- Joined
- Jul 17, 2013
- Messages
- 1,487
TLDR: met an attractive and bubbly lady in daytime cold approach; set a date for the same evening; had dinner together; kissed her goodbye.
Approach and opening
I took a few days off for a long weekend and made a trip to Moscow. Last Sunday in Victory Park, I was sitting on a bench by a flowerbed along one of the broad pathways leading toward the main memorial on Poklonnaya Gora when a petite lady walked past me. A very slim girl, she had long fair hair, as well as a very attention-grabbing pelvic area and thighs, highlighted by the coral-colored pencil skirt she was wearing to just above the knee, complemented by nude patent heels. The short denim jacket she had on top was cut high enough not to obscure the view of her rear. We'll call her TinyTatarka.
I got up and followed a few dozen paces behind. She made a left turn along one of the tree-lined alleys. I followed. She seemed not to be in a hurry anywhere. After pausing at an outbuilding in front of the chapel, where music was playing, she turned back and returned to the main path, passing me head-on. I walked on and turned right, taking a parallel path, drawing inspiration from the last paragraph of this post. Then I turned right again to get myself back on the main avenue and to figure out where that put me relative to her. She was dawdling somewhat and was well behind. I turned left on the approach to the memorial and took a seat again on another bench. By this time, I was pretty sure she had noticed me too.
I was not exactly dressed fancy. I had felt hot during the past two days walking in the city, so this time I had opted for a tight-fitting white T-shirt, the sort that comes out of a packet and is possibly intended more as an undershirt, but I think it flatters my upper body. I had on a white baseball cap I had bought at a tourist store, and underneath I had navy jeans and matching leather sneakers. I think my musculature is decent due to time spent in the gym, but my overall weight is perhaps 10 kg higher than it should be, with some difficulty losing visceral fat around the waist, so my confidence was about middling. I decided to make the best of the situation.
When the girl caught up, she was surrounded by foreign tourists snapping photos and making a lot of noise. I figured it was now or never. Furthermore, the tourists were all speaking in a (presumably) Far Eastern language that I wasn't familiar with, and the girl was obviously a local, so if I opened loudly in Russian she'd know it was addressed to her. I decided to copy-paste this old approach but simplify the verbal part of the interaction considerably, since I am not as into the swing of things as I was back then, and I hadn't managed to get such a close read on the girl just yet. I drew parallel and quite close, made sure she had seen me and knew I was in her periphery, despite the buzzing tourists, kept my eyes looking straight ahead, and said, loudly:
Marty: You have a very cute walk.
TinyTatarka: (turns to look at me, broadly smiling)
Marty: (turning to meet eyes with her, slow, warm smile) What's your name?
She gave a Tatar name that I didn't catch at first, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I introduced myself. Just then, I wasn't entirely sure that she had bitten, but it became apparent that she'd just moved aside a little to let the tourists pass. She was still smiling. I clasped her hand.
We began conversation. I explained right away that I was just visiting for a few days, and I learned that she had moved to Moscow a year ago; she named her hometown, a city in the Volga Basin. After a couple minutes, I felt it was time to move her.
Marty: Shall we take a seat on one of those benches over there?
TinyTatarka: Certainly.
Marty: Do you prefer a spot in the shade, or in the sunshine?
TinyTatarka: In the sunshine.
We sat reasonably close and started getting to know each other. She was a successful professional, an associate director at a construction firm. I'd put her at about 38, based on some personal information she gave me, but it was hard to tell. She looked pretty young. I handed her my phone and had her enter my number. She told me to look for her on Telegram, and I sent a message to ensure she had my contacts too.
I needed to decide upon the next step pretty quickly, and I didn't really want to attempt to take her anywhere from here in the middle of the day, in the summer sunshine, when I wasn't dressed my best or feeling at my freshest. I had two evenings left in Moscow, and the following day, in the late afternoon, I was seeing an old female friend, one of the four women (excluding relatives) I like best in the world; so tonight would be the best option. Luck, it turned out, was on my side, in the form of a time constraint that I was able to leverage to our joint advantage.
TinyTatarka: Apparently, behind the main memorial, there's a nice view over the city.
Marty: Would you like to go see it together now?
TinyTatarka: (looking at wristwatch) If we have time...
