‘I have this vibe, this energy—some people find it intimidating. Some find it attractive. But EVERYONE feels it.’
Justina fixes me with her huge, serious eyes. Maybe it’s the cocaine she’s taken that makes her look manic. But actually she always looks a bit manic anyway. Now it’s fuck-knows what time in the morning. We’re sitting out on the shitty balcony of my shitty apartment on the strip in Playa d’en Bossa. It overlooks the club that used to be known as Space, but is now called Hi Ibiza, or something.
Jesus, where to start with this one? Justina is a girl who likes to party. When you come from a small town in Lithuania, maybe that’s understandable. She’s wearing a €500 black dress from the boutique where she works in D’alt Villa, where I picked her up earlier. She’s on her second bottle of wine. I don’t drink, so I’m getting a little bored, watching her get drunk and talk shit. On the other hand she’s fun company. One of those aggressively self-opinionated Eastern European girls who smokes vociferously and doesn’t care who she pisses off.
‘You think you can just bring me back here and fuck me?’ she says. But her eyes are glowing and the lace bottom of the black dress is hitched up so her legs are bare to the thighs. She sucks down another lungful of Marlborough Light and looks at me appraisingly.
I go along with it. I say something about the connection that we have, that we’ve had since we first met, what, two years ago when Justina was working as a waitress in a tacky cafe over in San Antonio. It’s true. We do have ‘a connection’ of sorts. It’s the connection that two people have when they want to fuck each other but haven’t got around to it yet.
You see I’ve done this dance before. I know how these things go down. When people write about game they talk a lot about tactics and techniques, but with a club girl like Justina the main challenge is to stay awake for long enough and just let things run their course.
RSD have talked about this in videos before. When all’s said and done it’s not actually that hard to spark attraction in night game. The challenge is to make something happen as a result of that attraction, and when you’re dealing with girls who like staying up late and partying (which is pretty much every girl in Ibiza) then the best thing you can do it just hang in there.
I’ve lost so many lays in the past by going home at 3am instead of waiting it out until 7am when she’s ready to fuck. If you’re in it then you have to be in it. You have to be the last man standing, so that finally when she’s had enough wine and cigarettes and cocaine and she’s feeling horny then you are the one she will have sex with.
It’s not complicated, but it can be challenging—particularly if, like me, you’re not in your twenties any more and you don’t even party. I mean, I’m staying up until 7am, 8am, 9am in the morning STONE COLD SOBER to sleep with these girls.
I’m not asking for a medal, but consider that for a moment. Being a player takes work.
Rich Men and Hookers
So I’m sitting there on the shitty rented balcony and Justina is telling me about her roommates—all Eastern European models, dancers, strippers, and all heavily into into hanging with Ibiza’s rich guys.
‘It’s all rich men and hookers here now,’ Justina laments. ‘And just a few random, normal people. But I am thankful to my parents for the way I was brought up, that I have never gone down this route.’
The route to which she refers is getting paid to hang out in club VIP areas and on yachts with the millionaire dudes who party here each summer—and then to have sex with them.
The line between party girl and prostitute is so slender as to be indiscernible. Each season, tall, thin, beautiful girls from the FSU and Baltics travel to the White Isle in search of glamour and money. They end up sharing rented rooms, each hoping to form a lasting relationship with one of the yacht guys.
But it rarely works out.
‘My roommate is 26 now,’ says Justina. ‘When she was 22 she met this Argentinian guy. Super rich. So she went to live with him in Argentina. Now they broke up, but they’re both here in Ibiza. They met and she asked to see his phone. He never let her look before but now he did. What she saw on it—disgusting. Videos of threesomes, foursomes, orgies. And all the time while she was with him.’
It is perhaps hard not to feel a sharp stab of jealousy on hearing this. For whatever those of us who advocate pickup might say about ‘provider game’, the simple fact is that when it comes to having sex with hot young girls money works: spectacularly well. So if you’re a guy with a yacht moored on the marina by Ibiza’s old town and you are regularly paying women €1000 a time to party with you then the simple fact is you will end up sleeping with some of them, with many of them—without ever having had to read How To Get Hot Girls Into Bed.
Hanging In There
By 6am my own quest with Justina is looking doubtful. I keep escalating—touching her legs, massaging her shoulders, going in for kisses—and she keeps rebuffing me, although she loosens up slowly so that we’re finally holding hands and sitting close. She’s still here and she’s clearly attracted to me. Whether anything will happen as a result of not is in the lap of the pickup gods, though.
I get caught in the player’s dilemma—whether to continue to escalate or not.
‘Troy, what is this?’ she keeps saying whenever I touch her. ‘You’ve been all over me since we first met this evening.’
She’s not saying it directly, but the implication is that I’m desperate. Too keen. And hell, maybe I am. But then if you don’t escalate then you risk getting caught in what Tom Torero calls ‘comfort quicksand,’—that is, it all gets too friendzoney.
The other thing to recognise is that such accusations are actually shit tests in the same way as her saying ‘so you only want me for sex?’ is a shit test. Because if you deny your very obvious sexual interest then you look weak, the opposite of a man who owns his desires and isn’t afraid to go for what he wants. And the reality is that escalation causes attraction—something I’ve seen many, many times before.
But I’m tired and I pull back. “Whatever happens, happens” is my attitude. . The trick at this point is not to invest anything in the outcome. So we don’t fuck and she leaves. Does that somehow invalidate my master PUA standing? Who cares? It’s important for me to drop my ego.
Finally we go to bed, after I’ve assured her that ‘nothing’s going to happen.’ And sure enough, exhausted, we fall asleep.
It is a couple of hours later, when, semi-comatose, we come together naturally and the inevitable climax—one two years in the making—is finally reached.
‘Thank you for making me very happy,’ she says as I walk her to her taxi. It’s now 2pm in the afternoon and she’s wearing the black dress again, and shades. She’s looking elegant, almost demure. ‘Come and see me any time in the shop’.
‘It was a lovely evening,’ I say, thinking of the bed we broke in the apartment and the sheets that are stained as a result of the surprise onset of her period.
It was a lovely evening. I like hanging out with Justina—she’s intelligent, fun, challenging and she has a great body under that black dress.
But never let it be said that the player lifestyle is easy. Persistence, energy and endurance are all prerequisites, quite apart from any specialised ‘game’ techniques you might need to learn along the way.
Read More: How To Get Hot Girls Into Bed