I've been very quiet for a little while now. Since the beginning of April, I've stepped back from everything for a few months. I've not been out 'sarging' in that time as work has taken over. But even since then, I've stepped back for reasons other than work. And on reflection, I think that despite some success with the few months I've been gameing, there was always something I found deeply uncomfortable with the whole concept of considering myself a 'pick up artist', or honestly even about reading through different methodologies and concepts to do with approaching women.

Something about it - something - just didn't feel right.

At the same time, as I backed off from the game, I realised that other things hadn't changed. I was back in my old modes of going out, getting trashed, and yes having a good time with friends, but not actually talking to any of the hundreds of girls I'd see walking around and like the look of. I did enjoy these weeks, don't get me wrong. They were the final weeks living with my friends from University, the end of four years of living with some really amazing people. I wanted to enjoy them. And I did (or I think I did - much of it remains a blur!).

I've since moved out of my shit student house. And this weekend, I moved into my new apartment. Its at the other end of the scale to where I was before - in the city centre with a stunning view, brand new apartment. So, living in the city, it seemed daft not to go out on Saturday night. I contacted two 'PUA' friends, and we met up for a few pints.

My first sarge in months...

I'll admit, I struggled. All night, I opened just one set. Before then, I bottled a few more. One was in Peacocks. I was at the bar waiting to be served, and a two set wandered up next to me. Four months ago, this would have been straight forward - I'd have just talked to them. But now? I just froze. I turned to them, and took a deep breath in... But nothing came out. I just stood there. Then I got my drink. And then I turned away, and left them to it.

We headed outside where it was quiet. As we did, I was absolutely kicking myself. I knew it was so much easier than that. I knew all I had to do was open one set, and I'd be happy for the night. I knew this because I've done it before, and I've succeeded before. I ended up getting talking to some blokes nearby, asking them the football score. I figured if I couldn't talk to guys, I'd never talk to girls. At least I'd managed that much.

We left Peacock and headed to Heebie Jeebies. We went out into the court yard. Both of my wings opened sets each. I knew it was my turn. I turned to my right and spotted a two set, a gorgeous dark haired girl, and a decent looking blonde. I told myself 'Well, you're going to do this. So just get on with it'. My feet started moving towards them, and I was locked in. This felt familiar. I was committed now, walking towards them. To turn away would have been nothing short of unforgivable.

I walked up to the blonde, smiled, took a deep breath, and asked her: "Excuse me, I need you to help me settle an argument we're having. Custard, right. Do you have it hot or cold?"

For fuck sake - that fucking opener! It was alright, the point was to open a set. But fucking hell...

We chatted for 10 minutes, and my wings came in and helped. I did isolate with the blonde (the brunette, who said she was 29 but didn't look a day over 21, was married), and tried to go kino. But it wasn't great. And I just couldn't stop talking about fucking custard.

Finally, we ejected. And that was it for the night. One of my wings had to head off shortly after, and I stayed out with the other getting very very drunk, but not approaching anymore. We'd not seen each other for a while, and it was good to catch up.

The set itself went abysmally badly. But, the important thing was very simple: I'd gone out to town, and I'd approached. In that moment, I had infinitely more success than I've had in the last three months, when I've not been approaching. I'm glad I've finally taken responsibility for this part of my life again.

So, I'm left with a number of observations and reflections, all of which are going to inform my re-entry into the werid world of pick up. They are as follows:

1. Fuck the theory. Fuck the books. Fuck the strategies and the routines and everything else that fills the pages of the endless e-books written by egotistical morons who, not content with mastering the female species (those of them that have), have decided to try and master the male species as well.
2. In sum, fuck being a pick up artist.
3. Fuck not drinking when I'm 'sarging'. I like having a drink, I like relaxing. Ok, so I'm incoherent after a few hours. I'll approach like nuts for the first few hours, and then jump around like a lunatic for the last few hours.
4. Fuck 'sarging' as well for that matter. I'm just going out with friends, with the intention being to approach any girls I see that I like. That's not 'sarging', it doesn't need a special name, it doesn't need jargon attaching to it. That's simply 'going out'. I don't want to sometimes be in 'sarge' mode and sometimes be in 'non-sarge' mode. I just want to be able to speak to girls whenever the fancy takes me.

And finally, with regards to approaches. I want to experiement, and I want to try and go as natural as possible. I want to go and introduce myself, and just talk about whatever. Custard served its purpose on Saturday - it gave me something to say when I needed something to say. Fine. But I've got angry with it before, and I don't want to have to get angry with it again.

Custard is a dead end street. I should get that tattoo'd somewhere.

But more than anything - and more positively - I want to get out again. I want to go out regularly, and when I'm out, I want to talk to more girls. Enough of this 'good things come to those who wait' bollocks - good things don't come to those who wait! Good things come to those who get off their arses, who take responsibility for their lives, who say to themselves 'thats what I want for myself, so I'm going to fucking go and get it'.

You see, I'm really, really good at doing that. I've got a great and well paying job right now because I've taken action, and gone and got it. I've got a great flat because I've taken action and gone out and got it. I've always succeeded when I've taken control, taken responsibility, and taken it upon myself to achieve my aims.

I've had a few months away, during which time I've realised a few things about this whole thing.

Now I'm back. And I'm not in any mood to stand still for long!