Marty: Do you have an engagement this afternoon?
TinyTatarka: I have a hairdresser's appointment at 14:00.
Perfect! It was around 12:30 now.
Marty: Ah okay! Well if you're busy now, how about dinner this evening?
TinyTatarka: I'd be delighted.
Marty: 19:00? 20:00?
TinyTatarka: Either works for me.
I told her I'd be in touch with a proposal for dinner, wished her a relaxed afternoon at the beauty parlor, and made my exit.
As I retreated back toward the subway station where I had arrived, I considered the above interaction. Two connected points came to mind. First, she had been enormously compliant: upon opening, when moving to the bench, with the number close, and with the dinner invitation (even leaving the exact timing to me). Second, something was telling me I needed to manage my attainability. This was partly occasioned by the compliance, but also by the fact that I was in town only for a few days—a point I had been at pains to repeat several times, to avoid misunderstanding. Nonetheless, she had been happy to make plans. There was something else as well. I noticed I had gotten a reply from her to my initial "Hello TinyTatarka, this is Marty" text, that had been intended only to share my contact details as we sat together and to remind her of my name.
Texting and intermission
Tiny Tatarka: Good day! Glad to meet you.
I realized that I should probably throw out that part of the process that involved sending an icebreaker after approximately 1 to 4 hours. First, I wanted her to think about me when she was in the hairdresser's chair, and if I waited that long, the text would come when she was busy getting her hair done. Second, she had already texted me back, as shown above, so it was ridiculous to wait. Third, I needed to get dinner logistics nailed down.
She had responded as above to my initial contact-sharing text at 12:42, local time, so at 13:01 I sent her the Yandex location page of a restaurant very near my hotel where I had eaten excellently the day before:
Marty: TinyTatarka, if it suits you, I have reserved a table for 19:30 today at this restaurant
TinyTatarka: Yes, certainly. I will make it by that time for sure.
I then sent her a photo of the architecturally iconic external vestibule of the subway station, dating from 1935, that I had taken the day before with the following text:
Marty: The entrance is right by this subway station, but if you prefer, I can order a taxi for you
TinyTatarka: Thank you for the offer, but I don't need a taxi. I will make my own way there. I'll get a bit of a walk in this nice weather.
Marty: I look forward to seeing you with your fresh haircut. See you this evening!
She placed a "heart" reaction on the last message. I went to see one more attraction, the view of the city from the Sparrow Hills. In front of the huge Moscow State University building, students were recording a TikTok video of partner dances. The girls were all in long, tight-fitting dresses, half of them in a creamy color, half in black; the young men had on matching tight pants and sleeveless shirts. I walked down to the embankment and took a riverboat to Kitai-Gorod, then went back to the hotel to rest. In case I wanted to invite TinyTatarka back that evening, I took care not to mess up the hotel room that the housekeeping staff had beautifully tidied.
Date and close
To contrast with my rather informal appearance on the approach, I put on a light cotton button-down in French blue, pressed indigo jeans, deep-brown polished Oxfords, and a new ivory-colored blazer that fits me excellently. My confidence had been boosted by TinyTatarka's compliance so far, but nonetheless I followed process and fired off an anti-flaking text at 18:56:
Marty: Good evening, TinyTatarka, I will be at the venue right on time. -Marty
TinyTatarka: Good evening, Marty, very good. According to Yandex Maps I'll be at the location in another 35 minutes.
Marty: Excellent!
At 19:33:
Marty: I am at the entrance to the establishment.
TinyTatarka: Very good. I am 7 to 10 minutes late, unfortunately.
Marty: Not to worry
I reported to the hostess stand and made it clear that I had arrived, but that the lady would be there in a few minutes, because the restaurant had a policy of canceling reservations 15 minutes after the appointed time.
TinyTatarka showed up in the same nude heels as before, but paired with a cream-colored pencil skirt this time, and on top she had a deep cut sleeveless blouse, showing off both her decolletage and the region of upper arms and shoulders that can be so bewitching on women. Her chest, by the way, was pretty small, but I like it that way; not every man does, I know. I like both actually.
I guided her through the door by the small of the back. Obviously, the hostess recognized me from a few minutes before, and led us without a word to our table.
