Dinar, the Israeli Bombshell, A Reversal of Fortunes - Opportunity Means Nothing (Part 2/2)

Opportunity Means Nothing (Part 2)

In Part I of "Opportunity Means Nothing", I discussed 3 different perfect 'opportunities' I had in 2007 with the same, beautiful girl where I was too much of a pussy to pull the trigger (or do anything).

Worst of all, these 'opportunities' were literally handed to me and I just didn't have the balls to capitalize. 

And I knew it.

I literally watched each one slip through my hands, as I had so many times in my early 20's.

I was a pussy.

Though I had been in denial for years prior - it was official.

Like everyone else, my non-success is not a product of a lack of work ethic, opportunity or talent.

It is the result of living an overly comfortable life in which you never have to truly challenge yourself to be anything more than "comfortable".

Good fortune and opportunity means nothing if you aren't prepared.  

In fact, the lasting psychological effect of foregoing a perfect opportunity often makes you wish that you never were offered it in the first place. That is called 'regret'.

Even if you are a positive person - you are as likely to remember the missed opportunities than the ones you capitalized on.

At the same time, as I grow older and wiser (I'm turning 33 in September), I realize that beating myself up over missed opportunities does far more damage than missing the actual opportunity.

The only justice or redemption is to, win or lose, try not to let things slip though your hands.

That is what I learned in 2007, and although plenty more "missed opportunities" would be on my resume, the lesson was clear -

I just had to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

Fast Forward 2 Years
(~2 years of 'pick up')

It was almost exactly 23 months from the date that I officially declared myself a total pussy on that perfect Winter day in San Diego.

A lot had changed in 2 years.

In 2008, as part of a 'pick up program', I nailed 12 girls (8 in the final 3 months) - still underachieving by my lofty standards, but certainly more than in any previous year.

I had beaten Approach Anxiety for the most part too. This was a big deal for me.

My 'tolerance to beauty' had increased drastically too. A year in Hollywood and hundreds of hot polite but not super interested girls will do that. 

But mid 2009 is when things started really coming together.

I was starting to Get Laid and I had a suspicion I was actually responsible for it.

Little did I know but I was slowly approaching my Golden Era, a period where I was never more determined and indifferent toward women. The combination was incredibly attractive.

I largely dropped the "PUA" stuff and started to once again realize our groundbreaking theory of "Look Good + Talk to Girl = Get Laid".

Somewhere in there, I began doing what later became our concept of "Screening", which involved quickly touching the girl to see where she stood and communicate my intentions.

The interested girls will stay and play along.

The non-interested girls will comfortably bail without incident.

That is Sexually Availability

I had really found an efficient way to meet the right girls, shed the 'boyfriend material' persona and move faster with women than I ever had.

But even in 2009, other than 1 girl, the top-tier women still weren't coming through. It wouldn't be until I survived the Princess Lacie rollercoaster that I really had a Sense of Entitlement.

That one super hot girl from 2009, however, would leave an indelible imprint on my psyche for the rest of my life.

Dallas-Fort Worth Airport (December 2009)
(the dialogue is just the best as I can remember, there's no way I remember exactly what was said)

I was headed home for Christmas in Florida.

My first flight stopped in Dallas for a 3.5 hour layover. 

I remember sitting in the food court and literally watching 30 people turn their heads as the most beautiful girl I had seen in months passed by. You would have thought it was Troy Aikman.
(Troy Aikman is the Hall of Fame quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys)

Although I was pretty comfortable talking to women, I knew this one was going to be difficult because I still wasn't completely comfortable with others watching me "do my thing". This was the type of girl that guys (and girls to some extent) gawk at and root against anyone that is trying to get at her pussy.

I don't remember exactly what I was thinking, but I knew I had to do something.

Before I knew it, my body stood up and literally started walking to her.

Sure enough, once I got about 10 feet from her, she took an unexpected right turn and went into the bathroom.

Great.

Now I had to stand there and think about it.

Whether she was taking a crap or redoing her makeup - it seemed like she was in there for about 20 minutes. I even thought that she might have slipped by or there was another exit that I was not aware of. 

But eventually, she came out, now carrying her jacket and exposing to the world her irresistible breasts and hour glass figure.

I pulled up along side of her and just said -

How are you?

She either answered quietly or not at all.

I walked along side of her muttering some stuff, waiting for her to jump on something I said.

I got nothing.

In a moment of courage/frustration, I told her -

Stop.

Stop walking.

She slowed down a little bit and looked at me with a blank stare.

I told her to smile.

The blank stare turned to a half smile but quickly vanished.

I told her again -

Stop. Stop walking.

I want to talk to you.

I'm Chris, who are you?

I shook her hand.

She mumbled something again, to which I asked -

What?

Umm, what?

Where are you going?

Where are you headed?

This was hardly going smoothly, even for me at the time.

I felt like I was talking myself, anyone watching nearby probably thought so too.

At this point (I think), she finally said something I could understand -

Coffee.

I said -

No, I mean, where you are you traveling to?

She said with an accent -

New York City.

It was at this point that I realized this girl wasn't great with her English, the entire time I assumed she was definitely not interested.

This was a bit of a relief because unlike many super hot intimidating girls, this girl wasn't very sweet once the conversation started.

I said - 

Cool.

Lets grab coffee.

Cool?

