On the way back from the barbershop a few hours ago, I happened to run into yet another real life, realtime example of Game in the Wild...
I'm in the Badlands, and making my way back to my residential end of town. While crossing the street, I notice a Brotha who looks to be in his late 20's/early 30s, about 6'1", dark skinned and Allen Iverson thin; he's wearing jeans, Tims and one of those kind of baggy striped polo shirts on; he tops it off with a white Kangol cap. He stands there at the bus/el train stop by himself for ten minutes - but suddenly is joined by a Boriqua Mami. She's about 5'6", wearing white capri style pants and a pink top. Her hair is done in a kind of mash-up between that "wet/curly" look the Latinas like to rock around these parts, while at the same time it's relatively short and kinda reminds me of the hairdo the character Betty Rubble had in the Flintstones - complete with a matching pink headband. I give her "A" for effort and while her body wasn't bad, her face left quite a bit to be desired, to tell you the truth; dude was easily a solid point above her on the scale. I'm just sayin'. Nevertheless, I gotta give Brotha White Kangol mad props for how he handled his; a pure Natural who will in all likelihood never crack open a book or attend a bootcamp, he kept control of the frame throughout his interaction with his Chica. For one thing, he played the power position by posting up against the wall, with his girlie facing him (in other words, her backside was facing the street). Second, just watching his body language, he controlled the flow and direction of the conversation - his hands/arms were animated in the urban gesticulations that Philly Cats are world reknown for; I could tell he was spittin' mad Game fast and furious, even while I couldn't even hear what he was actually saying (too busy digging on Jigga's "Reasonable Doubt" - besides, studied practitioners of the Sweet Science know and know well, that it ain't what you say, but how you say it). The Latina in Pink was lapping it up like a kitten.
Then, he executed the Bold Move - he grabbed her face with both hands and landed a fierce kiss on her, right on the lips - BOOM! - right in the middle of him shootin' the gift. It completely took girlie off-guard, and I just smiled as she gave in to the sudden rush of dominance on his part and desire on hers. Indeed, I could see her knees buckle a bit, smiling like the Kool-Aid Man when he was done. He finally noticed me checking them out at 15 yards out; and I simply, slowly nodded "Respect" with a sly grin. He nodded back over his Woman's shoulder with the same kind of sly grin of Amused Mastery.
Game always recognize Game.
My Brothas, if you want to really understand Game, and maximize yours, you must immerse yourself in the beating heart of Humanity - for it is out there, on the bricks, that you will see in its most vivid, raw and uncut ways, Game in action. As the Grand Master himself, Mystery always says, the Game, is in the field. Not online. Not on the horn busting it up with your homies. Not on OKCupid or eHarmony.
In. The. Field.
There are two kinds of Field Reports - direct, and indirect. The former is the kind that involves you directly, i.e., stuff that you do or don't do. The latter is the kind where you observe the actions of others. Both have immense value.
Now adjourn your arses...