The adventures of Donkey Dick in Dubai; or, Mess culture and Superego

Rock Bottom, Dubai UAE. Not seen: Donkey Dick, see below for explanation why.
Meeting guys in Florida was … interesting. After I presented, Rollo had a question. Very cool! THE redpill hero of mine! Rollo asked me what I thought was the biggest obstacle for men. The biggest obstacle in becoming self-actualized.
I still stand by my answer. Self-sabotage, AKA stepping on your own dick.
I've read and seen unwarranted shame, as well as unwarranted pride. Pride in half-assed effort. Many of the men in Florida were a pleasure to talk to, and I can tell they interact with other men on the regular. But the younger crowd? Something stood out. Which reminds me, the date. November 11.
I'm coming up on my 2 year anniversary. My 2 year anniversary of leaving my bitch ex-wife, AKA the Royal Canadian Navy. I enjoyed the memories, the coworkers, the foreign ports. I won't speak well of the organization, especially from the perspective of a man, finding his mission #PeacetimeMilitaryProblems. I do reflect on the experience on occasion, the Mess Culture. It occurred to me, this is the thing that was missing with a lot of those guys.

What is Mess Culture? 

It's what guys refer to when complaining about the female invasion of male spaces. I can talk to a man, or read his writing, and can tell you if he has it or not. It's that obvious. /u/Dirty_pr had a few of his friends show up in Florida, I met them when they were telling the story of eye-fucking Rollos wife on the plane. 10 seconds into the conversation I could tell. They were the kind of men who had it. /u/Screechater, /u/thefamilyalpha as well. Half of theredpill is about sexual strategy, the other half of the mission statement is: in a culture increasingly lacking a positive identity for men. Being able to successfully engage other men, and not devolve into bitch-fights and bravado contests is a skill. I don't think people are taught it anymore. I'm not talking conflict averse either, I'm talking specifically male conflict juxtaposed against female conflict. This is why female invasion causes problems. Problems exist when women are around when you get platonically social. You start to pick up their caddy habits. Shame, in-group signalling, these are a woman's tools. If you can shame a man, a man who has no other masculine frame of reference? Then you can manipulate a man into thinking himself a failure, feeling unwarranted shame.

