogmatically following other coaches’ prescribed methods. I also seemed to be experiencing the downside of date variance (e.g. multiple LMRs, failed bounce-backs, etc), which obviously doesn’t help during spells like this!

But rather than do the sensible thing and stand back and diagnose, I just blindly increased my intensity of approaching. I would be like a robot: (1) Get into set; (2) Attempt to attract girl; (3) Attempt to number-close girl; (4) …And then get out! I ascribe this to be the reason for my lack of sexccesses over my next ~250 sets. During this period, my vibe was often very “off” [3], and I rarely wanted to be out there doing the sets. I filmed and recorded some sets with Am-Star, which exposed my many shortcomings. Watching myself back was a very humbling experience!

In summertime the daygamers were out in droves. Occasionally a wing would point out a more competent daygamer on the streets who was getting regular results, such as Thomas Crown, or Mr White [4]. I’d wonder to myself what they were doing differently. Whereas they were blogging about their +1s, I just seemed to be muddling along, stuck in a plateau.

My long-term view was that I just had to get more daytime references in, and success would inevitably follow. And so I kept on grinding, putting in about 30 forced sets per week. During this period I was starting to learn (the hard way) that vibe in daygame was everything.

From sets 70 to 320, daygame had been far from great

One evening, after I’d had yet another girl back in my bed give me LMR, I lay down exhausted and reflected. I’d been treating daygame so seriously that I’d been neglecting other areas of my life. I hadn’t contacted my family in some time, I hadn’t seen my non-game mates for months, and had been disregarding other key areas of my life. More worryingly, I’d forgotten how to have fun. I’d been focusing so much on upping my cumulative approaches that I’d laid everything else by the wayside.

Turning Point

One evening in August I planned to take a night off with Am-star. This would be the much-needed break we both needed. Instead of banging our heads against the wall getting rejected by girls, we decided to shoot some pool at a King’s Cross pool hall and then go for a pizza afterwards. This was supposed to be a complete night off, where we put game and girls to the back of our minds, and just recharge doing other things. And it seemed to be working wonders: for the first time in weeks I was laughing out loud and feeling unburdened. We weren’t even focused too much on the games of pool, instead just pranking around.

I carried my feel-good vibes with me to outside the pizza place, where we were waiting for Am-Star’s winggirl, (who was going to join us for food). Suddenly I spotted a super cute 22-year-old Brazilian walk past, and although we’d agreed this was going to be a night off, I couldn’t help but give chase and approach with my rediscovered positive energy. She had been travelling back to her nearby student accommodation. My fun and carefree approach seemed to win her over, and she was happy to join us for pizza. She turned out to be my third daygame lay and we also developed a mini, week-long romance, before she had to fly back to Brazil. Jamie had found his vibe again.

This was the jump-start I needed, and a big turning point in my daygame journey. Soon after this, I was opening far more organically, and I no longer felt dread or fear when heading out for daygame. I was having fun with my game again and treating it less like a gym session. I was even starting to do (and relish doing) entire solo sessions.

I scrapped some of the prescribed methods I’d been adopting from certain YouTube instructors, and I reverted back to doing what had been working for me for years. I began to trust and take more responsibility in my own style and system. I was going back to what had gotten me results during nightgame the years before, discarding the daygame elements which felt incongruent to me: things like the front-stop, the directness, etc.

Right around this time, Todd (now Todd V, after parting ways with RSD), had just released a new product: The System. I gorged on this, and absorbed all the new theory, and infield. I re-incorporated a lot of his teachings into my own game, such as his aloof style, his disqualification techniques, and many of his lines and frames. I then dug out his old products, and spent time revisiting those parts I really identified with, once again incorporating these into my game [5].

I was also really warming to Bradicus‘s carefree and normal-guy style of game. When Am-Star got a SDL one harmless Tuesday evening after work (using Todd- and Bradicus-style methods), I was convinced this was the direction I wanted my game to go in.

