Okay, so I had a whole lot of fun tonight. I forgot all about what I was supposed to be doing, and decided I was just going to have as much fun as possible. One thing I knew was that there’d be a dance floor at the club, so as I rode the elevator down to the lobby of my hotel, I said to myself, “Screw it. I’m going to dance my butt off tonight and have a great time. I’m leaving all that stress behind.”

The first thing I did when I arrived at the club was greet my pals. But I didn’t wait long to head down to the dance floor. No one was dancing, so I got to know the bartender & gave her $10 for a Diet Coke (with the understanding that I would be coming back for refills all night). Finally, I pulled two girls over and danced with them. They looked like they were dying to dance. We ended up having a lot of fun yelling at the DJ to play 80’s music. Several more people joined us.

I asked the two girls who they were here with, and they said they were part of a bachelorette party. They brought the bride-to-be over. She had one of those t-shirts that had a checklist of naughty things she had to do that night. I checked off two of them.

I recognized one of the girls in their party. It was Lisa, the girl who gave me a lap dance at M&S last Christmas (remember?).

I was so in.

I spent the next couple hours dancing with seven women.

Lisa flashed me. Which I didn’t like, because that meant she was a total ho, and it diminishes the lap dance story from this point forward. I didn’t talk to her the rest of the night, but she had guys all over her after that. I feel bad for her husband.

Dancing with seven women provided a ton of social proof, so I had no problem bringing other girls into the set on my way back and forth from the bar.

I was drinking diet soda all night. This was the first time I’ve danced sober. One of many small victories this evening.

Aside:
Lisa was the second person I recognized today. I also ran into Andy at the Pentagon City mall during the day session. I love doing this seminar in my hometown.

I felt bad for the other guys. But only slightly. They didn’t seem to be having much luck (like me yesterday). I was having a lot of fun downstairs, but not winging for any of the guys. I kept telling myself that I was there to have fun—not run game. I needed to mentally make up for last night. No matter what.

Midnight rolled around, and the place got shoulder-to-shoulder packed. That was my queue to leave. Midnight is the magic hour. That’s when the club starts to suck, conversation is nearly impossible, and I turn into a pumpkin.

I left on a high note.

When I got outside, there was a line of about 50 people waiting to get in. I couldn’t believe anyone would wait in a line to go inside that packed club.

I didn’t have much cash on me, so I walked the ten or so blocks back to the hotel. It was just warm enough that I didn’t start shivering until I got to the front door of the hotel.

On the ride back up the elevator, I couldn’t help but smile.

That club owned me yesterday, but I made it mine tonight.

Last night started off well. But things went south after about two hours. I blamed the change in venue. I blamed the late hour. I blamed the absence of alcohol in my system. I blamed the patrons for being rude.

But it was actually none of these things. It was the pain and fear of stepping out of my comfort zone.

Courage and boldness got me out the door, but there is another quality that can sustain this courage indefinitely. A quality that will make me want to fight, when the urge to take flight arrives. I didn’t have this quality last night. When the going got rough, I took flight.

I felt terrible when I returned to the hotel. It took me hours to get to sleep. And when I awoke, I still felt terrible.

But this afternoon, the venue was different. The sun was up, and so was my spirit. I was more comfortable.

I won’t go so far as to say that bars and clubs just aren’t my scene. That would be cowardice. “It’s not the venue,” I was told. “It’s all in your head.”

I’m going to transfer the success I had this afternoon to the venues tonight. We’re meeting at the place I had my worst experiences last night—the place where I decided to bail. Since the hour will be earlier, I’m expecting better success. And if it’s all in my head, then I will go there determined to own my emotional reaction. How I react is up to me. Fear is only temporary. Own the fear and continue anyway.

Even now, I want to bail. I want to go home and return to my comfort zone. But I will own this reaction. I will continue in courage.

Twenty percent more. Go as far as you can, then force yourself to go 20% further. Success will come soon after.

I don’t want to go out. But it’s time to go. Time to fight.

Let’s roll.

I’ll be spending the next three days in a plush hotel in Washington, DC. I’m participating in a Charisma Arts boot camp/seminar, which will teach the Juggler Method to eight men, who wish to improve their interpersonal skills (namely with women).

