Mid-August-Early-Sept New York Women – Calvin Atwood

Of course, we’re not talking about the low-rent bitches, the native whores or the baby mamas. We’re talking about the recent transplants. Chicks with BA’s and maybe even MA’s from 2nd and 3rd tier schools. Maybe a country doctor’s daughter-a state college grad from Kansas City or Charlotte on a Citibike in the middle of a Sunday afternoon, headed to Prospect Park via Eastern Parkway. She doesn’t even know everyone’s gone, everyone that matters, everyone you don’t want to fuck with, everyone I don’t want to fuck with. Which is why Mid-August is the perfect time of year for a guy like me. A guy who really likes to have fun, fun on his own terms, with a recent arrival. Some almost white trash normie. A soon-to-be-basic bitch. A little heavy in the wrong places. Not catching every hombre’s eye. Just getting the lay of the land. We’re talking mid-western values here. Her bedding is still crisp! She hasn’t even joined a gym yet. Nobody in her building knows her name. She must live alone. 

As for me, I’m also on a Citibike and she’s right next to me on hers. “Hey nice bike,” I say. And if she’s white and she smiles and you’re in Prospect or Crown Heights and you’re both, by chance, headed to the park, you might be wondering how to proceed at this point. What’s my next move? How do I get her off that bike and then back to her freshly painted apartment… but you gotta slow down. You might ask her something vague like “You ever ride around here?” And if she says no she’s clearly game for whatever but don’t assume too much, just know you’ve got a live one. Next say “follow me.” But maybe she won’t. Just get out ahead of her and don’t look back for a minute. Given that it’s mid-August, it’s 50/50 on her following you. Additionally, make sure she doesn’t have a giant tote bag or drinks or anything that might suggest a picnic. You just want a body and a bike. Maybe a very small tote bag is fine.    

Of course, you need a plan going in, before you even hop on that Citibike, and it can’t be to take her to the most isolated portion of the park. You’re just taking her somewhere picturesque and not overtly sexual, like the dog beach or boat house. But most importantly, this destination requires that you both get off the bikes. Therefore, it has to be within the park as opposed to along the exterior. 

And now, you’re both off the bike. You were riding and now you’re both walking. You’ve transitioned from one phase to the next. You’re practically on your 2nd date. And I can’t tell you what to do next. I don’t know what your thing is. Just remember it’s mid-August. Nobody’s around. All the advocates and hall monitor types/the Middlebury Creeps, they’re all upstate so you can finally do-it-up-old-school style just for old time’s sake. You might as well. What does it really matter. After all, we’re in the final days. So, ultimately, you’re doing her a favor. Because if you really follow the news, and I’m not talking about the MSM. I’m not talking about a YouTube channel I happen to follow. A place where you know what you’re getting because you’re getting it from the horse’s mouth. It’s a one-man operation. Nobody’s pulling the strings from behind the curtain. Mr. Johnny O. (like me) knows in his heart that this earth, and all its supposed concerns… concerns that are, when you really examine them, rooted in the flesh, well it’s all just a needle in the haystack as far as God’s Kingdom is concerned, but if you’ve truly turned your life over and truly believe that Christ lived, died and was born again to erase our sins (present and future) you know that no matter what you do on this fleeting earthly realm, he’s got a place for you upstairs. A fixed place where you’ll get to live forever.