10 days in Warsaw

My initial plan was to visit Warsaw for a few days and then squirt myself over to Croatia without having succumbed to what some daygamers become familiar with: the Corpuscular Theory of Lead Generation – in other words, where the gravitational influence of the leads you have (not) generated exceeds your own inability (ego) to escape them. Couple this daygamers’ spin on Newtonian Theory of Gravity with an organic compound called alcohol, then it should come as no surprise that copious volumes of said alcohol partnered with a group of like-minded men, often results in Groundhog days of Wake in Fright debauchery centered on the topics of pigging, shitting, pissing and more drinking. In short, I failed in my attempt to leave Warsaw after 5 days.

I arrived on the Friday afternoon and checked into my accommodation after a bit of a scare as the host informed me he had no keys. After a little bit of back and forward the cleaning lady came back with them and I secured a free night stay for the hassle. It was a cheap place by current pricing – the whole of the city appears to be quite overpriced especially at the end of the rental market us daygamers operate in, while what is available is quite poor unless you wish to pay upwards of £70 per night. I stayed in two very basic AirBNBs while there. Don’t get me wrong, they were serviceable and well located. But there was an element of despair about them. Despite the best efforts of the landlords to amp them up a bit with coffee machines and cute posters, they remained pretty basic places certainly worthy of an “I owe you an apology in advance about my ratpad” should you get a girl back.

The streets there generally need good weather, meaning the malls take poundings during inclement weather. I do love daygame across winter, but there is something good about blue skies and big-city escapism: drinking and fishing on the street as the girls walk by.

I met up with Krauser on the Friday night and we grabbed food and had a few beers. It was good to catch up. Krauser has a good balance of not indulging too much on any one (good) thing – be it daygame or boozing. He was careful to sidestep the most egregious of the alcohol sessions that were to follow and focus on the art. Me? I was like Charlie Sheen in Platoon, caught between the good sergeant (Willem Dafoe) and the bad sergeant (Tom Berenger) in other words – sobriety or debauchery. It was good to meet Jimmy Jambome for the first time and the biggest straightner in the PUA sphere was happily avoided principally because each time I went to find him for a kick-off, the only guy I bumped into was Cary Grant. Odd that.

Lethargy and tiredness began to accompany me on the street, while the days became more and more of a struggle largely due to drink fuelled piggery, and shitty sleeping habits. Events, though, as I was to discover, were about to take an ever darker, more sinister turn on Wednesday evening.

THE DARK PRINCE OF FILTH AND DEPRAVITY

Late Wednesday evening, the Dark Prince (Brian) arrived. He initially took the form of an amorphous, seething shape, writhing and twisting, before succumbing to a hideous human form. He emerged out of the mist as a dream and nightmare combined. I shook my head and thrust my hands in front of my face. I cried – denying my eyes and brain of the horror. Stupefied in terror, my feelings slowly gave way to awe and fascination as The Thing strode down the dank innards of Pawilony exactly on the stroke of midnight. And that was that. The demon had me and others for the next 5 days. A blur of raucous laughter, booze and piss-taking. A few sets here and there. Fucking A-grade lad he is.

DAYGAME STATS

Sets: 42

Numbers: 13

Insta: 11

Dates (inc. instant dates): 6

Lays: 2

Glengarry: a few

I am pretty surprised at what was a low work rate across what was a significant period of time. For at least 2 days I did no approaches at all. Reactions were largely good, and leads were responding, but dates with the girls I really wanted to see didn’t all come off despite the good daygame I was executing. The girls I did bang, as you will see below, were the right girls at the right time (Blonde was unhappy in her relationship while Brunette responded to my fuck off for flaking #FFF text, by meeting me in a club and…well, you’ll see).

