Confessions of a Secret Player
If you're like most girls, you probably think you can spot a player by his bad-boy swagger or lame pickup lines. But it's not always that easy. I should know – I spent 10 years pretending to be the most caring and attentive man on the planet just to get into the pants of dozens of women. My player days are now over, but to help atone for my years as a womaniser, I'm going to let you in on the dastardly deeds guys like me are capable of. You'll be stunned at how devious we can be.
A PLAYER IS BORN
Growing up in a suburb outside Chicago*, I lived with my mom and three sisters, who taught me that the way to impress a woman was to be honest and respectful. This approach always landed me female friends, but it gave me zero luck in the girlfriend department. I couldn't figure out why until college, when I met my buddy Tony. Whenever we'd hit the bars, women would swarm around him while I went home alone. I wasn't a bad-looking guy – 6 feet tall with brown hair and green eyes. And though I was a bookworm, I also worked out a lot. Still, I couldn't connect with a girl. So Tony gave me a tip: He said if I struck up a conversation with a chick but then played down my interest, her attraction to me would skyrocket.
I tried out his advice at a club the next night, and it worked. My confidence soared, which attracted even more women. I realised that by appearing standoffish, girls assumed I was the shy type who wasn't trying to come on to them – and that made them more willing to trust me. To better manipulate their trust, I wanted to understand exactly how their minds worked. So I read self-help books and rented lots of chick flicks. Plus, I also pored over COSMO each month, which taught me everything from how a girl likes to be kissed to what she expects emotionally from a guy.
As I learned what women wanted, I figured out what I needed to do and say to get them interested in me. This landed me a steady girlfriend for a little while, but the more women who fell for me, the more my ego surged – giving me the cojones to date several girls at once. So for the next few years, I saw two or three women at the same time. Though I knew my actions were wrong, I justified my player ways by telling myself that I was just a young guy having some fun. And I was obsessed with seeing just how much fun I could get away with.
ON THE PROWL
After graduation, I took a job as a travelling sales rep. On the road, I had plenty of chances to hone my pickup skills. I approached women on airplanes, in stores, at hotels… anywhere. Though playing it cool still worked, I soon figured out an even easier way to get girls to open up to me: Establish a verbal connection. By convincing a girl we had something in common, she'd let down her guard. One time I was on a plane with a beautiful flight attendant, and I overheard her tell another passenger that she was a private pilot. I began chatting with her and mentioned that I was about to start flying classes. It was a total lie, but it sparked enough of a bond for her to feel comfortable with me, and we wound up dating. Another time, I met a woman who was into squash. I didn't know anything about the sport, but I claimed that I played all the time and asked her to play with me the following week. She agreed, and we had a hot fling. I became a chameleon, willing to blend in to any situation if it helped a woman feel at ease with me.
Another thing I learned was that girls love it when men ask about their job, family and interests. As you probably know, lots of guys drone on about themselves. By doing the opposite, I appeared caring, which couldn't have been further from the truth. Plus, I needed to ask a lot of questions to make sure one girl's life didn't overlap with the lives of my other conquests. So I found out everything I could about her and her family and friends. Women thought I was attentive, but I was simply looking for red flags.
PULLING IT OFF
After five years of conning girls into the sack, I still got a rush from it all. I'd never been caught, and I viewed myself as such a stud that I couldn't resist upping the ante even more. So I went from juggling numerous flings and casual relationships to maintaining five steady girlfriends in the same city at one time.
I developed an elaborate system. When each woman left her personal items in my apartment, I packed her stuff in labelled trash bags, which I stored in the back of my closet. Once I knew who was coming over that night, I'd find the bag with that girl's name on it and assemble her clothes, makeup, and other belongings around the apartment, just as she'd left it. After she went home, I stowed everything away until her next visit. I also had to hide all evidence she'd been over. That meant changing sheets, throwing out leftover food and wine, and making sure there were no sets of two glasses or plates in the dishwasher. I shredded all birthday cards, love notes and other incriminating items. Being so methodical was time-consuming, but it kept me from being busted.
MASTER OF DECEPTION
To keep all my relationships going, I became a pro at telling lies. I read books on the art of persuasion, which taught me that body language and tone of voice are more convincing than what a person actually says. For example, crossed arms are a sign of defensiveness. So I'd always leave my arms at my sides if a woman confronted me with her suspicions, which is what happened once with Michele, who accused me of avoiding her the night before. Getting visibly upset is another guilty signal. So I'd put on a poker face, look directly at the girl – in this case Sarah, who was pissed when she heard my phone ring but I let it go to voice mail – and lie. Each woman always believed me.
Making myself inaccessible also helped me get away with my two-timing. If I was out with one woman, I'd turn off the ringer on my cell so the others couldn't reach me. I rigged my doorbell so I could shut it off in case a girl was over and another decided to stop by. When she'd ask where I'd been, I'd say I was out doing errands.
To avoid confusing one girl with another, I treated them all the same. I gave them identical gifts for Valentine's Day and their birthdays. I took them to the same movies. I also used the same moves on them in bed. I even repeated the same phrases, things I'd learned all women want to hear, like 'I like being with you' and 'I'm happy with our relationship'.
Eventually, each girl would start talking about a serious long-term commitment. I'd create excuses about not being ready, knowing the woman would get frustrated and break things off. The sad thing is, I really loved some of them and honestly thought about settling down. But my desire to play around was still too strong.
AN HONEST LIFE
By the time I hit my early 30s, pulling off the player life was physically and mentally exhausting. For the past 10 years, I had been seeing a different girl every night of the week as well as keeping tabs on the others' whereabouts to avoid run-ins. Also, constantly hurting girls I really cared about was emotionally draining. The stress had simply become unbearable, and I was sick of living a lie.
Within the next few years, I cut back on my relationships and eventually stopped dating altogether. It was such a relief to have nothing to hide. Now I'm single, and I'd love to settle down and get married. But don't think I've emerged from my old life unscathed. Truth is, I'm haunted by all the pain I caused and humiliated that I abused the trust of so many innocent women. That's why I'm clueing you in to the signs of a player – so you can kick him to the curb before he takes advantage of you.
*Names and some identifying details have been changed.