The Ironwood Collection of Alpha Moves (18 page)

3)      Have an incredibly good time myself

4)      Ensure she not only had a good time, but is so surprised and delighted by the wonderment I cause that she can’t shut up about how romantic I am.

5)      Get laid commiserate to the level of difficulty and resources consumed.

And of course all of this is designed to strengthen our bond, our relationship, our marriage, all that good stuff.

As experiments go, it was a worthy one.  And since I feel I have a duty to the Manosphere to share whatever successes and failures I have on the Red Pill path, I’m going to give you the play-by-play of the whole thing.  Learn from my mistakes, learn from what I did right.  And feel free to take credit for the latter your own self if you end up using my stuff – I don’t mind.

PART I: PLANNING
AND
DATE PREP

This is the fun part
: just what do you want to treat your woman to?
  What will entertain her and delight her and make her think of you in tingly terms? 

In my case, I recently got my teeth fixed, and I ca
n finally eat steak which we’d
avoided for over a year since my dental problems arose.  So for the dinner, I chose the finest steak house in the metro region – you know, the family owned one that’s been there for three generations and it’s almost impossible to get a reservation?

I called in a favor and got a reservation.  Luckily
, after a decade or so in wholesale food service
I still know plenty of people in the restaurant business.  It was a late one – 9:30 – but that actually worked to my favor.  Still, that reservation determined the course of the rest of the evening.  We had to be at the restaurant at
9:30
or give up our spot.

From there the rest got tricky.  A quick search of the local music sites showed that all the cool stuff that was playing in town in terms of live music would all be starting at
9:00
– which would conflict with dinner.  So live music was out.

While there was a Broadway show at the local performing arts center, tickets were sold out and my connections couldn’t help.  No show.

The movies that weekend sucked.  No movies.

I was rapidly running out of conventional “things for married people to do on a Saturday night” fare – but that simply inspired me.  I didn’t want just “dinner and a movie” – that wouldn’t inspire the kind of reaction I was looking for.  So I got creative. 

An hour later, my creativity having failed me, I asked my 18 year old niece (lined up for babysitting for the occasion and sworn to secrecy) what she thought of as a perfect date.  She thought for all of five picoseconds, and then said “Shopping!”

Oh, dear Goddess . . .

And apparently the Goddess heard my prayer and sent me inspiration. I figured out how to incorporate shopping into our date without a) me waiting in silent frustration while she tried on a bunch of stuff she knew she wouldn’t like and b) holding a purse and rendering an opinion.  I liked the idea so much that I built the rest of the date around it.

But first, I had to set things up. 
The thing about a Big Date is that God(dess) is in the details . . . and those details imply a lot of leg work.

I stashed my suit in a garment bag in the back of my car.  I cleaned out my car and gassed it up.  Got a haircut.  I ensured the Niece was on call to babysit.  I knew that Mrs. Ironwood had a Girl Scout thing that morning, then a Cub Scout thing that afternoon
, but her schedule was open for the evening (she had penciled in a nap)
. 

I also knew that Preselection is a powerful tool that I rarely employ in my Game, at least not directly. 
If I really wanted maximum impact for this date – and I wanted it to feel like an Atom Bomb of romantic lust – then using some unfamiliar elements would not only be more of a challenge, it had the possibility of amping up the rewards significantly.

So first things first: when my wife returned from Girl Scouts that afternoon, and prepared to take the boys to Cubs, I began my run.
  It was time to attract the attention of another woman, and use it to make my wife jealous.

I took my 10 year-old daughter to go see her first Roller Derby bout. 

Because if you
really
want to make your wife feel jealous, the safest way to do so is to take your daughter out, just the two of you.

The Perfect Red Pill
Da
t
e
Phase
I
:
Preselection

Preselection
, as most Red Pill dudes and Married Game aficionados know,
is the tendency to find someone more attractive based on the fact that a third party finds them desirable.

I don't wear a wedding ring, for instance, because it makes me more attractive to single women because they figure SOMEONE thought I was worth a damn. 

Similarly, when a man or woman wants to elicit a strong and passionate response in their partner, a little flirting with a member of the opposite sex in front of their SO -- or even overhearing a member of the opposite sex say flattering things about your spouse -- is often sufficient to inspire a passionate reaction.  Preselection is a power-up for your sex rank.

True Story: At a sci-fi event where I was promoting a book, Mrs. Ironwood chanced to be in the bathroom at the same time as two of my younger, prettier fans (I have old and ugly fans, too, BTW
, I don’t discriminate
).  They had just met me, and I had been my usual charming self and flirted to the very boundaries of good taste -- Mrs. I wasn't around, no harm done. 