What I like about the Juggler Method (as opposed to the rest of the pick-up community) is that its benefits are universal. Juggler Method is the art of conversation. There are no gimmicks, routines, or pick-up lines. It’s all about structuring conversation and creating natural, two-way interactions. You can use Juggler Method on absolutely anyone.

(I’m justifying the tax write-off by calling this professional development—which it absolutely is.)

Now, I’m already familiar with what will be taught at this seminar. I’ve read Juggler’s e-book. I’ve watched video of his class. I’ve used Juggler Method “in the field.”

So, why pay $1,500 to attend a three-day seminar?

Because I’m going for different reasons than the other students.

I’m not there to learn. I’m there to audition for a job.

———————

There will be two instructors there & eight students. If there are four students per instructor, and each student is paying $1,500 to attend… I figure the instructor pockets 50% of the tuition (with the other half going to the Charisma Arts company). That means each instructor earns $3,000 each weekend.

Both instructors teaching the D.C. seminar are from New York. They usually teach seminars in NYC full-time. They need an instructor dedicated to the D.C. area (because the market for this material is huge in DC). I’m positive they’ll be using this weekend’s seminar to examine potential instructor candidates. It would be in their best financial interests to do so.

I am going to be the full-time Washington, DC instructor for Charisma Arts.

That is my goal for this weekend.

Aside:
I’m sure that sounds overly-ambitious. …But that’s me. I’m one ambitious S.O.B.

Here are the ways I’m going to achieve this goal…

1. The first thing I have to do is prove myself in the field. I have to show that I know the material and can successfully use it.
2. The second thing I have to do is help the other students achieve success. I have to show the instructors that I can look out for other people’s interests and be a good wingman.
3. Finally, I have to become good friends with the two instructors. I have to S.O.I. them (a tactic of Juggler Method, which stands for “show of interest” or “statement of intent”). I have to let them know that I want to be an instructor.

I can see this instructor gig starting as a secondary/weekend job—then eventually becoming a full-time job.

What better employment is there than to be paid to go to bars & clubs, helping other guys become more social?

As the DC area instructor, I would rotate between the District, Baltimore, Ocean City, Richmond, and Virginia Beach. Pocketing $3K each weekend.

I can just imagine it.

It will be awesome.

———————

So, my goal this weekend is to play the players. I’m not attending this seminar so I can meet women. I can do that anytime I want. I’m attending this seminar so I can meet instructors.

It’s just another job interview for me.

Game on.

P.S. Stay tuned for daily updates this weekend from the Hotel Palomar in D.C.

What is the point in living? What motivates us to pursue certain dreams? Why do we turn towards certain behaviors to make us happy?

Yesterday, I tried to understand why someone would turn towards alcohol or drugs. Obviously, these substances produce an emotional state within the person. It is the desire to be in this emotional state that drives people to abuse these substances.

But is that any different from other means of artificially achieving happiness?

People are driven to achieve the emotion of happiness. They spend their lives in search of ways to obtain happiness. We are constantly chasing this emotion. That is the point of our lives.

The only difference between people are the ways in which they pursue this emotion.

Some people do certain things to feel happiness. Some people take substances to feel happiness. Some people buy things to feel happiness. Some people go places to feel happiness. Some people harm others to feel happiness.

What determines the way each person chases happiness in his or her life?

I thought long and hard about this. And this is my conclusion.

The time in life, when people are most happy is childhood. We had little to no stress or responsibility in childhood. We were completely free to pursue any emotion.

Think about the times in your childhood, when you were most happy. What were you doing? What kinds of emotions were you experiencing?

When I think about my childhood, my most favorite memories involved getting toys. My fondest memory was the Christmas I got several really cool G.I. Joe toys. My family was too poor to buy new Transformers (which I also loved), but for some reason G.I. Joe toys were more affordable. I loved my G.I. Joes.

Those were my fondest memories. I was most happy when I was receiving and playing with certain toys.

For other people, their fondest memories might involve other things. Like sitting alone in their room reading certain types of books. Or venturing off into their neighborhood, exploring new streets and locations. Or climbing up a tree and sitting in the branches for hours. Or socializing with their friends. Or eating certain foods.

Whatever made the person most happy during childhood has become his or her reason for living.

My love for toys has made me who I am today. I achieve a certain emotional state when I buy and “play with” toys. Instead of G.I. Joe figures, I’m now buying and playing with cars, houses, tech gadgets, etc. I’ve deeply associated the emotion of happiness with receiving new toys. I subconsciously think that this external behavior will make me happy. No differently than a drug addict.

