Pet My Dog

I want to share a little story with you guys.  Now, I’m not super comfortable posting intimate details of my personal life online, but I feel like this story embodies one of the most important reasons a man can and should become good with women.  The funny thing about this story is, as it was happening in real time, I thought NOTHING bout this principle, or “game,” or any type of psychological manipulation.  It was just something that unfolded naturally for me at the time.  It wasn’t until even a couple of days later it occurred to me that anything out of the ordinary had taken place.

A little background:

I need to explain something about myself before we get started.  I don’t hate dogs, or pets in general.  I’ve had a couple of dogs throughout my life that stayed in my home and were pets to my family and myself.  These dogs had my heart.  I absolutely loved them.  I pet them and played with them, and enjoyed their company.  But, and this is a big BUT.  I HATE dog hair.  I hate it on my clothes.  I hate it when it gets on my hands.  In fact, one of the big compromises I had to make when I was with my ex was letting the dog stay in the house because I hate dog hair on my furniture.

On to the story:

It was a pretty typical night off for me.  I was playing my guitar with a buddy at an acoustic gig at a quaint little dive bar in town (thoroughly enjoying myself).  During a break, I check my phone and there’s a text from one of my FB’s.  She’s wondering what I’m up to and if I want to “hang” tonight.  I’m down, and tell her to come out where I’m playing.  She shows up a bit later with a friend, and they proceed to enjoy the show for the rest of the evening.

Now the night is over and my FB tells me she has to take her friend back to her place to get her car. (she usually comes to my place).  She asked me to just come to her place tonight, and it wasn’t far so I didn’t mind at all.  I follow them back to her place.  The friend retrieves her vehicle and heads home as we go inside to “hang.”

Of course, as soon as we step foot inside the door, her faithful companion is there to greet her with big ol dog hugs and kisses.  Still no problem at all for me.  She spends a few minutes giving fido a little attention, and as she is doing so, she turns to me and says, “isn’t she so cute?”  “Aww, yeah, you can tell she really loves you” 🙂  Then it happens.  She says, “you should pet her.”  I didn’t think about it.  I just said, “nah, I’m good.”

Now when I say I didn’t think about it, I mean, I just really didn’t want to per her dog.  I wasn’t playing games, and I wasn’t trying to be rude, or to be an asshole.  My tone was clear, and gentile.  I wasn’t angry or upset.  It didn’t feel like a confrontation at all to me.  It had the same feeling as saying no to the cashier at the drive through when she asks if I’d like to super size that.  I just REALLY didn’t WANT to pet the fucking dog, just like I really didn’t want the large coke.  Thanks for asking, but no.

Then she gives me a little scowl and says more forcefully,

“Pet My Dog”

Again, I answer, “no, I don’t want to pet the dog.”

Now she’s looking me in the eyes and says, “Ok, if you want to have sex with me tonight, you’re going to pet my dog.”

“OK.”  “I’ll catch ya later.”  I got about two steps towards the door, and she grabbed my by the shirt and pulled me into her bedroom, and we, uh….”hung out.”

So the fuck what right?  Some of you already get exactly what I’m saying here.  Some of you still need help.  Ok, replace “pet my dog,” with “buy me dinner.” “Take me shopping.”  “Stop spending so much time with your loser friends.”  “Make me your girlfriend.”  “Buy me a ring.”  “Don’t do (insert your favorite thing to do).”  “Do (insert something you hate).”

You get me now?  Why does this matter, and what does it mean?  Well, for one, it means that I’m completely outcome independent.  I’m high value, I’m far from desperate, and I don’t give much of a fuck about anything because if I’m not having sex with her tonight, I’ll be having sex with someone else tomorrow.

It’s in a woman’s DNA to occasionally “shit test” us.  They can’t help it, and I believe most do it subconsciously.  It’s just one of the ways that chicks use to determine what kind of man they’re dealing with.  Most dudes will gladly compromise themselves in many ways, just in the hopes of being the “nice guy” and maybe “earning” some sex at some point in the future.  Actually, we do it all the time.  What really sucks is that a lot of the time it’s some compromise so small, and seemingly insignificant, that we don’t even recognize we’re doing it at the time.  No big deal, you might have said in that situation.  Pet the dog, get some sex.  Probably an easy compromise in most men’s minds.

I want to be very clear on this point.  I am NOT advocating arguing with women about petty shit, or construing everything they say or do as some kind of shit test to be “won” by you.  I’m not saying if you pet her dog, or make small compromises that genuinely don’t bother you at all, you’re some kind of pussy.  What I am saying is know thy self and act accordingly, because women do lose respect quickly for dudes who have no principles or are pushovers.

Fuck man, I’ve been there.  I’ve been the dude that compromised my life all the way into nothing.  All the way to the point where I was no longer myself, but some sack of skin that looked like me, but acted and did what my woman wanted me to do.

There is one reason and one reason only that I am now living my life completely free to do as I choose.  One reason why I am outcome independent.  One reason why no woman has my balls in her purse.

Because I have OPTIONS.

Options give me power.  I have options because I learned how to GET GOOD WITH WOMEN.  I learned how to build a base of women that WANT to be around me, and WANT to keep me sexually fulfilled.  I don’t live in fear of pissing off “my girl” and going a week/month without sex.

And here’s the coolest thing.  If all of my FB’s disappeared tomorrow, I KNOW I have the skills necessary to replace them in very short order.  I KNOW I have the skills to go out a few times in a week and get laid at least once.

You can pet the dog if you want.  I’m more of a cat man. 😉

Until next time, here’s to being THE man.

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