Conversation over dinner was warm and flowing and touched on multiple subjects, many of which we connected on. She had an ethos of wanting to achieve much, and got up early every day to facilitate this. I praised her, but told her to take care of herself as well and not to burn the candle at both ends. I used Cody's technique of telling her she looked cute after returning to the table, then quickly changing the subject. Early on in the evening, when she asked me where I was staying, I made sure she knew that my hotel was right around the corner, in case there was a chance that she'd agree to a pull. There were a few moments of tension, where we stared into each other's eyes, which she feebly tried to defuse by saying such things as "What? You're embarrassing me!" while smiling broadly with sparkling eyes.
I made a slight screw-up on the kino toward the end of the evening. After dessert, I'd wanted to use the old standard of taking her hand at a high point in the conversation and saying something like "I mean, you're funny, and you're charming, but I feel like there's more there that you're afraid to show. But you shouldn't be." (Those particular words weren't relevant to the conversation, so I picked something else according to the context, but the spirit was the same.) However, what I failed to notice was that her hands were actually clasped right up close to her chest, and as I reached to take her hand, I accidentally grabbed one of her boobs as well (remember, they are tiny and not too noticeable) and to make matters worse, right at that moment, the waitress showed up with the check that I had requested a few moments previously. To draw a line under this unfortunate event, I cut out what I was saying altogether, apologized gently to the girl, and then attended with great seriousness to paying the check and figuring the tip amount!
To her credit, she took it extremely well, considering that a man who had been polite and warm all evening had suddenly fondled one of her breasts accidentally right in front of the restaurant staff, and brushed it off. We went outside to walk. I normally walk with the woman on my right, she taking my right arm, but TinyTatarka had her purse on her left side, so I asked which way round she preferred to walk with men. She said she didn't mind, but didn't move her purse, so the upshot was that I switched sides and had her take my left arm. Some women seem to prefer this lately, I've noticed, including "Botticelli", so I'm slowly getting used to it no sense in being stuck in one's ways
We strolled along the Boulevard Ring, arm-in-arm, deep in conversation. I knew that she was getting up early Monday morning, and that it would be her bedtime soon. I kissed her about halfway along the tree-lined central footpath, in the evening light: The sun sets late at that time of year in Moscow, and it was still a half-hour before dusk. She had told me in what part of town she lived, and as we came to the end of that section of the Boulevard Ring, I recognized that the subway station was on her line. We kissed goodbye at around 21:00.
She texted me already from the metro:
TinyTatarka: Thank you for a wonderful evening! I was very glad to meet you.
Marty: I was too please write me when you get home
TinyTatarka: Yes, of course, I will write
(35 minutes later)
TinyTatarka: I just got home.
Marty: Thanks for letting me know! Sleep well, good night.
TinyTatarka: Good night!
She even texted me again 24 hours later to ask how the last day of my visit had been.
Conclusion and assessment
The approach went smoothly. I was a little hesitant at first and wanted to make sure that she was aware of my presence rather than startling her with a sudden opener, so with the all the turns on the park pathways and whatnot, this reads perhaps a little less flashy than the FRs of the more experienced members; but I felt it was reasonably well calibrated to the situation. A super in-demand and much younger woman might have punished me for all the fiddling around getting her contacts and connecting on Telegram, but again, with this woman who clearly liked me, this didn't seem to be a problem.
I don't think there were any issues with the texting; it was smooth, minimalistic, and efficient.
The date was enjoyable and had a warm feeling to it. I definitely think that there was a romantic spark, but because of the temporary nature of my visit, it may have been that she was resisting getting in too deep. I very much like the 'whirlwind romance' ideal that is encouraged on this site, but as recently mentioned in Chase's sticking-point thread, I struggle with making it work.
Recently, some people have been discussing reduced value upon approach. I am not really concerned about that, because without approach I am nothing anyway and there will be no results (and most likely I was never noticed in the first place). What I am, however, very nervous about is making requests for sexual access. Here I really do feel a depressed value, because it basically amounts to admitting that one is human and has instinctual urges, and the implication of this admission is that the potential for these urges to be gratified or frustrated is outside one's own control. I can't imagine many things more mortifying than that to one's own self-image, therefore, I struggle with it badly. This then gets in the way of intimacy. As always, all tips, guidance, and encouragement will be appreciated.
