The Costs of Playerhood

Roosh in his book "Day Bang" explains arguably the key ingredient to being a player.  It isn't confidence.  It isn't working out or looks.  And it isn't money.

It's failure.

It's knowing that you are going to get shot down the majority of the time and to simply keep at it until you inevitably succeed.  Oh sure, there are some things you can do to "tighten up" your game (environment selection, practice, situational awareness, working out, clothing, etc), but even Roosh admits players at the top of their game will have a maximum close rate of around 40%. 

Now, the reason I bring this up is because (hubris and arrogance aside) I was a player.  And when I was a player, my friends would always ask, "how did I do it?"  I'm not particularly tall, I'm kind of skinny, when I was at the "top" of my game I least physically fit, and for the majority of my 20's I was making less than $30,000 per year.  But sure enough pretty much every hot girl that walked into the dance scene was mine.  If there was a social event,  I would be "that short skinny guy" who brought the "Russian ballet dancer" to the party (true story).  If I wanted to and had enough forewarning, I could pretty much guarantee myself a pretty girl for a date.  The irony is of course, that's what people saw from the outside.  The finished product.  The tall drink of water on my arm.  What they didn't see was the behind the scenes action of how sausage was made and thus thought it was all puppies, chocolates and unicorns.  They didn't realize there are genuine and severe costs to being a player, costs so great it makes you quit.

First, understand the time commitment involved.  Again I reference Day Bang (though I'm sure Roosh mentions this in all of his books), where Roosh, right up front addresses the amount of time you will have to commit in order to succeed.  He does not beat around the bush, likening being a player to a sport.  You NEED to practice, regularly, everyday, 3 hours a day to get good at it.  And he's right. 

Now, did I go out and treat it like a sport?  No, but I did get to the point of being able to remove any emotion from getting shot down.  And I did get to the point to not take any personal offense or umbrage when a girl shot me down.  It requires you give up a little bit of humanity and treat it like a genuine, real and passionless game.  You almost have to get to the level of ignoring the fact the girls are fellow humans and look at them more like hurdles or benchmarks to overcome.  I never achieved 40%, maybe at best 30%.  But for all the tall drinks of water I brought into a club or a party, there were at least 7 or 8 that shot me down.

Regardless, the point is not how you need to become dispassionate about it (though that helps), it's to point out some math.  To get shot down 7-8 times just to get one date means you got to spend at least 2 hours failing before you get that 15 minutes of success.  And that's a low estimate.  The average guy is more likely to spend at least 10 hours getting one date, the majority of that time will be spent being shot down.  Consequently, unless you can remove your soul a little bit from this process, it will start to affect your personality, ego and self-esteem.  Both of these (the time commitment and the constant assailing of your ego) are costs that often go unnoticed in the sausage-making process that is known as "playerhood."

Second, say you do succeed.  Again, to the outside observer, all they see is you punching above your weight with that tall drink of water on your arm.  "See" being the key verb here.  They don't TALK to the tall drink of water.  They don't LISTEN to the tall drink of water.  All they see is her physical beauty, 95% of the time is her best and only asset. 

Until a woman has a child, gets divorced, has to support herself or goes through some other life-trial or tribulation that builds character, you can expect an inverse relationship between the looks of a woman and her personality.  The old adage - intelligence, sanity and beauty, pick two - applies here.  Out of the 200+ women I have dated (not lying) there was a DIRECT and STRONG correlation between their beauty and their insanity or lack of intelligence.

The drop dead gorgeous blond that took all the oxygen out of the air at a hangar dance I went to?

2 DUI's, 1 year of "cosmetology school" and kicked out of her parents' home, on again off again collector of welfare.

The Russian ballet dancer?

Former mail order bride of an American sergeant who abused her while they had sex to the point she was hospitalized and was thusly thereafter afraid of sex.

The hot latina that I was going to impress with tickets to the opera? (I was young and stupid)

Wasn't ready until the doors to the opera were closed and we had to wait till intermission (I did not wait till intermission).

The professional trainer?

Talked 3 hours straight.  I LITERALLY got TWO SENTENCES IN.  What did she talk about?  Her ex-boyfriend THE ENTIRE TIME.

The hot ex-girlfriend of a Minnesota Viking whose parents were also billionaires with direct family ties to the Kuomintang party of Taiwan?

Threatened suicide when I didn't buy her a soda at a gas station in St. Louis Park.

Now, I could go on (and on, and on, and on), but you get the point.  You just see some guy driving a Ferrari down the street and envy him. YOu don't see the drama and psychological BS the poor guy has to pay maintaining such a high-maintenance vehicle.

Third, speaking of costs, you still have to spend money.  This can be controlled or limited to a certain extent, but if you want to be a player you at minimum have to GO OUT.  That includes (on the very cheap end) gas to a coffee shop and at minimum $5 for coffee.  On the average end, $10 in gas, $20 in drinks for yourself, maybe even $5 in covers.  AND YOU HAVEN'T EVEN GONE OUT YET.  This is just to get into the game and start wooing potential candidates for a future date.  The dates themselves (if you follow Leykis 101) should not cost more than $40, but heck, that's what you drop on them.  That again doesn't consider ancillary expenses, let alone your time.  You prorate your time at $20 an hour, with $20 in gas and $20 on actual expenditures on your date, you're looking at total costs of at least $100 each date.  Figure a low-end player gets 4 girls a month, 48 girls a year, that's $4,800 a year ON VERY CHEAP DATES, the real figure is certainly higher. 

Now you throw all these together and what do you have?

An already impoverished 20 something blowing AT LEAST $5,000 a year on dates, not to mention committing an amount of his finite time that is equivalent to a part time job ONLY to get shot down the majority of the time and SHOULD HE SUCCEED, it is a 95% guarantee the dates will be pure psychological torture.

Now, you do that for 10 years and (not to be crass) I don't care how long the legs are, how nice the boobs are, or how great the sex is (usually pretty bad), there IS going to be a burn out rate.  I personally don't know how the likes of Roosh, Roissy, etc. do it.  In the end other aspects of life start to appeal to you. 

A quiet night on your own listening to Johnny Coltrane, playing video games, hell, even reading a book is better.  You discover working on motorcycles proves more enjoyable than dating Bambi the Drama Queen.  You discover studying a foreign language proves more intellectually rewarding than suffering another outting with Monique the Sociology Major-Turned Realtor.  You discover hanging out with your buds having a cigar will provide better life-long memories than suffering another ignorant-laced conversation about politics with Lilly the "I'm a Progressive Feminist" Liberal.

The point is, playerism and playerhood is all great and wonderful.  But there's nothing wrong with you if you decide to give it up and opt for more of a MGTOW type lifestyle.  The reason being is it's your life, not theirs.  You don't have to spend your precious few moments on this planet suffering the drama and psychoses of tall drinks of floosy.