My night out with an old shark

I met a man in a casino maybe 10 months ago. He was an odd man, smooth talking while also selling pendants and dressed extravagantly. Almost like a pickup artist who took ‘peacocking’ too far, but with a sense of style, albeit exaggerated style. A foil to his risk adverse, nit poker style.

HK style
Almost like a competent ‘PUA’
poker rock
His opening range

Over the last couple months we spoke more at the casino about life and girls. He was a friendly guy, a man of abundance, and gratitude. It’s a rare feeling when you meet a man who ‘gets it’. I felt from his presence and when we spoke about women he and I were on the same page, unplugged. I learned he is a DJ for private events and he invited me out to come party with him “VIP” style.

I am a chatty guy at the tables, it probably works to my disadvantage because many recognize me and it may make me a focal point. Often recreational players invite me to house games or to party but very rarely when numbers exchange does it lead anywhere. Men you meet at the casino are flakier than girls.

He mentions we should hang out first week of December, and I think nothing of it. I pick up a call from him on Friday saying we are going out tomorrow, and do I want candy (MDMA). Sure, let’s rock.

When he spoke of VIP style, I thought he had maybe a single club where he knew the bouncers and could get us in for free. Clubbing in Vancouver is an absolute shit show. It’s as bad as Vegas, if not worse. In Vegas at least money always gets you in, in Vancouver that’s not always true. You need to know somebody.

This man knew everybody.

We get to the first club and he knows all the bouncers, we skip the line and pay no cover and we don’t get frisked. We go to the bartender, and he talks to them all. We bounce around 3 different clubs the whole night and the script stays the exact same.

Pass through bouncers/security with not even an ID check. Greet coat girls and bartenders, get a free drink + tip bartender and head to DJ booth. Chill in DJ booth dancing. Girls either came up to us and said some inane shit ‘I had to meet you, you’re cute, etc etc” or I could motion I like a girl, we would point to her ‘come hither’ and the girl would light up and come grind on your dick.

Literally point at her and choose, like a child at a candy store.

I’ve had tables in Vegas and bottle service blah blah but this was another beast altogether. It was a cheat code. DJ/status game knows no bounds.

I now know what it means to be The Chosen.

I was exhausted from a broken sleep schedule (combination of being jumped a week before + ending up in hospital last weekend and stress) so I was running on 2 hours and not that interested in chasing girls. I could not find a girl I was really into.

I also felt gross.

These bitches just see me having access and would suck my dick. No game, no personality no nothing. It felt so hollow. Part of the high of the ‘chase’ and gaming a girl for me is the validation of my ego knowing I spit hot fire to get her. That girls want me because they see my strength, wit, personality/whatever. Daygame does that. You put it all out on the line, and she tests you and you’re off. But this status game? It’s not me.

It reminds me of this Bill Burr skit where he says ‘those women stand at the finish line and wait to suck your dick’

Maybe it was my fatigue, or being picky, or not having my type of girl in supply (not many asians, couple rare white girls I liked but couldn’t be bothered). But I didn’t feel good meeting these random hood rats.

Cyralea on The Red Pill subreddit explains it perfectly “The day fish jump into my boat is the day I quit fishing.”