Approach and opening
I took a few days off for a long weekend and made a trip to Moscow. Last Sunday in Victory Park, I was sitting on a bench by a flowerbed along one of the broad pathways leading toward the main memorial on Poklonnaya Gora when a petite lady walked past me. A very slim girl, she had long fair hair, as well as a very attention-grabbing pelvic area and thighs, highlighted by the coral-colored pencil skirt she was wearing to just above the knee, complemented by nude patent heels. The short denim jacket she had on top was cut high enough not to obscure the view of her rear. We'll call her TinyTatarka.
I got up and followed a few dozen paces behind. She made a left turn along one of the tree-lined alleys. I followed. She seemed not to be in a hurry anywhere. After pausing at an outbuilding in front of the chapel, where music was playing, she turned back and returned to the main path, passing me head-on. I walked on and turned right, taking a parallel path, drawing inspiration from the last paragraph of this post. Then I turned right again to get myself back on the main avenue and to figure out where that put me relative to her. She was dawdling somewhat and was well behind. I turned left on the approach to the memorial and took a seat again on another bench. By this time, I was pretty sure she had noticed me too.
I was not exactly dressed fancy. I had felt hot during the past two days walking in the city, so this time I had opted for a tight-fitting white T-shirt, the sort that comes out of a packet and is possibly intended more as an undershirt, but I think it flatters my upper body. I had on a white baseball cap I had bought at a tourist store, and underneath I had navy jeans and matching leather sneakers. I think my musculature is decent due to time spent in the gym, but my overall weight is perhaps 10 kg higher than it should be, with some difficulty losing visceral fat around the waist, so my confidence was about middling. I decided to make the best of the situation.
When the girl caught up, she was surrounded by foreign tourists snapping photos and making a lot of noise. I figured it was now or never. Furthermore, the tourists were all speaking in a (presumably) Far Eastern language that I wasn't familiar with, and the girl was obviously a local, so if I opened loudly in Russian she'd know it was addressed to her. I decided to copy-paste this old approach but simplify the verbal part of the interaction considerably, since I am not as into the swing of things as I was back then, and I hadn't managed to get such a close read on the girl just yet. I drew parallel and quite close, made sure she had seen me and knew I was in her periphery, despite the buzzing tourists, kept my eyes looking straight ahead, and said, loudly:
Marty: You have a very cute walk.
TinyTatarka: (turns to look at me, broadly smiling)
Marty: (turning to meet eyes with her, slow, warm smile) What's your name?
She gave a Tatar name that I didn't catch at first, and I had to ask her to repeat it. I introduced myself. Just then, I wasn't entirely sure that she had bitten, but it became apparent that she'd just moved aside a little to let the tourists pass. She was still smiling. I clasped her hand.
We began conversation. I explained right away that I was just visiting for a few days, and I learned that she had moved to Moscow a year ago; she named her hometown, a city in the Volga Basin. After a couple minutes, I felt it was time to move her.
Marty: Shall we take a seat on one of those benches over there?
TinyTatarka: Certainly.
Marty: Do you prefer a spot in the shade, or in the sunshine?
TinyTatarka: In the sunshine.
We sat reasonably close and started getting to know each other. She was a successful professional, an associate director at a construction firm. I'd put her at about 38, based on some personal information she gave me, but it was hard to tell. She looked pretty young. I handed her my phone and had her enter my number. She told me to look for her on Telegram, and I sent a message to ensure she had my contacts too.
I needed to decide upon the next step pretty quickly, and I didn't really want to attempt to take her anywhere from here in the middle of the day, in the summer sunshine, when I wasn't dressed my best or feeling at my freshest. I had two evenings left in Moscow, and the following day, in the late afternoon, I was seeing an old female friend, one of the four women (excluding relatives) I like best in the world; so tonight would be the best option. Luck, it turned out, was on my side, in the form of a time constraint that I was able to leverage to our joint advantage.
TinyTatarka: Apparently, behind the main memorial, there's a nice view over the city.
Marty: Would you like to go see it together now?
TinyTatarka: (looking at wristwatch) If we have time...
Marty: Do you have an engagement this afternoon?