August onwards, my daygame experience just kept getting better and better. From that point, I can’t remember a single daygame session where I was downbeat. I finally took 100% ownership, and realised that I didn’t have to change my earlier style much at all in order to meet and attract girls during the day. Another, and probably bigger, realisation I had: vibe management is everything!! My results went from strength to strength for the last few months of the year. I was often venturing out in the evening for dusk-game, practically prowling the streets for sex. I was eagerly-anticipating every session, finding any excuse to go out, usually solo. I was becoming a daygame “degenerate”.

When not solo, I was winging with Mr S, who I’d met later in the year at a Tom Torero meetup. I was really enjoying our sessions together and, although our styles differed, Mr S’s similar desire to learn and improve, along with his positive vibe and attitude, helped inspire me to take even more action. I was back in the game.

Towards the end of the year, it finally felt like I was achieving my goal: to sustainably meet, attract (and have sex with!) girls during the daytime [6].

As always, thanks for reading!

Jamie.

[1] And with a 6, I’m reluctant to add–who had deceived me with old photos. Upon meeting her, I considered aborting the date for all of five seconds…and then my raging horniness prevailed.

[2] This was a great few days of gaming theory from Todd. Two days after the FreeTour, I attended the 10-hr-long $300 Todd Hotseat event at the Hilton Tower Bridge. Wow–such a valuable event: locked in a room, watching raw, unedited infield footage from Todd, who meticulously broke down every step. I scribbled down notes furiously, and turned it into a 12 page pdf doc, which formed the foundations of my style of game, much of what I still employ today.

[3] During these weeks, wings observed and remarked upon my infamous “disdain face”–which I’d fail to conceal when leaving sets where the girl was unavailable. Grumpy Jamie.

[4] I can now put a face to the name of many London daygame bloggers. But I’m still yet to identify the lay machine himself: Mr Roy Walker.

[5] Things like framing myself as the prize, disqualifying a lot, and full two-minute monologues, where I spell out (and encourage) both the desired behaviour I want from her, and the underlying desired frame for our interaction.

[6] Actually, many of my opens towards the end of the year were during those golden hours after sunset, when the interactions seem to take a more sexual undertone.

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LR: Rewind: My First Daygame Lay

I’ve been working some tiring hours this week. And with it being cold and rainy outside, I’ve been heading home straight afterwards. Sounds boring, right? Well, yes and no. This has given me the perfect opportunity to hole up and type up the LR of my first ever daygame lay. After all, momentous occasions such as these shouldn’t go unreported. Right, let’s go!

11 May 2018

Rewind back to earlier this year in Spring. Back when the sun was still making appearances and nighttime didn’t fall at 4.30pm. It was Friday evening and I’d just met my buddy outside his office in the City. The days were really lengthening now, and so we leisurely strolled in to central London, shooting the shit and looking to open any girls that took our fancy.

For the first time since I started daygaming I didn’t feel nervous travelling in to central London. After spending two weeks finding my daygame groove, I’d finally found some consistency. I’d done 40 sets in the last seven days–I’d finally caught the bug and was hitting the streets with regularity.

In addition to that, just the night before (on the Thursday) I’d been on a date with a legit 8.5. I’m pretty sure she’s the hottest girl I’ve ever been on a date with, even to this day. How my newbie daygame ability ever got her out, I’ll never know! Even though she didn’t accept the bounce-back to mine after two venues, I was still feeling pretty abundant.

Back to the Friday itself with my wing, and we’ve pretty much reached the end of Carnaby street now, opening one or two sets each up to this point. We’re now outside Pret a Manger. All of a sudden, to my right I spy a studenty-looking girl, wearing a black leather jacket and black skinny jeans, complete with black backpack. She’s a brunette and she’s a few inches shorter than me. I cut-off what I’m saying to my wing, spin around and front-stop her [1] before she can get away. I deliver my opener, directly and confidently, James Tusk-style (at least in my head it was).

Just add a daygamer, and tourist-with-backpack

She’s initially overwhelmed, but boy! is she holding eye contact well. Grinning and with eyes lit-up, she looks very in-the-moment and she gives every indication that talking to strangers is normal for her: a daygamer’s dream. She hits me with a sexy Spanish accent, and I vibe off that with some standard stacking and assumption-making. She seems content standing there with me, in the middle of Carnaby Street, with the busy Friday evening crowd passing by.