A Short, Disjointed History of Mess Culture

When I talk about the lack of male-spaces, I talk about having a place to relax and bond, and it is missing almost everywhere I go. I've been to almost 2 dozen different countries, and it's the one thing that has existed in all of them, though it's becoming harder to find. I'm talking about the place where you play hard, you work hard. I would hear the old hairy-bags*1 talking about their Mess Culture in the 90s. They would have porn playing 24/7 in the mess. They smoked and drank before the morning shifts. It was a different time. My generation are coffee addicts, only the engineers table getting drunk on Monday. Instead of porn, we would have SexTV playing porn documentaries. I guess the difference between porn and a documentary was whether there was a cameraman in the shot, and a lack of closeups.
No one complained though. We even had conversations, surprised that it wasn't jagged in, or that some woman would complain about it. The idea of being unapologetically man was so foreign to us, we were treating it like an indulgence. We were numb to the visuals after a while. I remember a few times we would be talking about starting a yoga session on the flight deck, or talking about our various business side-hustles while Asia Akira was polishing a knob in the background. At one inspection, a group of us was reading, while it was blaring in the background, the XO just laughed and told us which one of our books he had read and enjoyed previously. My last year on-board, there was a growing group of guys having video-game tournaments on a Friday night in San Diego. Doing it all, sober, after a month of 24/7 work shifts and sleep deprivation. I kind of knew there was a problem with this, but couldn't put my finger on it, before RP. I was in Tijuana with the senior NCO's drinking tequila in a cab, driving around T-town, yelling at the Zebra. (If you don't know, look up Tijuana Zebra for a laugh)
Mess culture, for lack of a better word, is the male social matrix, formalized. I don't want to make it sound too faggy, it's kind of like a safe space. Not safe for your feelings, more safety for your reputation and mental sanity. Work hard, play hard. We all know we are in a competition in the world, it's a structured environment where you can drop that pretense and have some respite. Best way to ensure a long lasting friendship? Know the weaknesses of another man, have him know yours, and don't capitalize on them. Lifelong bonds right there. to illustrate mess-culture, one rule of mess functions:
No one may leave the dining room without first obtaining permission from the PMC.
My favourite formal mess dinner stories are from this rule. It's almost a punishment. Guys have pissed in their tuxedos, with laughs had by all. Eventually, you learn to pace yourself, but someone always does it. Unless you were a recovering alcoholic, the peer pressure to drink and suffer was written into it. I can't describe it in a way to give it justice, you just have to experience it yourself. This isn't a western thing, or a military thing either. It's a world-wide male phenomenon. I still have fond memories from having a makeshift mess function in some random hole-in-the-wall whiskey bar while I was in Tokyo. Sitting there, watching baseball with a businessman who didn't speak a word of english, absolutely shitfaced. The junior OD's that had joined me there had a great time, in the company of perfect strangers.
Another rule:
No cameras are allowed in the mess. 
The mess culture is one of discretion. It's every mans fortress of solitude. Problems are handled from the members, it starts in the mess, it ends in the mess, and it's never discussed outside the mess. My dislike of reservists spawned form watching them take selfies in a mess. Also a complete lack of competence, but that's a story for later. The whole culture transformed into a narcissistic signal, Look how much fun we are having, acting like real men! When I talk about LARPING masculinity, this is a good example.
A mess culture is male-only. There isn't a situation where you can let your vulnerabilities show around women, and not suffer repercussions later. They change the dynamic, and not in a good way. Not every women is incapable of joining in, and not every man is capable of turning-off with the token female presence. It makes more sense to generalize here, at the expense of whomevers feelings are hurt. It's just not worth it.
The problems grow, when you're so used to a female presence it completely changes how you act. Acting differently, even when there are no women around. I can't speak to this as a male sexual strategy. I can speak to it as being able to enjoy being a man, surrounded by other men. And I'm telling you, it's one of life's true pleasures.

Sorry I missed your speech, a tale of two stories

Part I: Lost Boy

Can't sleep the day before a SAILORD, or sailing order. 

Missing your ships cast-off was more than just a charge for AWOL. They had to send a boat to come pick you up, and bring you back in front of everybody. Even if you had a story of fucking 3 models, it was an embarrassment in front of your entire peer-group. You would be rightfully ashamed. The models were the mitigating factor in your punishment. The Cox'n would laugh and buy you a beer, after he ran your ass*2. And when asked to give a speech, talking about married men and the RP, it was another sailord for me. It wasn't about people wanting to listen to me, it was a work. It's not the anxiety that you'd get as a kid, up early waiting for Christmas. That's a leeching attitude. It's that readiness to produce.
This is what we play for!
I was not expecting to have this insight at the 21 Convention. It stuck with me longer than I thought it would. After I gave my 9AM talk, a guy I met on the first day shook my hand. Illimitable man describes Lost Boys, and this kid would be the archetype. He kept apologizing for missing my speech. I didn't care, they paid for 55 minutes of my time, how they chose to use it was their business. Still, he kept apologizing, and then he would stare. He would just stare at me, like it was my line next. Stared with these eyes. I don't want to get too faggy here either, I couldn't get that image out of my head. Clearly he wants me to ask him why he couldn't make it. Finally, he blurts it out.
It was because he got a hooker, and because of the logistics, missed the first hour. 
It gave me pause. He didn't know who the fuck I was yesterday. And now? Now I was the man in his life who could give him absolution for his sins. He had the look of a guy who was begging. Was it for forgiveness, acceptance, approval? I don't fucking know. I've never had a guy look at me like that. It wasn't awkward, it was just... off. He was ashamed. It wasn't rightfully ashamed, like if he had missed a SAILORD, and had to be paraded around for the rest of the crew. He wasn't costing anyone an inconvenience, no one there knew him. There was no judgement from anyone, but still shame. This is what I'm talking about. Who would shit on him for hiring a pro? Women. And no women were there, yet he still stuck to the script.
I am starting to understand why guys latch onto RP, like it's some kind of identity. They never had a Mess Culture, they don't know what other men are like, and have never had to learn to have that comfort and ease in that comes from it. Hunter just stared at me, awkwardly. All I could think to do was to tell him a story. The story of Donkey Dick and his adventures in Dubai.