She said -

Yes.

I literally felt like the world had been lifted off my shoulders. This girl was interested.  

I grabbed her hand which was rolling a suitcase and l led in her the direction we had just came, since we had just passed "Peet's Coffee". It was clumsy since both of us had a bunch of bags and she had 2 different purses. This girl had luxury luggage that must have been worth $5,000. Just the bags. Easy.

There was a 3.5 hour layover until my flight to Fort Myers, so I was in no hurry. I needed to find out her plans to make my gameplan.
("just take her into the bathroom", is ridiculous advice - with the security at USA airports that is the LAST place you want to take a classy girl, even if there's a family bathroom with a lock on it.)

Two years ago, this would have been enough, I would have went home pleased with my courage and jerked off. But I wanted more.

Once we sat down, she opened up a little more, she told me her name ("Dinar") and that she was from Israel and "did photography" (which I always assumed meant modeling).

The language barrier still made it pretty bumpy, but it was clear that we enjoyed trying.

Oddly she was staring at me like she either wanted to have sex or was simply examining me for flaws. I remember thinking that it was rather bizarre at the time.

I got up to get some Splenda and came back and sat right next to her.

I put my arm around her and she smiled. 

We talked for about 40 minutes.

My hands explored her legs, but nothing much more than that.

She mumbled something and got up, grabbed her purse and walked back to the bathroom, leaving all of her other bags at the table.

I had no gameplan in mind, I still didn't know when her flight was leaving, but despite the circumstances - I knew that this would probably be my only opportunity with this girl.

I searched on my phone to see if there was a hotel at or near the airport.

When she came back, it was like she was a different person.

She was in a really good mood and was a lot louder.

She definitely took something when she was in the bathroom.
(2 years ago, I wouldn't have known this, but I had seen this many times with the party girls in LA)

She also informed me that her flight had already left(?), not once mentioning when or if it has departed before.

At that point, I knew it was really going to happen with this girl. The hottest one in about 6 years.

I tried to think of a smooth pretense to leave the airport with her, but I had nothing.

The words never seemed to matter to Dinar.

I showed her my phone that had a picture of the Hyatt hotel.

She said -

You are stay there?

I said -

Um. Yeah.

I am staying there.

I really couldn't believe this was happening.

I had gotten my fair share when I moved to Santa Monica earlier that year, nothing as clumsy as this and certainly not with a ridiculously hot girl like this.

After two trips in the wrong direction (something that would also seemingly kill the mood) looking for a shuttle, we just decided to get a taxi and go to the hotel.

She paid. She insisted.  

I went up to the desk, gave them my card and told them to give me the first room available. Dinar and I went to have a drink, she made another 25 minute bathroom stop.

The anticipation was crazy, I even texted two of my friends.

One of them replied that he wasn't surprised and that was really living the dream.

Maybe it seemed like that, but this was my first CRAZY hot girl since I started the pick up stuff.

Eventually, the concierge told me that our room was ready and we went up. 

Unlike some hot girls, Dinar looked even better naked. This girl was right out of the movies.

I'd been some some really hot chicks in my life, but a girl like this via "cold approach", minus a few times I mooched off of some friends that had the balls to talk to girls while I just stood there like a Good Looking Loser, trying to look pretty.

Given the lead up, sexual tension (foreplay is hardly amusing to any heterosexual male) and the growing unknown of the whole thing, it was incredible.

Although I could hardly understand her at times, we both talked about how it was beyond crazy and said we'd stay in touch.

The morning at 10am, we went back to the airport and went about our lives.

I was on Cloud 9. 

Pour Conclure

Unlike 2 years prior with Melissa, there was absolutely no opportunity in this situation.

None whatsoever. 

It was 2 people randomly in a busy airport, with nothing in common, fluent in 2 different languages, headed to 2 totally different cities that lived 2 separate lives from 2 different worlds.

Yet, in a semi-forced, largely awkward way (given the circumstances), I managed to take this closed off dream girl to a hotel room while she seemingly deliberately missed her flight to have sex with me.
(to this day I have no idea if she had already missed her flight, if she lost track of time or if it was intentional - I like to believe the latter!)

I knew that I had created this entire moment. 

EVERY SINGLE PART OF IT.

Years before, this was only something I could have dreamed pulling off. So crafty I would be.

In reality, it happened a lot more different than I thought. It was super choppy, bumpy, plenty of "uh-oh/now what..." moments, weird pauses and even some confusion but the excitement was beyond anything I felt in years.

There was no opportunity. Not even a cue that this girl was interested.

All the excuses were available for me to sit in that food court and finish my sandwich.

But still it happened for me.

I thought about that on my 12-hour flight home that inconveniently put me through Minneapolis and Atlanta. 

After only getting 2.5 hours of sleep the night before, I sat wide awake on the plane thinking to myself -

How did this happen?

Why did this happen?

There was only one answer - 

I created it.

I was prepared. 

This story is an anomaly, maybe a once in a lifetime thing, Getting Laid is usually completely uneventful and predictable, but on any given day - the stars can align and what would seem nearly impossible can unfold right before your very eyes.

But what you don't need is an opportunity. It means nothing.

What you need is preparation and courage.

The big "opportunities" are nothing but preparation and courage.

Sometimes they fall into your lap, other times they will be nearly invisible.

The only thing that matters is that you are ready.