As I learn more about her, I imagine she would have been the hot alternative girl at college, who didn’t have many girl friends and instead hung out with the skater boys. I become more badass and ramp up the sub-communications. She seems unperturbed by my proximity and sexual undertones. She accepts the minor compliance of me moving in, and she’s holding my lusting eye contact.

Another minute together and she opens up verbally. This includes her becoming quite testy, which makes sense when I discover she’s a student lawyer, studying back in Spain. I also find out she’s only 20; she doesn’t bother asking my age. A promising sign. She goes on to explain that she’s been in London for a few days while on a break from uni. She decided to travel solo and explore London. Right now she’s going to attempt to find a place to eat in Chinatown, but apart from that doesn’t have any plans. Ding ding ding!!

At this point in the set, every man and his dog knows what to do: just stay with her, preferably leading, and then just don’t fuck up! Unfortunately, during the newbie stage of my daygame journey, I had success barriers, and would inexplicably make things hard for myself. So instead of doing the right thing, I take the easy way out: I number-close her and go back to my wing, even describing to him how “on” she seemed, but that “I didn’t want to join her for dinner in Chinatown“. DURRRRRR!!!! [2] I look back at this error now and hang my head in shame. “But I was just trying to get the sets in! I didn’t want to eat with her” I rationalised to myself afterwards. Damn, I must be gay or something… 

Four good-energy sets later, and I find myself sat in Subway at Charing Cross with my wing, trying not to make eye contact with him as he’s chomping away on a footlong. I begin to scroll through my WhatsApp contacts, searching for the two new numbers I’ve collected this evening. Up to this point I’m pretty much settled on making my way home, lying in bed, and reading, possibly with some Pornhub first. Then I locate the Spanish student lawyer in my contacts list. I see a small thumbnail pic and I have to do a double take. Wait…that can’t be… I view it full size. And my eyes nearly pop out.

It seems the corny black ninja line can work!

Well well well… what doooo we have here? There’s an awful lot of flesh showing in her profile pic. I’m taken aback. On one hand I’m immediately very horny, but on the other I’m thinking very logically through the social consequences of having this type of a profile pic: is her father on WhatsApp–can he see this picture? Is her grandma on WhatsApp? I show my wing, who first looks down at the picture, then up, and then back down again. We turn our heads towards each other and lock eyes in silence. My wing rests his eyelids and nods to me. I understand. And so I take my phone, and I begin typing a message. So many green lights from this girl already. I’ve really had the blinders on here. Can I claw my way back from the Island of Ignorance? Well, I have to at least try. And now. No more waiting. I also recall her saying in the set that she was leaving tomorrow. Why are you only realising the significance of this now?? Wake up FFS Jamie!! After pressing Send I sit there stewing, kicking myself for not manning up and idating her, while my wing teases relentlessly. Shit. Opportunities like this don’t come around every day. And this is an opportunity that has surely gone now.

Less than 15 minutes later I see a double message preview in my notifications:

“Im like”

“Super lost”

I read it outside of the app on my notifications screen. A smile slowly creeps across my lips. Back in the game…perhaps? I decide to wait a few mins before replying. Not too eager-beaver, now, Jamie. Then, before I get the chance to reply, she sends another:

“Nice to meet you too”

Soon after this one, I reply, attempting to find out where in the city she is on a buzzing Friday night. When she replies “Waterloo Station“, I realise she’s just the other side of the Thames from me, only two Tube stops away. Bingo. My wing prompts me to call her for efficiency. I go for it, but the signal is poor and all I can hear is a muffled voice on the other end.

