Roosh V - 30 Bangs: The Shaping Of One Mans Game From Patient Mouse To Rabid Wolf

Roosh V

Copyright 2012 by Roosh V

Smashwords Edition

http://www.rooshv.com

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The Pareto principle states that 20% offactors contribute to 80% of results, something that I believeapplies to pickup as well. The more notches I rack up, the more Inotice that a few skills or techniques consistently contribute tomy success. While no two bangs are the same, most show remarkabletactical similarities.

This book describes thirty of my early bangswhen I was consciously using game every step of the way. Ivepicked the bangs that vary from each other the most so you wontfeel like youre reading shades of the same story. Its my hopethat with these case studies you can understand the correctpatterns for what it takes to sleep with a lot of women.

I was in the game for many months, racking upa lot of numbers and make-outs, but my first game bang eluded me.(I was close with a Filipina girl, but my attempts to get her hornyby putting on pornography backfired). The pile of phone numbers Iwas getting from mostly trance clubs went nowhere. I was ready totry something different.

I met a new guy who was into game as much asI was. While driving around in his car, he would let me listen tohis favorite guru, Ross Jeffries. My head was so crammed withdifferent schools of game that I didnt want to pay any moreattention to what was out there, so I politely declined when heoffered to let me borrow the audio CDs he had paid good moneyfor.

My new wingman told me that swing dancing wasan easy way to meet girls. They rarely turn you down when you askthem to dance, he said, and it would be impossible not to buildstrong leads. I was hesitant at first because swing dancing seemedeffeminate compared to thumping electronic music, which I preferredat the time, but I was willing to experiment with anything to getmy first game bang. He took me to a large ballroom for my firstswing dancing experience. It was packed with all white peopleexcept for one black guy.

He had some moves and was dancing with girls,occasionally making them laugh. I sat on the sidelines and watchedskinny guys with bad style try to bebop to 1920s music, waiting forgirls to take a break from dancing so that I could talk to them. Atabout the time I decided that swing dancing wasnt masculine andthat Id never go to such an event again, I noticed an older womandancing in a retro black-and-white polka dot dress. I use the wordolder because I was 22 at the time. She was 26, pasty white, with asloppy body. She wasnt the type of girl I would pursue today underany circumstances.

I approached her when she took a break,asking if there was a secret to figuring the dance out. Sheexplained it like I was a retard and we chatted for a bit until sheasked what I did for a living.

Im a hypnotist, I said.

A hypnotist? Are you serious?

Well, kind of. Ive read a couple books onit and I can hypnotize people. You seem the type that could easilybe hypnotized.

My teasing was strictly amateur hour but sheate it up. After indulging my non-existent dance moves for a fewsongs, I got her email address. I emailed her two days later andshe accepted a date for a weekday. She lived in Annapolis, about anhours drive from where I lived. I put on my favorite cologne atthe time, Drakkar Noir, and showed up a couple minutes early to abar located around the harbor.

We had a boring conversation about work andfamily for ninety minutes until it was time to call it a night. Atthe time I didnt have any real-life experience besides going tocollege and playing video games, so I mainly went on about thehypnosis books I was reading. With little to say about my life, Iused the books for ideas on what to talk about.

She let me give her a peck on the lips and wemade tentative plans to hang out the upcoming weekend and watch amovie. On the drive home that night I got so distracted thinkingabout the date that I hit a barrel cone on the highway with myright side mirror. It flew off and I had to get it replaced for alittle over $100.

The movie date arrived. In her apartment Iwas introduced to her cockblocking dog, who made me feel like I hadto out-game him in order to get the goods. During the movie wesnuggled and afterwards had a more proper make-out session. Becausewe had drunk some wine, I asked if I could crash at her place for acouple hours so I wouldnt have to drive home while intoxicated.She said yes and we both fell asleep on her bed with our clotheson. I didnt make any attempt to get her naked.

She mustve had a sex dream. In the middle ofthe night she woke up and started making out with me passionately.I started to play with her boobs and then took her shirt off. Itried to unsnap her bra with two hands, but I failed due to myinexperience.

I said, Uh, a little help, please. Shelaughed and did it for me. The clothes kept coming off and thennext thing I knew we were both naked. I felt pretty good at mychances at this point, but then she threw me a curveball and asked,Have you had sex before?

Uh, yes, I said. Why?

Because Im a virgin.

Oh, okay, I said.

Do you have a condom?

Yes, yes I do.

I got the condom and had trouble putting iton until I realized it was backwards. I finally got it on and thenafter five minutes of trying, I penetrated her vagina. I humped herlike a small dog. She didnt make any sounds, telling me to stopbefore I came.

The next day I met my swing-dancing wingmanfor lunch. He looked at me and said, You walked in a littledifferently.

Really? How?

You have the after sex walk. Its a moreconfident walk. Your shoulders are more erect and your back isstraighter.

How long is it going to last?

About a day or two.

I fucked the virgin one more time after thatbefore she called me to nicely say she didnt want to see meanymore. I think she used me to lose her virginity, but I didntmind. I couldnt be happier to get my first bang after studyinggame.

Ive previously detailed part of meeting thenext girl:

I went to a wine festival with two female coworkers.I was approaching girls regularly by then, but it was mostlyconfined to loud clubs. Walking around this farm in Virginia on a100-degree day, I saw a tall, curvy girl wearing high-heel corksandals matched with a skimpy outfit. I noticed that the girls werechecking her out as much as the guys. I stalked her at that winefestival, fantasizing about her like every other guy. An hourlater, I looked to my left and saw her standing under a tent withher back towards me. I walked up to her from behind, touched herupper-back tattoo, and asked, What does this mean?

She was very receptive, surprising since Ihad essentially stalked her and intruded on her physical space in anon-club setting. Then again, women continue to reward bold movesmade by men because of the confidence it displays. In this case,the confidence came after consuming a couple dozen winesamples.

Our conversation was very brief. We talkedabout basic personal information and her weird tattoo, which was amade-up word that she had invented (drama alert). I told her mybirthday was coming up and that I expected a big gift from her.

I can give you a massageIm a massagetherapist, she said.

I would definitely like that. Whats youremail?