Part II: Donkey Dick

A bosun I knew, Dalke. We called him Donkey Dick. Since the filthy line monkeys had no filter or shame, we all had turns being surprised by his dick jump-scares. It was a party trick, see if he could trick you into staring at it, so he could call you a fag. The only guys who didn't fall for it were the gay dudes onboard. I guess once you've had enough dicks, you know the signals to watch for. We were in Dubai for 10 days R&R, in the middle of our deployment.
For some background, any woman you see in Dubai who isn't British, Emirate national, or a flight attendant is a prostitute. Even then, the lines blur. The main bar everyone went to was called the Rock Bottom. As close as the middle east gets to the movie Roadhouse. When we got there, some Palestinians picked up bricks from the street and were throwing it at some Iranian dudes Lambo driving off. Inside? Hookers, the children of ex-pats, and a shit ton of sailors. Donkey wasn't there yet. Where did he sneak off to?
Some guys would pick up, some would not. I got a Omani flight attendant that night with a New Zealand accent. Donkey showed up later, and was laughing. The bosuns were striking out, and eventually were going for hookers. 500 USD for an hour, and Donkey couldn't stop laughing, calling them all losers. I don't know what hookers cost normally, but that seemed expensive as fuck. Donkey said it was fucking ridiculous, and then told us why he was gone. Donkey had a hooker earlier, and he sat us down and told us a funny story.
Sidenote: British/AUS/NZ accents make girls sound feminine

He came there with a strategy. He had deployed previously, and knew the score. Guys would be all horny, sexually frustrated, and blow it all night. Sailors are known for DGAF, but not known for game. Once they couldn't take it anymore, and the night was winding down, they would be paying top dollar for the end of the night hookers. The girls were smart, and added desperation charges onto their rates. Donkey, on the other hand, grabbed one at 7PM, before the doors even opened. Cost him 150 USD, and by his words worth every penny. Now he could chill and enjoy himself, sipping on drinks and having a laugh telling stories with the boys. He sat back, sipping on Zima's (don't ask) and had the biggest grin on his face. 

No shame, no judgement, just Mess Culture

But they are no different. I didn't end up paying much more in alcohol, than Donkey did in USD

Part III I regret not spelunking in Oman: 

Now, if you really want a rabbit hole to go down:
She'd run and tell the story to the one person in her life who had, simultaneously, full power of absolution and zero power of punishment, and if she was 28 that would be a therapist but at 18 it could only be one person: her mother
I find it hilarious that I wrote this almost a year before I ranted against asking 'why'. Imagine a place where this person of absolution is a complete stranger. I worry that I was such an important figure in another guys life, I hope that I'm not, I really do not want it. 
I don't know if it helped the guy out, if he got his absolution, or if he learned anything from the weekend. He shook my hand and walked away. I didn't see him for the rest of the conference, hopefully he didn't leave, and stuck it out. Yeah, he was awkward, out of shape, dressed poorly, and had a J-curl from the 1980s. I've had guys like that in my basic training, minus the hair. Guys like this in my TQ3 course, guys like this during my ship time. I've even had this type of guy as a student when I was an instructor. Know the difference between a natural, a RP man, and an incel? Mess Culture, some muscle, and time-in.
My friend Chris, myself, and my coworker Kyle could have fit all three examples to a T. By our fourth year in, and a shit ton of sea-days, we all had similar stories, and you wouldn't know which was which by the end.
Sex with that HB8. Drunken buffoonery in San Diego and the train to T-town. Overnight stays in the drunk tank. Kyle runs marathons for fun, re-mustered into clearance diving (basically spec-ops). Chris was groomed for leadership as an officer. I've moved on and made it in the private sector. I say these things not to brag, I say them to show the importance of Mess Culture.
Chris is retiring end of the year. Plan to take a trip with him to celebrate. Ideally, some place where the chance of dying is > 0, his OCD will go crazy just by the spontaneity of it. I was pissed, last time we were in Oman, a cyclone took out the roads, and I wasn't able to go spelunking in the caves, those ones from the movie Rambo III. A month after missing that opportunity, Donkey Dick was teaching me about how best to hire a hooker in Dubai, and I was wearing one of these fucking
flight-attendant hats and my birthday suit, no ragrets.
I really hope the guy from Florida learned to have a laugh, and tell other guys how to manage your time better when hiring a professional during a masculinity conference.

