You Need Game And Confidence, Not A Wingman

I used to believe for the longest time that the key to getting laid was having a wingman.  I somehow thought that having great game didn’t matter; what did matter was having someone else to show up with.

Now, I know better.

First, most wingmen don’t have tight (or any) game.  Most guys I know meet new girls via their social circles.  Fewer have ever cold approached in their lives.  To the rest, game means getting drunk and approaching fat girls at 3am in a dark club.

Some are also really good at playing the bad cop/good cop routine against you.

Once when I was in Amsterdam, I began chatting up a cute restaurant hostess.  After finding out she was from Spain, I immediately switched to my Mexican-accented Spanish.

Things were going well until my Belgian friend sprang out of nowhere and told me to “stop harassing the waitress.” Even though he was only joking, he interrupted my approach and created an awkward moment.  He obviously felt left out because he didn’t speak Spanish, but screwing it up for me wasn’t necessary.

Similar things happened several times in US, Central and Latin America.  Most people don’t realize that I’m trying to get laid and not making some meaningless small chat.

Take terrible wingmen, combine that with constant traveling, and you have the perfect formula for going out alone.  I simply didn’t have the luxury to call some cool cats in New York and fly them out to Colombia, Brazil or Argentina.

Initially going out alone was mostly a sporadic event.  I’d hit a local bar alone every now and then, but return to it with a friend or two later on.  Over time, I started going out more and more.  I graduated to larger clubs.  I even started to day game alone.

As I continued bracing the dangerous world of meeting women alone, I realized something.  Instead of feeling more self-conscious and nervous, I began feeling the exact opposite.  I began to feel more confident.  I began to feel more powerful.  For some reason being out alone without a “safe home base” of friends made me feel confident and powerful.  I started feeling like a man, a man on a mission.  It was like an addictive drug.

When I was living in Medellin I went out alone few times (mostly because my male roommate had PMS and refused to leave the house). On one of those nights I approached a gorgeous girl in Parque Lleras.  The moment I came up to her, I felt this rush of adrenaline knowing that everything I do, I’m responsible for, and therefore I deserve all the success.  I was the captain of my own destiny.  I would never have this omnipotent feeling had I been with a friend.  I fucked her two weeks later.

In Brazil, even though I was fortunate to have very solid (mostly Latin) wingmen around, I still went out about 20% of the time alone.  I remember when I chatted up a very gorgeous Brazilian woman in a nightclub, something I rarely did when goofing off with my friends.  The quality of my approaches and subsequent lays was always higher when I was alone.

Going out alone is freedom.  I can travel anywhere and go out without dragging my close friends with me, or praying I’ll meet a great player.

Few months ago I was in Serbia where I day gamed and went out at night alone. Last month I was in Bulgaria where I did the same. Not once did I feel that having a wingman would somehow increase my chances of getting laid.

It’s the ultimate aphrodisiac to any man to be able to get on the plane, meet some exotic girl in a foreign country, and then fuck her.  It’s certainly wouldn’t be the same if it was the two (or ten) of you doing it.  There’s simply no substitute for being alone.

Doing it alone ensures that my success isn’t dependent on someone else’s presence.  And that’s a great feeling.

When you think you need a wingman, you must ask yourself the following question: “will going out with him improve my chances of getting laid, or is it simply because I’m afraid of going out alone?”

Be honest when answering.  If it’s the latter, then work on the root problem (gaining confidence).  That will help much more than any wingman in the world.

For me, the proof is in the pudding.  Lately my most successful pickups, which resulted in quality lays, were all done when I was alone.

Right now I view a wingman as a relic of some distant path.  A past filled with insecurity and misunderstanding of what it really takes to fuck beautiful women.

The true answer lies in having confidence and game — not another body by your side.

The Day I Met Anthony, The Approach Machine

“Wait a second,” were his last words before he quickly ran back to stop the cute Latina that had just passed us walking in the opposite direction.

