I have this friend, a girl, who is a total attention whore. Fittingly, she would glow with pride at being called that. As a cute, young single girl without brat baggage and of slender proportions and flirtatious disposition, she usually has some beta or two wrapped around her finger at any given time. You could accurately describe her as an eternal ingenue. She is always complaining about meeting men, yet she hardly goes a day without a “date”, i.e. some man willing to do her a favor for the reward of a three minute makeout. But no sex. Never sex! Oh no, there is hardly a man good enough for THAT prize. One time, a bread pudding excuse of a man who had been on three dry dates with her over the course of six months drove an hour and a half from out of town to drive her to an appointment she had only a few blocks from where she lived. She didn’t want to spend the money on a cab. Naturally, when she called him she framed it as a “chance for me and you to get together and hang”. And just as naturally, he bit down on that stinky bait. I bet he furiously masturbated on the drive over with thoughts of what he fantasized would happen.
Yes, there really are girls like this, and yes there really are… ahem… “men” who fall for the shit girls like this pull.
If it isn’t obvious by now, this girl is the succubus that strikes fear, loathing and lust in the hearts of betas everywhere. She is your worst nightmare; the epitome of every self-entitled pedestaled princess bitch we talk about here at this exclusive Chateau. When Satan made the mold for the quintessential cockteasing attention whore, she poured out.
And yet I like her. She’s a lot of fun to be around. I dig her style. Since I’m not interested in her as a potential lover, her games have no effect on me. Her manipulations of men who chase after her is something I can observe from a third party distance, with raised eyebrow and gleeful smirk. She knows this, and of course it drives her to distraction around me. I may be the only man in her life, besides her long term ex-boyfriend, who calls her bluff and swats aside her shit tests. Thus, I have earned her trust and confidence.
While my instinctual sympathies lie with her smitten
suckers suitors, I don’t blame her for playing them like puppets. If I were in her shoes, I would take advantage of those needy losers, too. I don’t care how cute a girl is, if she asks you to do some outrageous favor for her — like driving an hour and a half to chauffeur her to an appointment just because she asked — for no sex in return, you are a chump.
In this day and age, it is amazing there are so many men who think that supplication is the magic key to her secret garden. The Chateau has been in business for over three years, and yet the tidal wave of betas who fail at the most elementary concepts of female sexual psychology continues rolling on, crushing hopes and dreams and blue balls like so many beachfront tiki bars.
So one day, Queen of the Cockteases asks me a question. She was hanging on my arm, partly drunk.
“I keep pushing men away. I find them, and go out with them, and then they disappear! Seriously, real question. What am I doing wrong?”
“I haven’t noticed any men disappearing. Didn’t some dude just buy you tickets to a play and invite you to his shore house?”
“Oh, that. Yeah, but that’s not something. I mean the guys I like.”
“Are you going to help me? I want so bad to be your friend. We can be good friends if you just try with me.”
“You’re a basketcase after a few Shirley Temples.” For a moment, I thought about going hardcore on her ego and edifying her with the lessons gleaned from evo psych and game, but I was tired and not in the mood to talk much. Plus, I doubted it would register. I kept it light instead. “Stop going up to men. Let them come to you.”
“Why? If I like a guy I want to meet him.”
“Yeah, that’s great, but guys like to chase. If you approach them first, they will downgrade you. We give more value to girls who play a little coy.”
“And if he doesn’t approach me?”
“Suck it up. You can’t have every man in the world. Look, most likely you are approaching the top guys, the ones you think are the best. A guy like that has options. All he sees is a chick who has just showed she really likes him, which means sex is only a few drinks away. But you’re a major cocktease, so when they realize that it isn’t happening, they bolt.”
“Hey, I’m not that kind of girl.”
“We all know that. But they don’t. If a guy comes up to you first, he’s more likely to stick around putting up with your bullshit. But then you have the problem of wanting guys to chase you, but only respecting guys who don’t. That’s why you go up to them first and flirt like crazy. If the guy approaches you, you think he’s not worthy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you only get horny for guys you have to chase. You’re the classic example of a girl who wants what she can’t have.”
“That’s not true. I don’t waste my time with guys who don’t like me.”
“I can tell you really need an asshole in your life.”
Communication on the subject was done by that point. On certain matters, a woman’s brain simply can’t process in any internally logical way the implications of the discussion. Her biosocial female imperative is one of those matters. Try it some time. Explain to a girl why she behaves the way she does with men and watch as her eyes glaze over with incomprehension or she lashes out in fury at you for rattling the peace of her inner hamster sanctum. You can get girls to nod in agreement with you, as long as you don’t make them the subject of your elucidation. Girls have a habit of perceiving conversations about abstractions personally, and won’t abide finger pointing in their direction. The solution is to explain human social dynamics in terms that will spare her ego.
A cocktease is an older term for an attention whore. They are one and the same psychologically; only the details of execution differ. The cocktease’s ideal man would be someone she approaches first, but who doesn’t flirt back. He just stands there being amused by her antics, making her work harder and harder for his attention, until his value is outsized in her mind. One step forward, two steps back, is his motto for dealing with cockteases. And then when the time is ripe, he pushes hard for the close, leaving her little head space to rationalize yet another coquettish escape.
Unfortunately, the Western world is full of chauffeuring betas pumping princess egos the land over. For men in the know, like you and me and hopefully the rest of the readers of this site, this means the girls we meet have been pre-primed to act like selfish, self-loving brats. These special snowflakes and their boot-licking beta enablers both are our insufferable foes. Chastise the one and you must chastise the other. Nothing of worth operates in a vacuum.