About 3 ½ years ago in Washington, D.C., I was getting frustrated because I was finding this consistent pattern of how I’d be telling girls all these amazing, fascinating things about myself, and they’d act bored or unimpressed and things would go nowhere and I’d lose them. This kept happening, and anytime I see something happen again and again, I make the problem a priority to focus on and iron out, so I decided to try what at the time seemed like a radical strategy and one I didn’t really even think would work: I’d focus on telling women as little as possible about myself and just let them talk about themselves.
My first time doing this was on a date with a 21 year old fashion model from Texas who’d just moved to town. I’d met her very briefly on the subway a few nights before, and she knew nothing about me other than my name and that I lived in town, and had only given me her email address. I put together a rather elaborate process to get her on a date despite these facts, which perhaps I’ll go into in another post. She was unsure about me, and wanted to meet for coffee before heading to the comedy show I’d wanted to take her to go see, just to make sure I wasn’t a weirdo and that she liked me.
We sat at a Starbucks for about forty-five minutes, with her talking about herself, her friends, relationship problems her friends were having, and all manner of things, and me simply showing interest and doing some active listening, and saying nothing about myself and her asking me nothing about myself. When it got close to the time for the comedy show, I asked her if she wanted to go, and she replied with an enthusiastic “yes!” During the comedy show, I cracked a few jokes and got physically very close with her, and afterward I invited her home for a nightcap. We went straight home to my place and slept together. She later told me that she didn’t date much and never had hook-ups or one-night stands.