I met some incredible girls and dated two stunning Ukranian girls such as a legit 18 year old model whose been in the magazines, billboards, Zara etc. There was a gorgeous flight attendant and a date with a gorgeous 18 year Belarusian (who was technically a daygame open as I approached her ‘on the street’ just before roywalkerpua got his trotters in front of her – no stealing sets, I popped out the bar just as he was about to open). She appears to be a Glengarry because we have both planned a ‘weekend break’ in Gdansk in 2 weeks (hahaha, fucking as if, you fat old bald cunt, let’s wait for the flake).

My game was clean and tight and most girls loved the interactions. I squeezed in a bit of coaching with a chap who was about to wrap it all up and quit the sport. Four hours later, he was a new man approaching girls and back in love with daygame (yes, I did that) having exposed him to my (cock) style and sorted some sticking points (he got some great leads, too).

THE LAYS

Lay 1: A good blonde

I think it was on Tuesday morning I went up to see Bodi in a cafe near Mirow. We sat talking and generally catching up while being intermittently scolded for my mobile phone use. I would nod emphatically and apologetically, I’m sorry John, I know, I’ll put it down (before checking my phone 10 seconds later to see if my LEADS were IN COMMS.

After a few minutes absent mindedness on my part I placed my phone on the table. John had my undivided attention now. Before long, he was entering into a long, wonderfully detailed creative piece about home-made UFOs and their value in attracting a large pool of 10-year old boys for a Viking rape-gang on the Norfolk Broads,

“so you’d build this enormous structure and fill it with lights near to a cub-scout convention“

I was sat, listening wide-eyed, rapt, drinking in the scenario, greedy for more:

“and then you would..”

Suddenly, a nice, rounded arse with blonde hair walked past the cafe window. I sprang-up off my seat.

“I’m fucking doing that” I yelled for all to hear in the quiet coffee shop.

It was an easy open as she was carrying a little puppy. I played her off against the puppy and we entered a nicely-spiked comfort phase of the conversation (she even allowed me to hold and cuddle her dog as we talked – see what I did here? massive implied familiarity). Sadly, she told me, “I have a boyfriend, but it was lovely speaking to you” before volunteering that…”the relationship is going through a tough patch” (I had the exact same experience with a girl in Krakow. A good set, a failed close followed by the but “we’re having a bad time right now“).

I replied in both cases by saying. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I hope you and your partner sort your relationship challenges and wish you both the very best“.

Now of course I didn’t say that. What I did say in both cases was, ‘give me your insta and we can keep in touch if your situation changes‘.

We got into conversation on Instagram and it was a straightforward process to lead the girl toward butterflies in her stomach with an illicit meeting at my place – somewhere quiet, private and discrete. Two days later, after some creative weaving, she was in a taxi on her way to mine. Not more than 5 minutes later, I was hanging out of the back of her. She even brought her puppy, which conveniently drifted off to sleep on the floor.

Aww how sweet.

Lay 2: A feline shit-bag

Walking the streets with Jimmy I approached a 2-set as he stood nearby laconically observing me juggle the girls before closing the nicer brunette one. We agreed a date the next night but she asked to reschedule to Tuesday as she was feeling tired from work. We agreed 21:30 the following day. She flaked on the date of course, following that classic pathway we have become familiar with, where the girl agrees and confirms the date but then simply no-shows. As I was sat having a beer, I sent her a message telling her that her behaviour was shitty. I deleted her number. I placed my phone back to the table and savoured the changing colours of the night sky as the neon of Mirow woke for the evening. It was then that I saw a leggy beauty in a business suite strutting along the street. I trotted over to her and I quickly discovered she was off for an interview as an air hostess. She broke off momentarily to take a quick call informing her that the interview was being pushed back to 10pm (yeah interview at 10pm?). She had just turned 18 and was stunning. Another legitimate model who has worked for big brands since she was 14. I seeded a date with her later that night and she said that she’d message me after the interview. I didn’t hear from her until the next day.

