A couple of posts ago commenter tried to suggest to me that my dating life is simple, something along the lines of either I want a good girl for a long term fling or you don’t. I honestly wish things were THAT simple but the truth is that I’m a complicated guy and from what I’ve observed with deep conversations over whisky with my team is that most guys who know game develop what may seem to be contradictory wants when it comes to the women we consider dating seriously. Our taste become acquired so the “simple good” girl we might have fallen for and wifed up in our early 20’s don’t hold the same sway at our 30’s as they once did. Speaking for myself. I constantly travel between different scenes and environments here in the D.M.V. My night can start at U street on a rooftop and somehow end in a club in Midtown area or on K street. I could start at a dive bar in Arlington and end up in a hotel bar in California. Many in my entourage are able to quickly adapt and that’s how we roll. I know deep down in my heart that I could never be with a club rat, the kind of girl that dances on couches, tables and bars for attention. Who air kisses bouncers, club promoters, DJ’s and seems to know everyone in the club. Who spends most of the night in VIP drinking of “friends” bottles.

The do-gooder and I have been seeing each other for about a month now. She doesn’t consider herself a “girly girl”, prefers to hangout in non pretentious bars, wearing comfortable clothes and blacking out like a tomboy. Which is fine, but I wanted to see her in a different environment. A couple of weekends ago it was my workout buddy the degenerate’s birthday. He decided to do it simple and meet up with friends for drinks at a club in DC. Now it must be said, The Degenerates GF, T is straight silly. A pure bread nightlife princess. Born in Germany she grew up competing in VA beauty pageants, modeling, and doing promotions for a local sports team. Her friend who I often flirted with and has the same pedigree came along with us in my car. Right off the back do-gooder and T’s friend clashed partially over me on the ride to the club. I heard her and T whispering among themselves in the back. Now the do-gooder was dressed straight, sexy black dress, hair done, high heels makeup. But from the start it was obvious that she was nervous and soon clearly out of her comfort zone. As soon as we got out of the car she was holding my hand for dear life like a scared little girl looking for assurance.

When we walked up to the club she started walking to the end of the line and was slightly confused when the rest of our group walked past it to the front like we usually do. Once inside she told me she didn’t like the other girls and that they were too stupid to carry a conversation with, which might be true at the same time this was the first time meeting my friend and his girlfriend so you’d think she’d try to open up. But she was obviously nervous. She was clinging to me and at times I felt like the hot chick on the arm of a beta. At one point this beautiful girl, a friend of mine who’s from Chile, 6’1, skinny long black hair came up to me excited to see me and chatted me up. Do-gooder was introduced but then fell back during our conversation like a timid mouse. Because of her low energy obvious self doubt it felt like I was out baby sitting my little sister instead of partying with a hot girl that I’m banging. She ended up overcompensating by taking shots and getting drunk then starting childish drama. Trying to talk to other guys to make me jealous, pulling me away from conversations with the other girls in my group, at one point having breakdown and running out of the club. It was some shit straight out of The Hills.

Once home in my bed we had a conversation about the night. She confessed that she just felt out of her league compared with the other girls in the club. She said something that I’ve heard from other girls I’m with. She worried that she’d never be skinny enough, tall enough, or sexy enough like the other girls I’m used to dating and hanging out with. I didn’t play too much into her neurosis but told her if I wanted those other girls I’d be with those other girls, I’ve been there done that and wanted more. Then I gave her some dick to put her to sleep. The truth is that I needed her to be those other girls. Not in terms of looks or appearance but in terms of confidence. I needed her to own her inner sexy and let it radiate through her being. Roosh, the rookie and the rest of my entourage all thought she was attractive that night. But it bothered me that when it came to the competition around her she folded under pressure instead of stepping her game up.

Yes, I know I contradict myself. I need you to be the saint and the whore. I need you to be that sexy girl in the club but not worry that you’re fucking every other guy when you’re there on girls night out. I need you to be able grab drinks with me and my boys at a sports bar like Spider Kelly’s on a Thursday night then the next night throw on that slut dress that I like and join us on the Rooftop lounge at the W Hotel. I need you to feel sexy and be sexy in cotton boy shorts and a wife beater or snapping the stalking to the garter belt of that La Perla number that I got you. I need you to be every fantasy woman that I’ve had and keep me grounded at the same time. Simply put I have needs that might not be able to be satisfied by a 24 year old who hasn’t been in a relationship in close to two years. While I have no problem getting and pulling younger women, I have desires and needs that only someone with some experience in the art of sinning might be able to satisfy.