But when she overheard them talking about ho
w
hot I was (!) and wondering to each other if I was single,
and mentioned the lack of a ring,
I suddenly had my usually only
-
casually-interested wife
glued to my side
for the rest of the evening. 

And minstrels will one day write epics about the humpage that evening.

But I digress.  My plan was
to incite a Preselection buff through the simple and safe expedient of a date with my 10 year old daughter
.  She's had a recent birthday, and I have been promising her a Daddy-Daughter date for a while. 

The day before my date I had found out that the season opener for our local Roller Derby league was that afternoon, and I had grabbed tickets.  I surprised her with them that morning, and told her after she got back from Girl Scouts we would be on our way.

Mrs. Ironwood, of course, always loves to see me spend time with the kids (SR+1).  But she had spent all morning with a hundred screaming Girl Scouts, and had to take the boys to Cub Scouts now.

"Aren't you going to finish--" she began, as we waited in the driveway for the boys to emerge in uniform -- never a short process.

"Done," I answered simply, referring to any number of chores on my weekly list.

"Do you think it would
be more
fun for
all
of us to go?" she asked, expectantly.

"Yes . . . but we
aren't
all going.  This is about me and her." I was Firm.  Good Alpha stance, tone said
my mind is made up and this is how it's going to be.

Nostrils flare.  "I spend all day with Girl
Scouts and SHE gets a date?" the Missus
asks with a snort.  "When do
I
get a date?"

I shrugged nonchalantly.  "I'll see what I can do.  Consult your schedule.  Maybe if you play your cards right.  Besides, you and the boys have an activity.  This is
our
special time."

"Well, you and l'il Elektra have a blast!" she said, sarcastically, sticking her tongue out at my daughter.  She gave me a few more nostril flares for good measure and opened the hatch for the boys.  She looked me up and down -- I was looking GOOD.  Black jeans, black sweater, black wool coat, black fedora, long black scarf.  Just had my hair cut and my beard trimmed.  Shoes were shined.  I smelled good.  Real good.  She noticed.

"It's just not fair!" she grumbled one last time before giving me a peck, her daughter a jealous glance, and pulled away.

Preselection buff
activated
.  Relative SR+2.

Daughter and I had a blast by ourselves -- I let her sit in the front seat in flagrant violation of matronly directive, I bought her a MASSIVE bag of blue cotton candy, I asked her about school and boys and Scouts and other Daddy-Daughter bonding stuff.  She was eating up the attention.  And yes, she had TOTALLY caught how jealous Mommy was, and that was
the coolest thing in the world.

Basically, taking a page from Athol Kay’s illustrious book (actually, his blog) I r
an light Game on her through the ticketing and concession process
.  S
he was on perfect behavior as we learned the intricacies of racing around a cement floor on wheels as an acceptable outlet for feminine aggression.  Daughter was
enchanted.
  We went through the program and studied the rules and the players.  By the end of the second bout, we kinda knew what we were talking about.

Meanwhile, I had to fend off the advances of several women.

I'm a decent looking guy in my 40s in nice clothes, no wedding ring, taking my daughter to a fun girl outing.  I heard "Oh, is it
your
weekend?" at least
five times.
  Older women, younger women, me sitting there with my arm around my little girl, looking all paternal, I felt like
a freshly grilled
prime steak at a Weight Watchers meeting.

Interesting side note: Gentlemen, for a target-rich environment of women of all sorts -- but with PLENTY of the young-and-cute variety -- I cannot recommend Roller Derby bouts strongly enough.  Once you peel back the thick
protective
layer of lesbians, what remains is no less than fertile territory.  They serve beer, there are literally
thousands
of opportunities for approach, it’s a low-shield environment, and after a couple of active bouts most of these women had their blood up and would have humped any convenient leg. 

Just thought I'd put that out there.  That is all.

Bought Daughter a highly-coveted T-shirt, got some free promotional stickers, took some pictures, saw some gruesome pictures of the various injuries sustained just last season (!), talked Daughter out of an expensive pair of skates by pointing out her feet were still growing.

But she was
enchanted
.  Girls hitting other girls.  Girls
on skates
hitting other girls . . . to the roar of the crowd.  Now, I call my daughter (half-mockingly) "Princess" sometimes, but the fact is that she's more the Xena type
than the Cinderella type of princess
, despite her pretty looks.  My girl can take a hit.  She's got feet that would make a ballerina faint -- the Ironwood tootsies have been huge for generations.  But she'd make an outstanding Roller Derby girl . . . in eight years.  When she has her own insurance.