The 18-year model arranged to meet me on Saturday night at 8pm. She dutifully arrived on-time and I spotted her standing on the street silhouetted by the Warsaw sun. Long straight hair and porcelain skin with a suggestion of freckle. Big round eyes. Simply stunning. We walked around the block a couple of times idly chatting until my 20:30 reservation at the Italian bistro. I was stupidly tired. Fatigued and a little broken after three significant nights on the booze with The Pigs. She wasn’t hungry and didn’t drink but I ordered some anti-pasta and a main and made sure to make her a little plate when the food arrived. She was relaxed and comfortable, playfully tapping my arm and brushing her hand across my thigh. She was sparkling. But is she horny, I thought. As the date progressed I realised just how low on ‘spark’ I was. I tried to take the conversation into intellectually significant areas. She said I was too serious but the most fascinating man. I ordered a second glass of Pinot Grigio and instructed her to sit next to me. I placed my right hand behind her and across her back, moving it into her hair, across her neck and scalp. Her eyes glossed. Do you like that, I asked. She nodded, her eyes said YES. We kissed. My instinct told me this was on. I paid the bill and we walked further along the street toward my apartment. Every few moments I would break off and move her to the wall and kiss her. I told her I wanted her to come back to mine.

And that was the moment the car crashed.

She was genuinely upset and hurt that I had asked her back so soon. Of course, I attempted to put the fire out with a water pistol but the damage was done. She messaged me that night to say she got home ok, but hasn’t replied to my follow up message (UPDATE – she messaged me tonight). I knew on the date not to push and I bet against myself. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise – I don’t know.

I was so low on energy and completely incapable of drinking as I left her to meet up with the Krauser, Jambone, Roy Walker, Bodi etc). I sat down and Brian thrust a drink into my hand and I felt myself, after a couple more, begin to feel ‘better’ as we split into groups (some lads remaining in the bar, the rest of us heading to a club that Ryan had kindly organised).

The night began tepidly for me despite the lure of the big fuck-off bottle of posh vodka that was slowly, but surely, beginning to slide down our necks. By around 2am I received an unexpected text from the girl who had stood me up the night I met the 18 year old Ukrainian model. I told her to get her arse to the club wearing a sexy dress and heels. An hour later she was in the club and an hour after that, she was dutifully dancing with girls carrying out her instructions to find another girl for us. I had got the Instagram of one really good blonde as she was leaving. I messaged her with the subtle implication of a threesome. She seemed to in favour of the idea but she was by now several km away in a taxi.

She found one girl as we were leaving but her friends prevented her getting into our taxi. It was a straightforward +1 with the light beaming into my apartment window, the curtains totally fucking unfit for purpose. I crashed immediately on the bed as she left for work at 10am.

SUMMARY

I’m sat here on Thursday afternoon writing this post. I have had a few good sleeps since I returned on Sunday morning. My body needed it. The drinking sessions and the late nights were detrimental to my daygame but fucking hell, I cannot complain given the laughs we had and the quality of a couple of the girls I dated and one girl in particular I banged (admittedly she has a boyfriend) who I like a lot. I will be back in Warsaw before the end of the month and I will be putting in the work. I feel that we are in a golden moment for daygame – whether you just want to get lots of sex, learn the system, find a wife – whatever your aims and goals are – it is truly a good time to be out there for men of any age.

I remember on the Friday afternoon I ran a 4-hour coaching session with a guy from the UK. He was a bit down about daygame. He’d been in Warsaw for a week, had done hardly any approaches and his confidence shot. He reached out to me via Telegram on the chance we could meet. I remember towards the end of the session we were on a street just off Nowy and he opened a lovely, classy Belarusian girl. He was in-set, having fun, extending it, following the advice, translating his value and driving authenticity. I stood there in the doorway as the sun began to drop into the gap over Chmielna. I smiled and enjoyed the interaction and especially the moment – just having a fucking go and making memories. There were beautiful girls everywhere and a great group of lads scattered around restaurants and cafes. It was a nice moment, where things just felt right.

BroodingSea, June 2022