I realise the window of opportunity has reopened, but it likely won’t remain that way for long. At this point I try to encourage her via WhatsApp to come to me at Charing Cross. There follows a very confused back-and-forth. She’s messaging in a frenzy and soon sucker-punches me with “I have to go to hostel“. At this point I open up the profile picture again. Not only the raw sexuality of her naked flesh, but also the fact that she’s willing to overstep social boundaries and post this picture for the world to see, spurs me on to pursue her and to not give up. I decide to travel to her. And immediately. This is my only chance. My wing wishes me good luck, and I start to move. To make sure I don’t lose Internet/4G connection, I decide to run across the Golden Jubilee footbridge to Waterloo. No Tube for this dashing Romeo, how romantic! [3]

I was frantically running across Golden Jubilee Bridge typing some of this

At Waterloo, she’s waiting for me under the giant clock in the middle, as requested. I’m out of breath and hardly bother hiding it–all that matters to me right now is that I’ve found her. She’s smiling but she seems in a bit of a state. I treat it like a re-approach, reminding myself that these things are never smooth, and I do the lion’s share of the talking.

Soon she’s at ease again, appearing more comfortable. And I’ve caught my breath. But we’re still stood under the clock in the middle of the concourse. And I still haven’t formulated a gameplan. Soon I’m forced to though, as she prompts: “So where are we going?” Her hostel is in Greenwich and I’m staying in a box room in a council estate flat in Shadwell. She’s mentioned about having to go back to her hostel to pack her bag a few times now. The good news is that Shadwell and Greenwich look close to each another on the Tube map. Both are on the DLR line. Given the green flags so far, and that she has to leave early in the morning, I decide on a Hail Mary:

“Since we’re both in South East London, let’s head in that direction for a drink. We can do my area or yours, but let’s do mine since it’s closer and it’s on the way anyway.”

The Waterloo & City line is still open and we first head to Bank, and then change for Shadwell on the DLR. In the train carriage she checks the tube map above my head to make sure I’m taking her to where I said I was. I casually ignore this and allow her to do her investigatory work. 

We get off at Shadwell DLR station and, with her appearing compliant and comfortable enough, I decide for the most direct strategy: straight back to mine. The pubs in the area are pretty dodgy, and on top of that I’m wearing a suit, which will make me stand out like a sore thumb. I grab wine from the corner shop, and am sure to be social with the chatty Bangladeshi guy behind the counter (I’ll take any opportunity to social-proof myself).

She’s still calm as we walk from the shop to my flat. My instincts appear to be on point so far: that a calibrated insta-pull can work with her. A few times I get the standard “How far is it?” and similar, but she’s not dragging her feet, and she’s keeping pace with me fine. During the walk back, through the forbidding back streets of East London, I reach for her hand and she accepts. These days I would be unlikely to hold hands en route during the pull, but looking back on the context (the dark, quiet streets in an unfamiliar neighbourhood), it may have actually been the “right move”.

Back at mine, a shared council estate flat in Shadwell, there’s a kitchen but no other communal rooms. In the kitchen I pour out two glasses wine. This turns out to be a pointless exercise as she decides to inform me (only at this point) that she doesn’t drink [4]. We then climb the stairs to my box room. Still no freaking out from her.

Up until this point, minus my initial errors of ejecting from the original set and also not messaging her sooner, it had been relatively smooth-sailing. I had her pegged as DTF and I really couldn’t believe my luck.  However, my fortunes were about to change.

Not your typical Venue One. My box room in Shadwell

In the close quarters of my room, which was barely wide enough to fit the small double bed in, we sit on the bed and she wriggles her bum to the opposite end and sits there cross-legged. I play music on my laptop, which helps the vibe, but unfortunately there’s no mood lighting–the main ceiling light is very bright and sobering. Okay, I can work with this I think. She’s just getting acquainted. Then comes something I can’t work with: she takes her phone out of her bag…and it’s blowing up with notifications.

Her face comes alive with excitement and she giggles away. She’s working through a backlog of 50-minutes-worth of missed messages and notifications. Every now and then she releases a shrill of laughter as something really tickles her. I had forgotten for a moment that she was a hot girl, who of course would have friends and wannabe lovers hitting her up on a Friday night.