*1 Hairy-bag is an endearing term for sailor that we would use to describe each other. 
*2 To run someone is to put them on a summary trial


For reference, the Puerto Rican guy with the beard is to the left, Rollo in focus, smoke show of a wife off-frame.
I prefer to write on pragmatic, practical strategies. I've always hated the idea of theory, since it just gives an excuse to do nothing but pontificate (and I've purposefully chosen this pedantic word choice) instead of lifting, gaming, and otherwise getting shit done. I'm trying to understand a concept, and writing helps with articulation. Practical will come out later. On that note, this photo from day 1 of the 21 Convention should give you some food for thought on body language, among other lessons.
The part of Dark Triad that never made sense to me was narcissism. Machiavellian behaviors are a means to an end. Psychopathy, or Killology help in doing what you have to, without feeling crippling levels of empathy. Narcissism? What makes it valuable to a man, in a way that simple confidence does not? I'm starting to see why, and it's not about narcissism, it's how others react around it. Specifically, the difference between useful and self destructive narcissism. In a word:


The thing with narcissism is that it's misinterpreted. Mad Men is a great example, since the character is written as a narcissist. Everyone sees Don as the suave ladies man, and they are taking the wrong lesson. Don Draper isn't Don Draper. Dick Whitman is the character, and he's the narcissist you don't want to emulate. Don Draper is a fiction within a fiction. Dick built him, it's his narrative, his frame.  This is Dicks created narrative, his Tyler Durden, AKA Don Draper. Notice, he doesn't actually have the characteristics you assign to Don. He's not cool, every moment he drops the persona, he emotes, like a child. Something as simple as 'I don't want to fuck you anymore' transforms him into a 9 year old again, begging mommy to stay. Narcissism got him to the top of his field, because people believed his narrative. It also makes his life come crashing down, each time someone commits a narcissistic injury.
A narcissistic injury isn't something that injures the person, it's something that points out the fact that the narcissist doesn't exist in your reality. A good example.
In Redpill terms, we call this a Paper Alpha. This is destructive narcissism, a house built on a foundation of sand. The identity was created before the work was created. But wait, isn't the adeage we adopt to fake it till you make it?
I'm getting to that, put a pin in it for now.
The emulateable narcissism? That's John Hamm. He plays the character Dick Whitman, who plays the character Don Draper. If you were to call out Don Draper as something other than the suave playboy? If you were to commit a narcissistic injury? Dick Whitman would lose his shit. John Hamm would look at you funny.
You do realize it's a character, on a TV show, that I am actually an actor, right?
He is a guy who spent years learning how to act. Took all the time in the world to be in good shape, maybe even gave a producer a hand-job to get the offer. There's all that work he put in, put in to get where he was. And he was at the top of his craft, he became the sexiest man alive in the top TV show of the time. There's all that work behind the scenes, and everyone is there, talking about Don Draper. Talk about a narcissistic narrative, this is the best I've seen.
And you know this, I know this, everyone knows this. And still, through all this, you can't help but think of John Hamm as if he was Don Draper. Even knowing that it's a fiction, when you see him, all you see are those 1960s suits, an old fashionned, and shitty Canadian Rye. When you see him on People Magazines most sexy man of the year, you aren't picturing John Hamm, you're picturing the sexy man you watched on TV, the cool, suave narrative you were given. I guarantee that whatever pussy he was getting before the show, that afterwards it skyrocketed. How can I know for sure? Look at the series run dates, and his marriage run dates.
It's OK, I'll wait.