I’ve heard those words before.  In fact, it was probably the 20th time he told me that since we left the hostel.

I was left standing alone in the middle of a busy Bogotá street.

Five minutes later, I turn around and see him walking back.

“So?” I asked, even though I knew the outcome.

“Facebook contact info,” he said while grinning ear to ear.

“Good job,” I acted like his motivational coach, but we both knew he didn’t need any motivation.

Even though I’ve been in the game for a while now and have hung out with some fearless men with tight game, it was the first time I’ve seen someone be so brazen during daytime, and without alcohol, too.

In the preceding sixty minutes I’ve seen him come up to more strangers than some of my friends back home have approached in their lives.

I’ve been warned, though.  When we headed out to Bogota’s Zona T neighborhood, he mentioned that he “likes to chat with women.” I figured it was his way of declaring his heterosexuality so I brushed it aside.

What I didn’t know at the time was that “liking to chat with women” meant approaching every single cute girl in his path.

Now I knew.

It was my first time in Colombia.  I still remembered feeling nervous as I boarded the flight from Mexico City, where I spent several months living with a nice girl, to Bogotá, the alleged kidnapping capital of the world.

The Mexican girl was nice, but within a couple of months I quickly felt like a caged animal and needed to break free.  Colombia seemed like the perfect getaway.

It was raining and cloudy when I woke up, so not feeling like going out, I grabbed a history book from my backpack and retreated to a quiet corner.

I’ve had enough of Bogotá and had already booked a flight to the coastal and sunny city of Cartagena.

Suddenly I heard a familiar New York accent behind me: “Hey, do you know where I can grab a bite around here?”

As much as I loved meeting new people and experiencing new cultures, one of the greatest rewards is meeting someone from back home.

“Sure,” I replied.  “Let’s go for a walk.”

And that’s how I met Anthony.

Anthony, 26, was an African-American guy and a New Yorker through and through.  While he wasn’t an imposing figure — he was skinny and only 5’7” — he made it up with the balls of steel, never hesitating to go for what he wanted.

Not even five minutes passed since we were on the street, when he had already stopped and began talking to a cute Latina on the bench.

Minutes later he rejoins me with her Facebook contact info and her phone number.

I knew this would be an interesting day.

Soon he approached women at bus stops, coffee shops and stores: the cute student on the street; the 30s shop assistant in the eyewear store; the older girl waiting at a bus stop; even the MILF surrounded by a group of friends.

He was like a kid in the candy store, fearlessly going for anything and anyone he found attractive.  Didn’t matter if she was alone or with friends.  If he found her attractive, soon he’d be talking to her.

Approach anxiety wasn’t in his dictionary.

“Hey, how do you say ‘married’ in Spanish?”

His entire Spanish vocabulary consisted of two or maybe three words.

“’Casada,’ but to ask if a woman is married would be: ‘Estás casada?’” I was more than happy to provide my translation services in exchange for witnessing this man in action.

He paused while glancing at a hot mid 30s woman with huge boobs who was resting on the bench during her lunch break.

Fighting any hesitation, he suddenly jolted into action and came up to her.  The Latina, appearing surprised, quickly warmed up to him.  After few seconds of chatting, he sat next to her.  He started to entertain her, but she kept showing him the ring on her finger.

Damn, this won’t work.

Several minutes later he smiled, said good-bye and rejoined the base.

“She was married, but I almost got her number.” He said with a devilishly coy smile.

In the past few hours, he’d collected more numbers than I’ve collected over several weekends of going out in dark and smoked filled rooms all while punishing my liver.

Finally feeling tired, we sat down and grabbed some coffee at the outdoor cafe.

“I work for a major airline, so I get to travel often for low prices.  The problem is that these trips come with very short notices, few days max.  The trips are also pretty short, few days at the most.  Thus I cannot really build anything meaningful with the girl,” he began explaining.

