I had a realization the other day about the moments in my life where I really connected with a woman and we proceeded to date for months or years.
It wasn’t through meeting a stranger at a bar. Nor did it involve getting a waitress’ number at The Yardhouse.
It involved the people I know introducing me to new people, hobbies and events. Through these social connections, I met girls in an environment where they were open to having real conversations, without their defenses up high. In a word, what has helped me establish real connections with women is: Communities.
Community: an interacting population of various kinds of individuals (as species) in a common location.
Communities are your groups of friends, colleagues, alumni, classmates or any social group. Use these communities to experience new activities, and often while doing so, you'll successfully meet amazing women. I advise every man, woman and child to:
Build your community, fill it with valued individuals and then actively engage their communities.
If you do this, your social circle will flourish. Find a balance between spending time with long-time, trusted friends and new, exciting personalities. Try putting them together in groups and see what happens. If anyone asks you to attend an event, say “yes!” and try to go to as many events as possible, especially if the event is a house party, which will cost you little more than a 6-pack to enter a buffet of people with whom you have a halfway-decent connection.
Even when your energy is low, and everything in your body screams to stay home or end the night early, I recommend pushing yourself to try something new. You never know who you’ll meet when you’re with a community of new faces, as I discovered with a group of American friends crashing a graduation party in
Photo by Eric Horwitz Some of the best communities I’ve ever been in have had attractive European women with a penchant for gelato.
In the winter of 2006, I found myself in an uncomfortable predicament in
The party was in a bland, darkly-lit room in a dormitory complex. As people mingled, I was bored and drifted over to the DJ, who in this case was a skinny, bearded Italian on a laptop. In the middle of our conversation I felt a hand lean on my shoulder. I turned to my right to find a girl with long black hair, olive-skin and a wry smile leaning on me and the DJ.
(translated from Italian to English for your convenience)
Her: (surprised) “Hi! Oh, I thought you were someone else.”
Me: “Really? I’m Eric, you?”
Her: (impressed by my
Me: “I live in LA and am studying in Padova for the next few months.”
Her: “Wow, the city of angels!”
Me: “So whose party is this for?”
Her: (points to DJ) “Him. He just graduated.”
Me: “Congratulations! So how do Italians celebrate graduation?”
I then enlisted Guilia’s help in translating the graduate’s “Papiro,” a document scrawled on a poster board detailing incriminating stories typically cruel and sexual in nature, exaggerated for effect. An Italian graduate reads his papiro out loud to his peers the moment he gets his thesis grade from his professors. Within 5 minutes, his nice suit is off and his friends cover him with toilet paper, shaving cream, diapers, bags, even a raw chicken in a hat, as the helpless grad is forced to share his life on paper to his friends and entire family. Every time he messes up reading, his friends pour Prosecco down his throat as everyone laughs, cheers and takes many black-mail worthy photos.
Photo by Eric Horwitz: An Italian graduate reads her papiro and downs her drink while covered with a maid outfit, shaving cream and much more.
I would love to introduce this tradition to
As Giulia helped me translate, we coyly got to know each other. I first noticed her energy, that radiance that upbeat people emit. It’s in their walk and their smile, and especially their voice, which bursts with enthusiasm. She had intelligent eyes, and I was smitten.
As the party ended she encouraged me to wait for her downstairs before we went out for a drink at “Highlander,” the local Irish pub. I met up with my American friends, and could feel the awkward glare from Linda. Five minutes seemed to take an hour before Giulia met me downstairs, and as we headed out together I gave a rather cruel wave to my group.
I later discovered that the graduate was Giulia’s ex, and that she had made me wait downstairs so it wouldn’t look like she left the party with a random American she had just met.
Giulia and I hit it off, and dated until my trip ended. To this day, we still stay in touch.