Narcissism as a tool, not a crutch

And something I've noticed over the years in The Red Pill is this. Most incels, MGTOW 2nd wavers, Paper Alphas, and new TRP subscribers is? Destructive narcissism, not anywhere near a Don Draper. Why? Their scripts suck. They are Dick, when they should be Hamm. So whats the difference?
You know it's just a script, right?

Can't I find a better example than fucking Mad Men and fiction?

It's a fucking analogy retard! Besides, it's way easier than describing my buddy Matt, and his perfect example. Do you really want to read through a thousand words of uninteresting back story to get where one can even discuss the topic? Didn't think so. Mad Men illustrates the point better than a real life anecdote can.

Jack 7-2 Offsuit 

An old user from MRP, /u/Jacktenofhearts. He had his script, Co-Dependent with autism; (his words) He learned how to normie the same way Bill Murray learned how to get past groundhog day, trial and error, breaking it down step by step. He always had lengthy breakdowns of any problems men had in Married Red Pill.
I committed a narcissistic injury one post, where I referred to his advice as largely wrong, but forces you to understand why, which is useful as fuck. And like a Dick, posts quickly devolved into jabs and rage, as much as typing on a keyboard can be emotional. Remember, want to get a narcissist to react? Make a narcissist feel that their hidden, 'true self' has been revealed. A revelation from my post for irrational confidence. The part where I do like the guy though, he has the self awareness to see it, his John Hamm moment:
Either way, I'll get off your case. As you've pointed out, we're here to help guys on MRP, not internet cock fight with each other. Any time spent on the latter is literally a huge waste of time, although you seem to grasp this better than me given your frequent deployment of that devastating rebuttal:
Two narcissists, butting heads over conflicting narratives. One having a Dick Whittman meltdown, the other a John Hamm chuckle. This is the John Hamm moment, even though it took me over a year to understand why.

Frame is narcissism. Authenticity is what allows you to reap the benefits of narcissism, without suffering the narcissistic injuries when they happen.

Back to the main point, what is authenticity? It's functionally identitcal to destructive narcissism, except for, as Gaylubeoil puts it, the cynical implementation. Most importantly, it's grounded in action. The identity has to follow the actions, if you do it the other way around, you're going to be susceptible to narcissistic injuries, when someone removes the curtain on the wizard. And nothing will sabotage you faster than admitting to the world that you were not as good as you presented yourself.
I was a guy who hit rock bottom and was working out a way to get back up, vowing to never be taken advantage of, or for granted, again. This was my frame. I have no idea how you picture my identity (this is assuming I fill enough of your brain cycles to even warrant one) It was why I left the military, the ultimate beta bux grinder. It was why I became a selfish prick, it was why I grew a fuck you fund. It was why I did all of what I did, it was my MAP.
My narcissism, best I can tell, is grounded in this. I have my Don Draper, except for one thing. If I missed a spot? I don't lose my shit, because it's not about the truth, it's about utility. You do know it's a metaphor right?  I hate don't eat paint warnings on this shit, because they ignore that certain distance, and assume the literal. No one is going to just stop improving in an area, in lieu of acting with irrational confidence. Telling a man to act this way will get that man to stop acting with uncertainty, and just say 'fuck it!'
You do realize this is just a script, right? The goal here is to fix guys, turn them into men. If it involves the truth, so much the better, but if the choice comes between creating an actualized man, and the truth?
If something provides a tangible threat to my MAP, I will act. I have done so before, and I will do it again. I will lie cheat and steal to keep my life going in the direction I want it to. But at the same time, if you don't accept it, I'm perfectly comfortable fogging you with a "K". You can keep yelling at the TV, I won't get in your way.

