neverkissed
Baldcel, Wristcel, Ethnic-cel, Autistcel
★
- Joined
- Jan 28, 2021
- Posts
- 8
I'm fairly moneymaxxed for my working-class town, especially since I work remotely and make an American-level salary. You may know that UK salaries are way lower. I thought splurging money on a bitch would make her at least feel indebted and obliged to give me pussy. The fact is it doesn't. And I've realised this because I blew £180 (USD 238) on a date and got absolutely nothing for my troubles. I didn't even get her revulsion hidden from my face. It's not the first time this has happened and, granted, I'm an idiot.
I found the girl on Tinder, only after photoshopping my pics and fibbing about my height. I immediately led with us going to one of the best restaurants in the city, and she had "retail worker" in her bio so I knew she couldn't afford it. My plan was to betabuxx a poor foid like her, hopefully get laid, and then ghost her. Even with all the theatrics and deceptions, I've realised I have no hope in hell of keeping a conversation going beyond three exchanges. I just have to lead with her self-interest if I want any traction. She was hesitant at first but I threw in ice skating and she agreed. Of course, this is all pretty pricey for a working-class person, especially on the same night.
So we met up and I could tell she was immediately disappointed but she made an effort to only show maybe half her disgust. We went ice skating first and she didn't know how to do it well but I did so I asked to hold her while she learnt. I tried to be funny about it but it came off cringy and socially inept. She said she can learn by herrself in a sort of forced cute-sounding way but with some sternness in her voice. Then she left me and pretty much enjoyed the experience with no thought of me.
It was only as our session was ending that she came and asked, "So we are going for dinner, now?" And I nodded like a bitch instead of saying "No!" and cutting my losses. I don't know. I thought I still had a chance. We went for dinner and she ordered the most expensive steak on the menu and a bottle of fairly pricey wine. I was excited at the prospect of her getting drunk -- by her own accord and without my encouragement -- maybe making her consider things in my favour. And, I thought to myself, if she's spending this recklessly, she must be planning to offer me something in return.
Everything started off awkward with us both glancing at our phones every few seconds. I couldn't think of anything to say. As I got drunk I started opening up more, but only to talk about my autistic interests such as WWE. We had our food and she ate like a pig before asking for a second helping. I was shocked any woman can eat like this, but I found out the second helping -- a 1Kg ribeye steak meant for two to share-- was actually to go. Ok, I thought, I suppose she wants to have breakfast in the morning. I'd strategically let slip that my place is nearby and I have a 43-inch TV with Dolby Vision and Dolby Atmos. The last part seemed to intrigue her.
As we are getting up to leave, I can't think of anything to say to lead the conversation in the desired direction. I just blurt out: I guess we are going back to mine. She nonchalantly says she has to work in the morning, without the slightest bit of remorse or shame. I tried bargaining and asking her to come just for an hour to finish our conversation. This was a lousy thing to say as "our conversation" had been nothing more than a series of start-and-stop random topics that never got anywhere or aroused any excitement. I've let the alcohol inspire too many fantasies and I'm diamonds at this stage. I want her. I need to feel the inside of a woman. Tonight's the night. Otherwise, why'd she rinse me?
She insists that she can't come over even just for a second. Then she looks at her phone and says it's quite late so she needs to get going. I was dumbstruck at this point and said a muffled bye. She went in for a half-arsed hug and our torsos and crotches didn't even meet. I guess that was something. With that she turns her back walks away, never turning again to wave a cute, if perfunctory, goodbye --untouched 1Kg ribeye steak in her bag.
I walked a few minutes to my sweet-smelling luxury city centre apartment, where I collapsed into my pillow and cried uncontrollably for hours. It wasn't the money that hurt me. I have nothing to spend it on besides body-destroying copes anyway. It was that, after giving her such an experience that was clearly new to her, she still couldn't give me a full hug, let alone the spicier stuff. God knows Chad need not spend anything. It is her who would steal and forage and beg just for one round with Chad. It may come across as if I was too presumptive. I wasn't. We had unmistakably suggestive conversations before we met, and there had been more than a few hints about how the night would progress.
Of course, I now understand that I was simply a mark who got played.