“Getting favorable results such as a number or email gives me motivation to come back to a place.  Once I have a girl’s Facebook info or an email, I begin ‘preheating the oven’ with the girl while I’m in the States.  Later on I come back and hopefully seal the deal,” he continued.

“I did well in Colombia, Venezuela, Puerto Rico, and Dominican Republic, even hooking up with a hot car rental employee there.”

“Around twenty contacts,” he scanned through his contacts looking for new ones.  “Not bad, but I’ve had better days,” he continued.  “Most of them will never reply.  It’s all a numbers game.”  At the end of the day he would have approached at least thirty women.

He was in Colombia for only two nights with a flight back tomorrow morning.  I had one more night after that.

When he left, I was back at my hostel but I couldn’t help remembering perhaps one of the most memorable days on this whole journey.

I’ve probably met hundreds of fellow travelers throughout my years roaming around Latin American and Europe.  Unfortunately very few of those  were memorable in some way or another.  Most never ventured off the beaten path and, as a result, ever pushed through their comfort zones.  There’s only so many times you can take pictures of that old cathedral or dirty monument.

That’s why I liked Anthony.  He was different.  He made no excuses.  He always went for what he wanted.  Those reasons alone made him different than 95% of the “men” out there.  And when he wasn’t approaching cute women, he’d tell me some amazing stories from his journeys.

We kept in touch on Facebook after he left.  He kept traveling and always had a couple of interesting stories upon his return, which almost always involved women.

One day he told me that he would be going back to Colombia to seal the deal with one of the girls.  We called this specific girl the “garbage can girl” because he approached her while she was standing near a garbage can in a mall for a long time.

I was optimistic but realistic at the same time.  The first thing I thought was what if he flies out to see her and she stands him up? Stories like these were commonplace.

But this was no average guy.  This was Anthony, the approach machine.  This was Anthony, the modern renegade.

And Anthony wouldn’t be one of those guys weeping after an opportunity fell apart.  He would be back on the streets creating more and more opportunities from an endless sea of targets.

Being Interesting Makes Vaginas Wet

Most-Interesting-Man-In-The-World-8

When I wrote that only experiences shape a man, I received a bunch of feedback that went along these lines:

 “Mav, so you traveled all over the world so you can talk to some Portuguese girl?”

No, I travel because it’s what I want to do.  It’s what allows me to see interesting places and meet interesting people.  It also makes me more interesting as a result.

And if being interesting allows me to meet and sleep with beautiful women, I’ll take that as well.

Being able to approach without any anxiety is great, but that’s just the beginning.  That’s just getting your foot in the door.  Once in the door you need to keep talking, hopefully about very interesting things.

People gravitate to other people who are interesting.  They gravitate to people who have done something worthwhile and have an interesting story or two.  That’s what makes life richer.

There are two ways to become interesting:

  1. Do interesting things yourself.

  2. Learn about interesting things from others.

The first one is when you get on the plane and land in a new and exotic country.  The second one is probably what you’re doing now — reading a blog about another guy (me) who’s been doing just that.

Obviously the first one is preferable to the second, but either one can work.  For example, I spend my life traveling and learning new languages (#1), but I also constantly read history books (#2).

I once met an Italian guy in a hostel in Bogotá, Colombia (this was before I went to Brazil).  We were sitting in the hostel’s main room and chatting.  He was an average looking guy.  There was nothing particularly interesting about him.

The conversation was downright boring, and I was about to excuse myself any second.  Then, he tells me that he’s curious how Colombian girls compare to Brazilian girls.

“No idea. Why?” I responded.

“I lived in Rio de Janeiro for 6 months.  I just came back actually.”

Oh, you lived in Rio?  Now you have my attention, I thought to myself.

As soon as he said that, the tables were turned and it was me who was asking him questions.  He suddenly became very interesting in my eyes.

Last year I was in Barcelona trying to rent an apartment for a month.  One apartment I went to see was being rented by a Spanish (Catalan) guy in his mid 40s.