Is there a practical strategy here

That's the big question, otherwise I'm just jerking myself onto my keyboard. I will say:
distance your ego from your narcissism

  1. fake it till you make it; and
  2. understand that it's just a script. 

It has nothing to do with the work you put in, the goals you have, or the need for others to accept your frame. It's a set of frames, a gaggle of narcissists, fighting to implement their frames onto each other. It's been that way, since forever. Socrates himself even referred to himself as the wisest man alive, because he was the only one who knew he wasn't wise. You think he really believed his only source of wisdom was by not being a narcissist? Have you seen how he dies at the end?


Are you a 20 year old who just can't get laid? Are all women whores and bitches who just don't understand how great you are? Dude, you do realize it's a script, right? You know what it takes to get laid. Don't be the Dick Whitman Don Draper, be The John Hamm Don Draper, be Authentic™. You know what you have to do, and you do it. You give the same narrative everyone will resonate with, but you do not grow too attached to it. Be aloof with it, if someone attacks it, shows it for the falsehood it is? Laugh, you do realize it doesn't matter, right? After all, everyone has one, whether they do it purposefully or not. Stealing an out of context quote from the last psychiatrist:
Sex and violence are the only two things that you can't fake, and we keep coming back to them as the definitive "measures of the man." We can fake wealth, intellect, status, kindness, political acumen, parenting, looks etc. There's no objective measure of any of these things, a man can construct any identity he wants, people might not buy it but who are they to say? But a fight isn't a matter of opinion, it is too real. Sex isn't a matter of opinion. "Listen baby, I'm a great fuck." Well, we'll know in fifteen minutes. "Am I a real man?" The response stands for itself.
The anxiety over a fight when your date is right there is that she will find out the truth about your masculinity. Guys will often take a verbal beat down over a real beat down not because it hurts less but because you think it lets the question "am I a man?" rest unanswered. Plausible deniability. Of course, fights are hard to come by now a days, so whats left? Fucking.
Guys will often give a verbal beat down over taking failure in stride, not because it hurts less, but because you think it lets the question "am I a man?" rest unanswered. So when the girl attacks your narrative, in this case, by not acknowledging the work you do as being fuck worthy? "K". It's just a script. Go back, regroup, see what you missed and try again. I mean, it's either the product, the marketing, or the customer was just not buying it. Calling all women whores because of it isn't a statement of fact or opinion, it's your way of defending your ego with rage. It's your Dick Whitman moment.
I AM A REAL MAN! Laughable. A real man went to acting school, gave hand-jobs, hones his craft. You're a character.


Are you a 35 year old man who just can't get laid by his wife? I guarantee you have been doubling down on your 'good qualities', and ignoring your glaring weaknesses. Are you a good dad? Good, go play with your kids, doesn't make women wet. Are you a fatty, or have girl arms? Gym is one way, kitchen the other. Are you in shape? then best learn to be fuckable. Your narrative sucks, and it's just a means to hide from what you know you have to do. Beats having to admit women are the same after 2 kids as they are in the nightclub bathroom, right?
You do know it's just a script, right?
Turns out that ring doesn't work like a set of fake tits. She still doesn't want your dick? How's your pre-selection, how are your options? You do have options, right? Oh, wait, you're a real man! You honour your vows, you aren't a sleazeball, you [insert pejorative morality here]! How's that working out for you?
Want to keep keep dodging that main question, you think you're deferring the question of 'am I a man', or redefining the question so you fit into that category? You can't fake it. Have to work the same as a single guy does. You aren't even a Dick, you are especially not a John. You're pretending the show doesn't exist, and hiding in your own one-man-play, that no one else wants to see, but is more than happy to take your cash for the theatre rental.
You married her specifically because you don't want to hunt like the single guy, right? It wasn't because you want kids, because girls ovaries work perfectly fine without a ring. Hate to tell you, that was a stupid decision.
A ring isn't a placeholder for being attractive
A ring isn't a placeholder for not being unattractive.
Start acting like the single guy again. Handle the shit you need to get done at home, don't expect it's going to win you any points. You're doing it because you don't like the idea of your kids being raised as retards, you don't like living in squalor. Devote the spare time into being genuinely fuckable, into honing a narrative, and because you're a good guy, give your wife the first crack at it, if not, her loss.
You know that contract you signed is just a script, right?