The child explorer has grown up to be an adult who travels frequently. The inquisitive bookworm craves the exhilaration of learning something new—education may be his or her passion.

The correlation may not be this obvious. Some adults who attend religious services, for instance, may simply be chasing an emotional state they felt during their childhood doing something similar.

I believe the paths we choose in life can be predicted by what made us happy as a child. We are creatures of habit.

Most people don’t want to grow up for this reason. And those that do simply want to escalate the degree in which they pursue the same emotional states.

We all chase emotions. We all do what we think will make us happy.

But the sad truth is that nothing we do will truly make us happy. We keep chasing that emotional high all our lives. And just like the drug addict, we have to increase the dosage to get to the same level.

We need a source of true happiness that exists apart from us and our actions.

Objective, true happiness.

That’s what we all need.

This weekend was insane. I battled through totally random physical pains to venture out on Friday and Saturday night. I obtained these random pains during the week. I injured my right shoulder helping push my brother’s car out of the snow on Thursday night. On Friday morning, it was all I could do to lift up my arm to operate my computer mouse. I also still had to dig my car out of the snow in order to make it to Friday’s wine party. Let me tell you… Digging through solid ice does quite a number on lower backs.

But I pressed on. After a week of being snowed in, I was determined to make it out to the weekend festivities.

Friday night was the monthly wino party. This month’s theme was French wine (et fromage) and was held at Laura’s place. The last time we had the wine party there, it was total carnage. I had high hopes for this month.

It turned out to be more laid back and low-key this month. There were only seven of us. But it was still cool. We talked a lot, and I got to know Laura’s husband Chris—who I had not previously met. He has some good childhood stories. Including how he attended Cherrydale Christian School (like me), but was expelled. He was expelled from a lot of schools. Ha, ha. But he’s awesome. Reminds me of Jay Jay.

During the day on Saturday, I went to the tanning bed. For whatever reason, I really got burned this time. My shoulders and chest were bright red and itching.

Regardless, I was going out that night to Georgetown.

I arrived in Georgetown around 10 PM and parked in the InPhonic parking garage (I had interviewed there a few weeks ago & made friends with the gate operator). He let me park in the reserved area.

I got to Blue Gin and didn’t recognize anyone. It was a joint birthday party for my friend (and ex-coworker) Ann and her best friend Bianca. When I arrived, I only saw Bianca’s friends there. I tried to talk to the first two girls I came across, but they were really shy & quiet (they were like that the entire night). I spotted Ann’s friend Jen and her boyfriend. …I think his name is Chris. I swear, I can’t remember his name. I blame the alcohol. Anyway, he’s a totally cool dude, who lives in South Riding. We’re practically neighbors. We were both out of our element and wishing we could go to a dive bar elsewhere (I think he actually snuck out for an hour or so to another bar).

More familiar faces showed up. Ann arrived. Ben arrived. Even Lucia and her friend showed up. I believe that was all the people from Sprint.

When I first went up to the bar, I forced myself to start a conversation with the bartender. This wasn’t hard, since she was stunning. It was made even easier after she spoke. I recognized her accent quickly and started speaking Czech to her. “Ahoy! Jak se máte?” She smiled widely and laughed. After a couple more trips to the bar and some nice tips, I started getting free drinks. Though I’ve resolved to never drink alcohol in venues where I’ll be approaching strangers, I just couldn’t resist the bartender’s company.

I don’t know that there’s much more to say about the evening. There was a lot of dancing and a lot of photo taking. It seemed like everyone had a digital camera in their hand. Our flashes lit up an entire corner of the club.

The biggest disappointment to me was that every woman at the party was either married or accompanied by her boyfriend. I swear, it was a total tease-fest. I did meet one girl (not part of our party), when her boyfriend went looking for the bathroom. Her name was Chrissy. She was a lot of fun. …And a close dancer. If it wasn’t for my great empathy for the boyfriend, I’d have a new friend today. Instead, I bought her a drink as a thank you and told her to go dance with the one who brought her there.

Not long after that, I decided to pack it in and head home.

The party was a lot of fun, but it was also really frustrating. I think I need to go to more singles bars. Ha, ha.

Here are some delicious pictures…