Sensing that the area was a bit seedy, I asked him if it’s safe walk around at night.  He told me that it’s all how you carry yourself.  ”That’s regardless if you’re in Barcelona, Istanbul or Congo,” he continued.

You’ve been to Congo?  OK, now you’ve got my attention.

I’m not a special snowflake.  I’m of average height.  I’m of average looks.  I’m not Brad Pitt.  I’m not Tom Cruise.  But I compensate all that by being interesting.

When you meet a new girl, she wants to know she’s interacting with a quality guy.  A guy who has seen and experienced cool things, and, who, hopefully can teach her a thing or two.  Essentially she wants a guy who can inspire her.

Let’s say I meet some Polish girl who’s dreaming of going to Mexico, a country where I lived for a year.  Would we have things to talk about?  Of course.  Would she be interested?  Of course.  All I have to do is drop something subtle like, “I hope it has gotten safer since I last lived there,” only to see her interest and intrigue build right before my eyes.

Similar thing happened when I met a Bulgarian girl who was studying Spanish, a language I speak fluently.

Obviously not all girls you’ll meet want to go to Mexico or learn Spanish.  That’s OK because the more interesting you are, the more bases you cover, and the more things you can talk about.

There’s one caveat: you can’t lead with it by bragging about it.  You can’t do: “Hi, My name is Joe.  I spent seven years living in Latin America.  I also speak four languages fluently.”

Bragging is validation.  You might as well also say, “I did all this traveling so I can talk to you.  Do you think I’m interesting?”

Bragging devalues your best qualities.  It also makes you look like an idiot.  Instead, simply merge the interesting qualities into your persona.  Don’t view yourself as a polyglot, a world nomad, or a traveler but as an interesting man.

For instance, when I meet Brazilian girls I never brag about speaking fluent Portuguese.  But once the right opportunity arises, I might drop a little hint here and there.

If a hot Brazilian girl asks me, “so, you lived in Brazil? Learned any Portuguese?”

My response is always, “yeah, a little bit.”

Then I bust out my fluent Portuguese with local (Carioca) slang.

That’s what gets the vagina moist and ready for penetration.

So, no, I don’t travel just so I can pull a robbery on some Portuguese girl in Germany.  That’s simply a result of being an interesting guy.

Approach, Build Interest, and Close

A month ago, I met a cute girl in a Bulgarian supermarket.  I was looking for baking soda, and after twenty minutes of pacing the aisles without finding it, I was ready to give up.  Finally, a cute girl entered my aisle.  I went up to her, asked her if she spoke English, then asked her to help find the item.  She smiled and quickly began scanning the aisles.  A minute later she found it in an obscure part of the aisle.  I thanked her, then walked her to the bus stop and left with her number.

Knowing that she was working that evening, I decided to wait until Friday (the following day) to make plans for the weekend.  On Friday afternoon I sent her an SMS to see what she’s doing (I also added a subtle joke about helping me in the supermarket).  I hit send and waited.  Few hours passed, and I still didn’t get a response.  Thinking that she might’ve not gotten the message (it was in Bulgaria after all), I sent her a completely different message on Saturday.  Again, she didn’t respond.  I figured she was dead on arrival and forgot all about her.

Honestly, I was stumped.  She was definitely interested — she must’ve asked me about a million questions during our chat.  I rationalized the rejection by realizing that maybe she was one of those chatty types, the ones who ask a million questions simply out of curiosity and not out of interest.

On Wednesday afternoon I received a text from her.  She told me she was out of town visiting her parents but wanted to know if I was still interested in meeting.  An hour later I replied, and we made plans for the evening.  We met up in the evening and ended up going out a few times.  Her initial “rejection” of me made absolutely no difference in the end.

Many years ago, I would’ve been analyzing what went wrong to no end.  Maybe I would’ve even asked some friends for advice.  But now it doesn’t really matter.  It doesn’t matter what happens; it doesn’t matter if she responds or not.