Fear is the Mind-Killer

Any Frank Herbert Fans?
"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."

I must not fear.

I didn't go out Wednesday or Thursday, I was busy rewriting and memorizing the new speech. I dropped my laptop in San Torini, and destroyed the hard drive. My speech, all 10 thousand words of it, gone. I had it memorized, mostly, but 50% wasn't good enough. Ordered a new one, it will arrive when I get home. I'll repait the thing, and quickly rewrite and memorize. Guys paid 1500 USD to be there, and the least I could do was give them value. The least I can do is ensure it was money well spent. 9AM speech, with 8AM start time. I'm not going to stay out till 4 and be immortalized on Youtube, hung over and stammering. Once I finished, I could rest easy and start talking with the other speakers. It's called work hard, play hard for a reason. Once I'm done, I'll join them on the nights out.
Guys came to #21Con to learn game, to learn PUA, to learn masculinity. I was enjoying some drinks with Hunter and Ivan, listening to them talk. I enjoyed the time with Tanner earlier, Mormons aren't going to have fun at the bar though, so that will be a story for another time. Steve McQueen, Goldmund and a few others went to do bottle service, do a little coashing, enjoy all the decadent luxuries one can expect from Orlando. Me?
I learned how afraid guys are, and in Orlando of all places. I get a big redneck vibe coming from teh place, it reminded me 100% of how my party years used to be in small town BC.

Fear is the mind-killer.

Hunter and I were the only marrieds there. The girls getting their drink on? They weren't the hottest I've seen. I truly understand Americas obesity epidemic now. 5's and 6's everywhere, starved for attention. You could see it in their eyes. They were like zombies. Plain faces, almost like walking to work. Walking from bar, to bathroom, back to the bar. Eyes lighting up when they lift up their cell phone, all taking that same selfie, all adoping that same selfie pose. I wonder who the first person was? That first person to figure out how to put ass, tits, and a duck face all into frame simultaneously? Man, even I'm bored. And I do mean mean bored. Bored women, not intimidatingly attractive women, surrounded by booze? Dear god man, why in gods name were more guys not all over this?

Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.

One of the guys there liked my speech, offered to buy me a drink. Vodka and soda, gotta keep it clear. When drinking a few, no one likes those scotch headaches. 
Why aren't you talking to the girls? We would ask. Ivan opened a set, and plopped em down in front of the table, guys chilling there sipping their drinks. My new friend answered. 
I'm not feeling in the mood, I don't want to. I've heard this before. I used to be this, back when I was Mike's wingman.
What about you? I say to a Puerto Rican guy. He's got a wicked beard. It's the kind of bear that would make a Sikh man nod in approval.
Meheha..? Wasn't really an answer, more just a long string of vowels. Fuck it, the PUA was weak here, and I'm getting bored. As usual, my ADHD wins out in the end.

I will face my fear.

