Your Number One Priority When Going Out

Let’s say you’re in a new town/city/country, you look good, your game is tight and you’re planning to have an excellent night.

What should be your number one concern at this point?

Venue selection. 

Your number one priority should be able to figure out a place where you will have the absolute best odds of hooking up and picking up.  And many times those places aren’t as obvious as you think.

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One of my other jobs used to be online marketing.  And what you figure out rather quickly is that there exists a certain subset of the market that is ready to buy what you’re selling. 

You don’t need to convince this market that your product is what they need; they’ve done their research and are ready to pull out their wallet. 

A superset of this market may contain people that aren’t sure that what you’re selling is for them, so they still need further persuasion to come onboard.

The sexual market works exactly the same way.

If you’re a foreigner in a country, you already have few things working against you.  You might not know the city, the language, the dating culture (and they differ hugely, believe me!).  So your job becomes that of a chief marketing officer: strategize and figure out places where you can market yourself more efficiently.

Some markets (cities, clubs) are highly competitive so even if you have tight game, you need to work harder while getting the same (or worse) results you’d gotten in a more suitable bar or club.

Now you can work hard, or you can work smart.  I prefer to work smart.

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I have a friend here in Barcelona who loves to go to the poshest clubs.  Last weekend he took me a huge club that attracted all kinds of people, from local Spaniards to all kinds of foreigners (other Europeans, Americans and Latin Americans).

I did a few approaches, but no one was biting.  Not that Mexican hottie who has lived ten years in Spain, or that little Catalan girl who I teased looked Brazilian, nor even that average Polish girl who was barricaded by seven hungry Spaniards. 

My friend fared even worse, spending his whole night stalking a tall Serbian girl who kept running away to "get a drink."

Few days later we met up with a tall Croatian who castigated my friend for taking me to that club.  He was a bit older than both of us, and hated the club for being too pretentious, calling it a ‘Las Vegas experience.’  He looked at me, asked me what kind of girls I liked, and suggested three other clubs where he’s been cleaning up and assured me I’d do the same.

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In Rio de Janeiro, Brazil it took me about two weeks of trial and error to figure out places where I’d do well.  I kept going out to the poshest clubs in Zona Sul and Barra only to come home disappointed.

On a long weekend in Buzios (a resort city two hours from Rio), I got rejected fifteen times in one night before hooking up with an average girl.  My expat friends fared even worse, eventually retiring to their hotel rooms dejected. 

In retrospect it made sense: we were the only foreigners in a party frequented by wealthy Brazilians, who weren’t interested in hooking up with foreigners, instead opting for the big fish within their own culture.

After lots of trial and error, I finally settled on a couple of clubs in the Lapa neighborhood of Rio where I had a huge stream of successes.  The girls were more down to earth, played less games, and genuinely liked foreigners. 

I still went out to the posh clubs in Zona Sul from time to time, but it was mostly to hang out with friends or close the deal with a girl I already knew.

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In Medellin, Colombia, my main go-to spot was Parque Lleras, and the surrounding clubs.  What’s strange about Parque Lleras (and its surrounding neighborhood of El Poblado) was that it was an oasis of fairly well off area in an otherwise poor city and country. 

The girls who frequented the area were usually from poorer suburbs who all had one thing in common: they were all looking for something. 

That something usually meant money.  It could’ve been in a form of a rich Colombian sugar daddy, or even in the form of the world’s oldest profession: a simple exchange of money for sex.

Only after I began to venture outside this bubble to places like Sabaneta and Bello, my odds greatly improved.

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In Riga, Latvia, I mostly stuck to the old center and found most girls rather cold and distant, even when addressing them in their native language. 

After few trials and errors, I finally befriended a local girl who pointed me to some places out of the old center where bouncers spoke only in Russian.  I took my Australian friend under my wing, and we experienced a scene that was the opposite of the large tourist trap the old town really is.

It was an absolute surreal experience.  Most of the people we spoke to were genuinely interested in our presence in their tiny country.  It was one of the best nights we’ve had in Baltics up to this point.

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Game is a peculiar thing.  Having excellent game doesn’t necessarily mean you can pick up the hottest French girls on the Champs-Élysées, or steal oligarchs’ mistresses in the poshest Russian clubs.

An equal component to game is strategizing, while leveraging your strengths and downplaying your weaknesses.  

And that’s why venue selection is of such paramount importance.  Smart venue selection allows you to work less, while reaping even greater rewards.

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