My First Field Report

Alright, so this post is supposed to epitomize the worst case Average Frustrated Chump. This is my first "Field Report" in the sense that this is the first time I've ever really talked to a stranger in any field (Well, there was actually one incident before this, several years back, where I opened a guy about hockey. The conversation went fine, but I was shaking for hours afterwards. This was apart of the Style Life 30 Day Challenge. My anxiety was so bad that I remember the incident as well as the night I lost my virginity. The guy was in his thirty five, wearing a Bruins hat, overweight with a beer gut that would be a full blown keg in a few years. No facial hair, cleave shaven that day. This is how bad my anxiety was).

Anyways, this was the first girl I've ever spoken to in the field.

Jamie Liu (FR)

So, I was at the Starbucks, sitting at a counter with three empty seats next to me, writing a story, and you know, doing my thing. HB 7.5 walks in the door with a coffee thermos, obviously not brought from Starbucks. She's Asian, I'm Asian, and instead of choosing a spot at the end of the counter, she takes one right next to me (This was obvious an IOI). I take this as an obvious sign of, please talk to me. So, I'm thinking, if I can't open this girl, I will never, ever be able to initiate a conversation with anyone (While true, this isn't the kind of dialogue you want running in your head, ever. It's way too negative, and it's putting far too much investment into a single encounter. This is coming from a scarcity mindset, where you have so few girls to choose from that you cling on desperately onto anything with a vagina. Obviously, not a good mindset to have when approaching anyone)

So, I opened with, “Lol (lol), you're not buying coffee from Starbucks.” She smiled and agreed that the thermos had painted her hand red. She got out a Mac computer, opened up a word processor, so I asked her about her work, blah blah, attempted to carry on a normal conversation. Instead of building value or doing anything productive, I talked about nothing because in my mind, I freaked the fuck out (One of the things I want to point out is that everything I'm saying here is correct. Every single fucking thing. The problem is that I am verbally abusing myself. The mood is way too negative, and when you are first learning anything, you have to focus on the positives. Focusing on the negatives is beating the figurative dead horse. Of course you're not going to be good at it, it's new to you! Focus on the positives so you don't get discouraged. What happened, is that after this incident, I actually stopped any sort of contact with PUA because of the verbal lashings. That's not how you get better. Laugh off the failure, so you can continue. One of the best thing Tyler Durden said was that he was never, never hard on himself after any failures. He reframed the entire night, looked at what he did right, and examined how he could improve. He never criticized Tyler Durden the person but his tactics. Criticize the actions you do, but never hate yourself as a person.)

I've been reading a lot of Eckhart Tolle's The Power of Now, and I've been trying to quiet down my thoughts. It had been mildly successful for the majority of the day, until I began talking to this girl, where the internal shouts of “FUCK FUCK FUCK, WHAT AM I GOING TO SAY NEXT” begins to kick in (Here, I was being too impatient with myself. Quieting down the ego takes place over time. Here I read something, and I expected to change a lifetime of bad habits)

“I AM MORE RETARDED THAN A CRACK BABY”

“FUCK, DID I INDIRECTLY CALL HER UGLY?” (I mentioned something about squinty eyes, which may or may not have come off wrong)

and

“I HOPE I'M NOT SHOUTING, LIKE I AM IN MY THOUGHTS!” (From newer experience, I'm pretty sure my voice fluctuated like a kid in puberty)

Anyways, I fumbled through the conversation, and eventually, we end up on the topic of writing. Which is fantastic, because that's my forte, my niche, my squeeze, etc. She asked for help on her creative writing paper, and I offered my brilliant assistance (Alright, I jumped and shoved help in her face like the worst Mr. Nice Guy ever, which was bad, because then I started thinking about how I was being too nice and far too AFC, which escalated my internal monologue to a high pitch screech that was shattering my brain).

So, naturally, she's curious because I offer her basic writing advice. She asks what I'm writing about. Instead of saying something funny or lying, I tell the truth, “I am writing about dead babies (It's more complicated than, but these are my exact words). She looks at me, not sure if I'm joking. This is where I should have played it off as an attempt at humor, but instead, I tried to justify the artistic value about dead children (Nothing more edgier than abortions these days. All the cool kids are doing it). I mumbled some stuff about Stephen King, along the lines of, “Man, we share the same first name, so I can write very edgy stuff, because we have the same name. You see my name is Stephen...” After, I shut my mouth, and internally cringed as I replayed every single word multiple times. (Out of the entire interaction, this is probably the most congruent with myself. I do write about dead babies, so I talked about dead babies. The self always comes out. Now that I'm reading this, I feel no matter how much I was trying to be serious, I don't think anyone could have taken any of these statements as an actual fact)

She turned back to her work, and then for the next half hour, we talked sporadically, and I happened to find out we graduated with the same major. We talked about that. At this point, I think she's a bit weirded out, the voice in my head is telling me to shoot off my foot, so I can get it out of my god damn mouth, and I feel the entire thing is becoming incredibly awkward (In actuality, I don't think she was too freaked out by my minor eccentricities, but I sure as hell was freaking myself out).

So, within a few minutes, I'm having a full on panic attack, and she's back to focusing on her work. I have to excuse myself, saying I drank too much caffeine (Which I had, it was my fifth cup within an hour). She asked for my name, saying she wanted to be facebook friends. I gave it to her, and then ran out of there with my literary tale between my legs (This is going to be a recurring theme, of me exiting the set far too early because I feel like I'm on the edge of having a heart attack.)

So, I messed up horrifically (You need to write more of the self-hating stuff as a joke. This would minimize the emotional pain.) (I know, I should be using more positive internal language), but I still potentially managed get some contact information out of it. Yeah, I know, it's pathetic, but it was the first girl who I ever opened semi-successfully (An opening is an opening. This was a full fledged opener, with a girl who was into me [during aspects of the interaction])

End Field Report

It's okay to freak out when you're doing your first couple of opens. It happens. The only thing I was used to talking to was myself, my cheating ex-girlfriend, and dirty talking to porn stars on my computer screen. When you first start opening, do it, say something fucking retarded, get blown out, and then REFRAME it during a field report. The real importance of writing field reports is that you can reframe the conversation, so the incident becomes apart of a learning process or a humorous incident rather than ultimate failure or a lost opportunity (Strive for an abundance mindset). Objectivity is a must if you want to get better, but it has to be truly objective. If you are stating something that happened, but you're using words like "Terrible" "Horrifically" and etc. then you are stating an objective fact with negative undertones. Negativity will never help your game. The only thing it's going to do is discourage you from progress.