She pays me minimal attention as she types messages, sends (and receives) voice notes (in Spanish), and watches her friends’ IG and Snapchat stories. Occasionally she fills me in with some small commentary about who the friend is and what is just so interesting about their conversation.

From what I could gather, I was dealing with three remote cockblocks:

  • her best girl friend–who was back in Spain. They were sending voice notes back-and-forth without delay, and my beginner Spanish told me they were discussing the-girl’s-and-my situation, as well as the-friend-and-her-boyfriend’s situation. Both of them found everything hilarious, tittering away in their voice notes.
  • an orbiter from Spain who she was messaging. She took great delight in telling me about him and how he had been pining over her.
  • a guy staying at her hostel in London who she’d met only that morning. He was messaging and trying to get her out. She told me that he was offering to pay for her taxi and club entrance. Shit! I desperately prayed he was a chode.

For one hour I had been feigning indifference and pretending to be busy on my laptop while engaging with her every now and then. Patience is usually a good Plan A in these situations, and I’d had plenty of experience playing waiting games before. Putting myself in her shoes, I figured she still wasn’t ready to give herself to me just yet–she had so much abundance at that moment and had been reaching astronomical levels of validation. She would surely want to hold on to the hot-girl-high for as possible.

One high-risk solution

A couple of times I tested the water, by gently sliding over, prodding her leg and teasing, or similar. Not much success with that though. She refused to comply with other minor requests, such as “come here, I want to see that” (*pats bed position for her to move to*). With each failed request my social capital fell. Also working against me was the lack of kino up till this point. She wasn’t a particularly touchy-feely person. She was very comfortable around me, but not so comfortable touching me. I didn’t have much of a launchpad to work off.

To get an alternative viewpoint in these kind of situations, I often ask myself: what would Derek do? I’ve met RSD Derek four times now, and he’s quite simply the frame master. Whatever he says, goes. He wouldn’t let a girl get away with this “disrespectful” behaviour, and she would know it. However, I wasn’t Derek. I was too invested. I could try to go nuclear on her, but I wanted this first daygame lay so badly. And so, perhaps predictably, I discounted the nuclear option!

Just as my patience was truly starting to wear thin (and I was considering throwing her phone out the window), she exclaimed to me that her best friend (the one she’d been sending voice notes to) had just just gone to bed. Hallelujah!! Praise the Lord! She acted mock-sad, and then all at once she diverted her attention back to me.

Eye contact was back. Full spoken sentences were back. And even some kino was back. We were sat closer together on the bed. After a little time I tested for the kiss. Playful tease rejection from her as she turns her head. Should have seen that one coming–too predictable Jamie! At this point I realise that two can play at this game, and with her phone now out of sight (and out of mind) I go into full seduction and tease mode. I move in for the ear. Whisper up close: “I just wanted to tell you a secret“. Nibble earlobe. Kiss the neck softly. Then bite it gently. I “drive-by” the lips and try to encourage her to escalate on me too. She’s definitely interested again and eventually we give up the game and kiss.

Soon after this, and with our time-since-entering-my-flat approaching three hours, the sexual tug-of-war is over, and I’m putting a condom on [5] before entering her. And at that point I realise that my first daygame lay is in the books. We only have one round–she’s not bothered about cumming and says she needs to get back to her hostel to pack her bag. I’m fine with that and order her an Uber. 

Uber driver’s game: “You’re beautiful”

As usual after any lay, I’m buzzing and replaying all the steps back in my mind. I write out a skeleton outline of a lay report (which became this post) and smile to myself. I was right to enjoy this one, because for the next month or so I was cursed with LMR!

Jamie.

[1] Undoubtedly at this stage my front-stop would’ve been jerky and uncalibrated. Even to this day, I haven’t mastered it.

[2] I really should have been punished for this mis-step. A simple-but-excellent nightgame rule is to just stay in set. However, it took me a while till I was applying it to daygame.

[3] Or desperate.

[4] No wonder she turned her nose up at the various alcohol options available at the corner shop.

[5] This little madam seemed more than happy to do it raw. But probably best to wrap up for this one, I thought.

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