Some Greek chick, standing there with 3 friends, walk up, start running my mouth. I don't recall the specifics of the conversation, but it's exactly as I said in the 21Con. It wasn't about sharing information, it was having a meandering, open conversation, building up enough words and emotional engagement. Huge tits, could lose a few, but I wouldn't be embarrassed if guys saw her in a cab with me. If you've followed the convention on Twitter, she would have been about the same as the girl Goldmund was spotted running off with. Nice enough gal. Sharing my deepest, more intimate thoughts, it was like magic! I was pissed that Hulk Hogans surf shop was all the way in Tampa, she offered me meth from the alleyway across the street, as the official hostess to this fine Disney city. The entire conversation was lies. Well, not lies, it was storytelling, building rapport. Her friend was freaking me out. Had this vasoline-like smile. Do you work for Disney? No why? Your smile is crazy beauty pageant-like! Some drunk stumbly looking dude, bit of a looker, starts wrapping his arms around her, stammering something. She still smiling, walks away.
Oh man, I bet there is a lot to unpack with that scene.

I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

She had a friend, the taller one. She looked a lot like the youngest Stark girl from Game of Thrones. Blab that out, because filters are for faggots.
OMG! Why does everyone keep saying that? Again, random conversation, doesn't really matter. 

And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.

The one part that made the group, maybe 20 guys, sit there wide eyed? The conversation at this point was focused on her tits. I guessed 34 B. She was convinced they were DD. So I called her on it, told her to prove it, did the squeeze test.
Wait, did you just meet a girl 5 minutes ago, then start grabbing her tits? Yes, my Puerto Rican friend, she asked me to. as proof.
Dude, thats awesome! No, it's really not. It's calling you all out who are sitting in this table sulking. You paid almost 2 grand to be able to do just this, I just showed you how fucking easy it is!
A few more minutes, I moved on. Learned that I'm older than I thought. When I first got to college, I remember having a shoe box full of napkins. Napkins with phone numbers, written in mascara and bar pencils. Now it was taking screen shots of QR codes on Snap chat. For a guy who settled down prior to Tinder, this made me laugh. I wonder if there is an app that will fuck a girl for you too!?

Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. 

Here is the point of the story. Back to the boys table, Hunter starts laughing with me. My god, what are these guys afraid of? The girls are begging for anything to stave off boredom. Anything! A few minutes later, and this is my favourite part of the night. The Puerto Rican kid. He's up there macking on the Greek chick. It may be a Canadian term, I suppose running game, but I prefer the former term. And yeah, he isn't doing the best. He can't get his hands out of his pockets, he's terrified of any kino, leaning in a little too much. But here he is, putting himself out there, and getting a modicum of success. She's giving smiles and flirting. Big validation suck? Probably. Not that it matters, he's out there, doing his thing. He came back, sounded like Hunter did, after his speech. Was like watching a guy getting an adrenaline rush after almost getting into a fight. Had to talk it out to calm his nerves.

Only I will remain.

Good on him! So we all give a little feedback. Don't be afraid to escalate; always be escalating. Next time, dress a little nicer, don't focus on the conversation, just keep it flowing. Little things. But he was in the game now, and it was great to watch. End of the day, this is RP. this is guys swapping notes, learning from other men. I took off soon after, no idea what he was doing after that. I guarantee his dick will get wet a lot faster than the guys who don't feel like it. Specially if he drops another 20 pounds and ditches the dad jeans.
I'm heading back to the hotel in an Uber. Check my phone. Blown up. It was like watching the electronic version of the game leapfrog. Nude pic with validation seeking comment. Do you think these are too big? Next photo. Picture of her, all the dogs in hand, like an electronic wallet photo. Don't throw this away babe! The phone was at 5% battery, I'll call in the morning.
Man I love that dog
Taking this analogy to it's conclusion, fear in this case is a feminine mindset, letting life happen, not taking control. Dick is cheap, if you wait around for women, you'll be waiting a long time my friend. Of course, like the Kwisatz Haderach, you can make it your bitch. After all, that box of pain? It's not real, the pain wasn't real, the consequences weren't real. You keep your hand in there, because it's all in your head, look at whats real, right in front of you. You don't bite your leg off, you feign dead, so you can kill the hunter and go after the real danger, not this imagined one.