Sure, it’s easy to say that now, but what does “it doesn’t matter” really mean?  Allow me tell you what does matter: (1) approaching, (2) building attraction, and (3) closing.  Everything else (before and after) doesn’t.  In other words, what matters are me and my actions, which I have strong control over.  Her actions?  I can’t control those.

In this case, I was able to do all three.  I approached, successfully built attraction, and closed by getting the number.  Once I sent her the text, the ball shifted to her court.  My job was done.  I left no stone unturned.

I’m aware that nothing in the world would convince her to meet me if she didn’t want to.  There’s no magic bullet or a special text that would suddenly make her crazy about me.  She might’ve been simply busy or unavailable.

There’s only one thing you could’ve done to increase her chances of responding: built such a strong attraction that she simply couldn’t not respond and see you again.  That’s the only thing you have control over.  But from her point of view, there could’ve been multiple things that prevented her from replying and meeting again: she could’ve been busy, she could’ve had a fuck buddy, she could’ve been gotten into an accident somewhere, or 50 other reasons.

A beautiful Serbian girl I met in Belgrade told me point blank that she wouldn’t be available to see me the following week because she was preparing for an important exam.  The seriousness in her voice made me think that even if Brad Pitt approached, he’d hear the same thing.  That means I met her during a bad time.

The optimal strategy is simply live in the moment.  Stop planning your future with some girl in it.  Who even says she’ll be in it?  View each interaction as an opportunity to meet someone new, to get to know them, and to see what happens.  But don’t think beyond that.  Make plans but make a mental note that they might fall through at anytime.

See that girl over there crossing the street?  Approach, build interest, and close.  What about the other girl relaxing in the coffee shop? Approach, build interest, and close.  That brunette on her smoking break outside the mall? Approach, build interest, and close.

Approach, build interest, and close.

And don’t sweat what happens next.

What’s Your Go-To Opener?

My motto is to “leave no stone unturned.”  That’s with women, business and in life.  With women, it means always making the first move, approaching, and either getting a number or getting rejected. Cold approaching is a brutal game, but it’s a game one must have to play to get something in this life.

Most of my approaches are ice cold, but once in a while they become a bit “warmer” as a result of receiving an ambiguous signal from a girl who might be interested.  It’s not a direct sign to approach, but it’s something that must be explored.

Maybe you’re in a country where no one makes eye contact (like Denmark), and one girl suddenly gave you a quick look or stare.  Maybe you were in a store, when you noticed a curious look from a girl in another aisle.  Even though she didn’t blatantly smile or outright approach you, her behavior was slightly different from everyone else who didn’t even notice your existence.  Does she like you? You’ll never know unless you find out.  And the best way to do just that is to approach her with a go-to opener.

One day I was riding a metro in Bucharest, Romania, when I noticed a girl giving me very slight and ambiguous eye contact every now and again.  This caught my attention because her behavior was different from the army of girls who never noticed my presence.  I didn’t pay much attention at first, but, as time went by, I realized that perhaps she might be interested.

Once she exited on the next stop, I followed her and, acting lost, asked her if that train goes back to downtown.  She immediately stopped and began asking me questions.  Within several seconds, I knew that my chance of leaving with her number would be at least 75%.  It was quite different than some of the other approaches that were dead in the water.  I ended up getting her number which lead to a few dates.

One night in Kiev, Ukraine, I was walking home dejected after a crappy date with a girl.  I was passing a bus stop, when I noticed a girl quickly glance at me longer than usual.  I knew that I would never forgive myself if I didn’t at least put myself out there.  I stopped walking, turned around, and walked back to the bus stop.  I then asked her if the bus goes to a certain neighborhood.  It was a stupid question, but it served its purpose by getting us into a conversational state.  I left with her number.