TinyTatarka: I have a hairdresser's appointment at 14:00.
Perfect! It was around 12:30 now.
Marty: Ah okay! Well if you're busy now, how about dinner this evening?
TinyTatarka: I'd be delighted.
Marty: 19:00? 20:00?
TinyTatarka: Either works for me.
I told her I'd be in touch with a proposal for dinner, wished her a relaxed afternoon at the beauty parlor, and made my exit.
As I retreated back toward the subway station where I had arrived, I considered the above interaction. Two connected points came to mind. First, she had been enormously compliant: upon opening, when moving to the bench, with the number close, and with the dinner invitation (even leaving the exact timing to me). Second, something was telling me I needed to manage my attainability. This was partly occasioned by the compliance, but also by the fact that I was in town only for a few days—a point I had been at pains to repeat several times, to avoid misunderstanding. Nonetheless, she had been happy to make plans. There was something else as well. I noticed I had gotten a reply from her to my initial "Hello TinyTatarka, this is Marty" text, that had been intended only to share my contact details as we sat together and to remind her of my name.
Texting and intermission
Tiny Tatarka: Good day! Glad to meet you.
I realized that I should probably throw out that part of the process that involved sending an icebreaker after approximately 1 to 4 hours. First, I wanted her to think about me when she was in the hairdresser's chair, and if I waited that long, the text would come when she was busy getting her hair done. Second, she had already texted me back, as shown above, so it was ridiculous to wait. Third, I needed to get dinner logistics nailed down.
She had responded as above to my initial contact-sharing text at 12:42, local time, so at 13:01 I sent her the Yandex location page of a restaurant very near my hotel where I had eaten excellently the day before:
Marty: TinyTatarka, if it suits you, I have reserved a table for 19:30 today at this restaurant
TinyTatarka: Yes, certainly. I will make it by that time for sure.
I then sent her a photo of the architecturally iconic external vestibule of the subway station, dating from 1935, that I had taken the day before with the following text:
Marty: The entrance is right by this subway station, but if you prefer, I can order a taxi for you
TinyTatarka: Thank you for the offer, but I don't need a taxi. I will make my own way there. I'll get a bit of a walk in this nice weather.
Marty: I look forward to seeing you with your fresh haircut. See you this evening!
She placed a "heart" reaction on the last message. I went to see one more attraction, the view of the city from the Sparrow Hills. In front of the huge Moscow State University building, students were recording a TikTok video of partner dances. The girls were all in long, tight-fitting dresses, half of them in a creamy color, half in black; the young men had on matching tight pants and sleeveless shirts. I walked down to the embankment and took a riverboat to Kitai-Gorod, then went back to the hotel to rest. In case I wanted to invite TinyTatarka back that evening, I took care not to mess up the hotel room that the housekeeping staff had beautifully tidied.
Date and close
To contrast with my rather informal appearance on the approach, I put on a light cotton button-down in French blue, pressed indigo jeans, deep-brown polished Oxfords, and a new ivory-colored blazer that fits me excellently. My confidence had been boosted by TinyTatarka's compliance so far, but nonetheless I followed process and fired off an anti-flaking text at 18:56:
Marty: Good evening, TinyTatarka, I will be at the venue right on time. -Marty
TinyTatarka: Good evening, Marty, very good. According to Yandex Maps I'll be at the location in another 35 minutes.
Marty: Excellent!
At 19:33:
Marty: I am at the entrance to the establishment.
TinyTatarka: Very good. I am 7 to 10 minutes late, unfortunately.
Marty: Not to worry
I reported to the hostess stand and made it clear that I had arrived, but that the lady would be there in a few minutes, because the restaurant had a policy of canceling reservations 15 minutes after the appointed time.
TinyTatarka showed up in the same nude heels as before, but paired with a cream-colored pencil skirt this time, and on top she had a deep cut sleeveless blouse, showing off both her decolletage and the region of upper arms and shoulders that can be so bewitching on women. Her chest, by the way, was pretty small, but I like it that way; not every man does, I know. I like both actually.
I guided her through the door by the small of the back. Obviously, the hostess recognized me from a few minutes before, and led us without a word to our table.