I hope that steak gives her food poisoning. It will also be my final time doing something so stupid. I should have transacted with an escort instead. At least they have a better understanding of service level agreements and they're more honest. I denounce foids and if I see one starving in the street, I will do nothing to help. I will never smile in a foid's direction again. I won't devote another second of my time to one. I will not do anyone any harm but it is also my right to decide that I will never relieve a woman of either the slightest inconvenience or acute suffering.
As always, thank you for your support and perspective.
I found the girl on Tinder, only after photoshopping my pics and fibbing about my height. I immediately led with us going to one of the best restaurants in the city, and she had "retail worker" in her bio so I knew she couldn't afford it. My plan was to betabuxx a poor foid like her, hopefully get laid, and then ghost her. Even with all the theatrics and deceptions, I've realised I have no hope in hell of keeping a conversation going beyond three exchanges. I just have to lead with her self-interest if I want any traction. She was hesitant at first but I threw in ice skating and she agreed. Of course, this is all pretty pricey for a working-class person, especially on the same night.
So we met up and I could tell she was immediately disappointed but she made an effort to only show maybe half her disgust. We went ice skating first and she didn't know how to do it well but I did so I asked to hold her while she learnt. I tried to be funny about it but it came off cringy and socially inept. She said she can learn by herrself in a sort of forced cute-sounding way but with some sternness in her voice. Then she left me and pretty much enjoyed the experience with no thought of me.
It was only as our session was ending that she came and asked, "So we are going for dinner, now?" And I nodded like a bitch instead of saying "No!" and cutting my losses. I don't know. I thought I still had a chance. We went for dinner and she ordered the most expensive steak on the menu and a bottle of fairly pricey wine. I was excited at the prospect of her getting drunk -- by her own accord and without my encouragement -- maybe making her consider things in my favour. And, I thought to myself, if she's spending this recklessly, she must be planning to offer me something in return.
Everything started off awkward with us both glancing at our phones every few seconds. I couldn't think of anything to say. As I got drunk I started opening up more, but only to talk about my autistic interests such as WWE. We had our food and she ate like a pig before asking for a second helping. I was shocked any woman can eat like this, but I found out the second helping -- a 1Kg ribeye steak meant for two to share-- was actually to go. Ok, I thought, I suppose she wants to have breakfast in the morning. I'd strategically let slip that my place is nearby and I have a 43-inch TV with Dolby Vision and Dolby Atmos. The last part seemed to intrigue her.
As we are getting up to leave, I can't think of anything to say to lead the conversation in the desired direction. I just blurt out: I guess we are going back to mine. She nonchalantly says she has to work in the morning, without the slightest bit of remorse or shame. I tried bargaining and asking her to come just for an hour to finish our conversation. This was a lousy thing to say as "our conversation" had been nothing more than a series of start-and-stop random topics that never got anywhere or aroused any excitement. I've let the alcohol inspire too many fantasies and I'm diamonds at this stage. I want her. I need to feel the inside of a woman. Tonight's the night. Otherwise, why'd she rinse me?
She insists that she can't come over even just for a second. Then she looks at her phone and says it's quite late so she needs to get going. I was dumbstruck at this point and said a muffled bye. She went in for a half-arsed hug and our torsos and crotches didn't even meet. I guess that was something. With that she turns her back walks away, never turning again to wave a cute, if perfunctory, goodbye --untouched 1Kg ribeye steak in her bag.
I walked a few minutes to my sweet-smelling luxury city centre apartment, where I collapsed into my pillow and cried uncontrollably for hours. It wasn't the money that hurt me. I have nothing to spend it on besides body-destroying copes anyway. It was that, after giving her such an experience that was clearly new to her, she still couldn't give me a full hug, let alone the spicier stuff. God knows Chad need not spend anything. It is her who would steal and forage and beg just for one round with Chad. It may come across as if I was too presumptive. I wasn't. We had unmistakably suggestive conversations before we met, and there had been more than a few hints about how the night would progress.
Of course, I now understand that I was simply a mark who got played.
I hope that steak gives her food poisoning. It will also be my final time doing something so stupid. I should have transacted with an escort instead. At least they have a better understanding of service level agreements and they're more honest. I denounce foids and if I see one starving in the street, I will do nothing to help. I will never smile in a foid's direction again. I won't devote another second of my time to one. I will not do anyone any harm but it is also my right to decide that I will never relieve a woman of either the slightest inconvenience or acute suffering.
As always, thank you for your support and perspective.