I have a set of go-to openers that I always keep ready to be used at a moment’s notice.

Here are some examples:

  • Inside a building like a library or a mall, my go-to opener is usually, “Excuse me, do you know when this place closes?”
  • On the street, my go-to opener is usually, “Excuse me, do you know which way is to that big monument?” (Every city has one)
  • In the airport, I might ask, “Excuse me, is this terminal X?”
  • In a coffee shop, I might ask, “Excuse me, do you know the wi-fi password?”

My friend once asked a girl at the park if she thought it would rain.  He did it after noticing subtle signs from her.  It was enough to start a chat and get the number.

The whole purpose of the go-to opener is to test if her initial eye contact was some kind of interest.  If it were, then she would confirm it by being receptive and investing in the conversation.  Her body language will be open.  She’ll ask you questions.  If she remains uninterested and withdrawn, then you misunderstood, and she wasn’t interested in the first place.  No harm, no foul.

Note: The go-to opener is different from your usual (and possibly elaborate) openers because she already showed some possible interest.  You don’t have to get her attention and build (as much) interest; you just have to start talking.

Since the approach is a bit “warmer” than if she didn’t even notice you, the opener doesn’t need to be too elaborate.  You don’t specifically need a very open-ended opener with the aim of transitioning to a chat.  If she likes you, the chat will happen anyway.  I still like to be indirect, and would never just come over and say, “Hello, how are you?”

If the conversation hooks (you’ll know right away), simply transition into normal chat.  So, always be ready follow up with a conversation.

The good news is that if you’re already used to cold approaching women who never notice you first, it will be much, much easier to approach someone who gave you some kind of a sign.  Even a proverbial “10” who is difficult to approach without any initial eye contact, would suddenly become very approachable if she sent you some kind of signal.

The bad news is that these types of “warm” approaches would only appear once in a while; most of the time you’ll still have to hustle and come over to girls who previously had no idea you even existed.

So, what’s your go-to opener?

Bulgarian Women: Dark, Mysterious, and More Balkan Than Slavic

Bulgarian girl next door

Dark and Mysterious

Zero. Zilch. Nada.  That’s how much I knew about Bulgaria, a small Slavic country perched at the edge of southeastern Europe.  I knew nothing about its inhabitants.  And — most importantly — I knew nothing about the women.

Bulgarians must be some of the most mysterious of all Europeans, because in all of my travels I’ve never met a single Bulgarian.  But Maverick, you point out, Bulgarians aren’t very rich to travel like Americans or other Western Europeans.  Fair enough.  But I don’t even know any famous Bulgarians, whether in sports, academia, or anything else.  The only contact I’ve ever had with a Bulgarian was when I had a Bulgarian acquaintance back in San Francisco.  He looked like a regular Slav and wouldn’t be out of place in a place like Ukraine, Belarus or Russia.  As for Bulgarian women, I’ve never met one in my whole life, so I didn’t really know what to expect.

Having traveled extensively in Europe, I would say Bulgaria is undoubtedly one of the poorest countries I’ve ever been to.  I’m a big city guy, and Sofia was the first European capital that I wanted to leave as soon as I arrived.  Plovdiv, the second biggest city, is more pleasant, but outside the historical old town, the city is no better than Sofia.

The first thing that you notice about Bulgarian women is the amazingly dark, jet-black hair (the girl below is very typical Bulgarian). In fact, I don’t remember the last time I was in a country where most women had such dark, richly black hair.  In Spain and Italy, most women have the predictable combo of olive skin and either dark brown or black hair, a combination which I love; in Bulgaria, many women were light skinned but with jet black hair, a strange combination pointing to a mixing of genes.