Conversation over dinner was warm and flowing and touched on multiple subjects, many of which we connected on. She had an ethos of wanting to achieve much, and got up early every day to facilitate this. I praised her, but told her to take care of herself as well and not to burn the candle at both ends. I used Cody's technique of telling her she looked cute after returning to the table, then quickly changing the subject. Early on in the evening, when she asked me where I was staying, I made sure she knew that my hotel was right around the corner, in case there was a chance that she'd agree to a pull. There were a few moments of tension, where we stared into each other's eyes, which she feebly tried to defuse by saying such things as "What? You're embarrassing me!" while smiling broadly with sparkling eyes.
I made a slight screw-up on the kino toward the end of the evening. After dessert, I'd wanted to use the old standard of taking her hand at a high point in the conversation and saying something like "I mean, you're funny, and you're charming, but I feel like there's more there that you're afraid to show. But you shouldn't be." (Those particular words weren't relevant to the conversation, so I picked something else according to the context, but the spirit was the same.) However, what I failed to notice was that her hands were actually clasped right up close to her chest, and as I reached to take her hand, I accidentally grabbed one of her boobs as well (remember, they are tiny and not too noticeable) and to make matters worse, right at that moment, the waitress showed up with the check that I had requested a few moments previously. To draw a line under this unfortunate event, I cut out what I was saying altogether, apologized gently to the girl, and then attended with great seriousness to paying the check and figuring the tip amount!
To her credit, she took it extremely well, considering that a man who had been polite and warm all evening had suddenly fondled one of her breasts accidentally right in front of the restaurant staff, and brushed it off. We went outside to walk. I normally walk with the woman on my right, she taking my right arm, but TinyTatarka had her purse on her left side, so I asked which way round she preferred to walk with men. She said she didn't mind, but didn't move her purse, so the upshot was that I switched sides and had her take my left arm. Some women seem to prefer this lately, I've noticed, including "Botticelli", so I'm slowly getting used to it no sense in being stuck in one's ways
We strolled along the Boulevard Ring, arm-in-arm, deep in conversation. I knew that she was getting up early Monday morning, and that it would be her bedtime soon. I kissed her about halfway along the tree-lined central footpath, in the evening light: The sun sets late at that time of year in Moscow, and it was still a half-hour before dusk. She had told me in what part of town she lived, and as we came to the end of that section of the Boulevard Ring, I recognized that the subway station was on her line. We kissed goodbye at around 21:00.
She texted me already from the metro:
TinyTatarka: Thank you for a wonderful evening! I was very glad to meet you.
Marty: I was too please write me when you get home
TinyTatarka: Yes, of course, I will write
(35 minutes later)
TinyTatarka: I just got home.
Marty: Thanks for letting me know! Sleep well, good night.
TinyTatarka: Good night!
She even texted me again 24 hours later to ask how the last day of my visit had been.
Conclusion and assessment
The approach went smoothly. I was a little hesitant at first and wanted to make sure that she was aware of my presence rather than startling her with a sudden opener, so with the all the turns on the park pathways and whatnot, this reads perhaps a little less flashy than the FRs of the more experienced members; but I felt it was reasonably well calibrated to the situation. A super in-demand and much younger woman might have punished me for all the fiddling around getting her contacts and connecting on Telegram, but again, with this woman who clearly liked me, this didn't seem to be a problem.
I don't think there were any issues with the texting; it was smooth, minimalistic, and efficient.
The date was enjoyable and had a warm feeling to it. I definitely think that there was a romantic spark, but because of the temporary nature of my visit, it may have been that she was resisting getting in too deep. I very much like the 'whirlwind romance' ideal that is encouraged on this site, but as recently mentioned in Chase's sticking-point thread, I struggle with making it work.
Recently, some people have been discussing reduced value upon approach. I am not really concerned about that, because without approach I am nothing anyway and there will be no results (and most likely I was never noticed in the first place). What I am, however, very nervous about is making requests for sexual access. Here I really do feel a depressed value, because it basically amounts to admitting that one is human and has instinctual urges, and the implication of this admission is that the potential for these urges to be gratified or frustrated is outside one's own control. I can't imagine many things more mortifying than that to one's own self-image, therefore, I struggle with it badly. This then gets in the way of intimacy. As always, all tips, guidance, and encouragement will be appreciated.