Very Typical Bulgarian Girl

Most Bulgarian women are what I call “truly Eastern European.” This doesn’t specifically refer to their origins, but more to their mentality (you can be Eastern European but behave and think in a more Western way.) For instance, regardless where they’re actually going, they always dress like they’re going to a funeral: black leather boots, black leather jackets, black shirts and skirts.  There’re no hipsters with bright clothing and large framed glasses, although that’ll probably change in the next few years as Western advertising becomes more prevalent.  This is similar to how women (and men) dress in neighboring Romania, Ukraine and Russia.  Dressing like an Eastern European means, for the most part, also having an Eastern European mentality, which in turn means that the women are extra feminine and the man are, well, very manly.  No feminism and metro-sexuality here.

On paper, Bulgarians are Slavs just like most of Eastern Europeans (Serbians, Ukrainians, Russians, Polish).  However, I’d never guess that if I see a random Bulgarian girl walking on the streets of New York.  My first guess would easily be Greek, with a bit of Turkish thrown in.  Another words, more Balkan than purely Slavic.

As usual my mode d’emploi was my trusted day game.  I walked around and, either outright approached women on the streets, coffee shops, and metro stations, or seized opportunities as they jumped on my lap.

Here are my initial observations after interacting with numerous Bulgarian girls:

  • Most quality girls have (serious) boyfriends.  If you see a confident, well-dressed woman, chances are she has a (serious) boyfriend.  On my second day I met a very cute girl on the Sofia metro.  Everything was going great until she told me that she’s on her way home to her boyfriend.  Another girl I met in a coffee shop told me she moved to Sofia (from a smaller city) to be with her boyfriend.
    While this is very typical in Eastern Europe, it’s greatly amplified in the Balkans.  This is something I can mitigate in Ukraine and Russia, but I would need more time on the ground to learn the optimal game for Bulgarian women.  The flip side is that less quality girls are always single and ready to mingle.
  • Being Western isn’t a novelty.  Telling girls that I was an American from New York would elicit a lukewarm response.  It was almost like I was from some generic city that everyone had already “been to” thanks to the numerous movies and TV shows allowing anyone to live there vicariously.  Perhaps being an American is becoming more and more generic than a novelty.  I experimented by telling them I was a Russian guy from Moscow and received slightly more interested reactions.
    Of course, this would vary depending on the kind of girls you’re dealing with.  The “Eastern European” type I mentioned above would gravitate to “alpha” Eastern Europeans (e.g., a Russian guy from Moscow); whereas a hipsterish girl might dig American/Western guys more.
  • Hit or miss knowledge of English.  For a poor, Southern European country Bulgarians speak surprisingly good English.  Most women I talked to were able to understand me and reply with no problems — until you meet one who doesn’t.  One interesting fact is that most girls are also studying or already speak Spanish.  During one date with a very cute girl, we were literally speaking 3 languages: English (mostly), Spanish (here and there), and Bulgarian/Russian mixture (when she didn’t know a word in either of the previous languages).
  • Lack of eye contact.  Like in most of Eastern Europe, smiling and eye contact directed at strangers is generally a sign of weakness.  I look Southern European for the most part, and, as a result, received almost no eye contact in Bulgaria.  Most Bulgarians easily thought I was Bulgarian or even Greek, so relying on eye contact is a poor indicator of interest.  I would assume being a 6’4” Norwegian Viking with spiky blonde hair would buy you more attention, but still it wouldn’t be something I would rely on.  If you’re southern European looking like me, you’ll have to work to get noticed.
  • Traditional dating culture.  Nothing surprising here: Balkans is one of the most conservative regions in Europe when it comes to dating and courtship.  I estimate you’d need solid three days of dates (or more) before getting her to come back home with you.  Don’t expect to fly in on eazyJet from London for a weekend and bang women left and right.  I would aim for at least a solid two weeks, but, as usual, the more the better.  Pipeling beforehand might help, but I don’t do that so I wouldn’t know.

Bulgaria was only my second exposure to the Balkans (Serbia was first).  I definitely need more time on the ground to learn more about this interesting region and its beautiful women.  That should all change this summer when I return there for a longer and more deeper exploration.

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