You know that feeling when you really think you’ve cracked the code? Like, you’ve done the homework, spotted the patterns, and you’re confidently strutting into a date thinking, “No way I’m falling for the old tricks.” That was me—seasoned, cautious, and fully prepped with a no-nonsense mindset.
So, when I agreed to a low-key glass of wine with a guy who had a bit of a reputation for rotating women like a washing machine, I had a strict plan.
Stay sober, don’t overshare, and absolutely no overnight cuddles. But the night had other ideas.
The Casual Night That Turned Into a Full-Fledged Romance Movie
It all started pretty innocently—one drink at a wine bar.
Then he suggested a quick hop over to a cozy little speakeasy nearby.
I figured, why not? I was feeling sharp, not tipsy, and still had my guard up. But then came the unexpected detour: a charming Italian restaurant where we shared pasta and swapped silly stories.
By the time we were walking along the harbour under a moonlit sky, I felt like I’d known him forever. Spoiler: I went home with him.
And while I wasn’t upset—because honestly, I love a good first-date romp—I did feel a bit off about how fast my ‘firm boundaries’ melted away.
A Random Instagram Reel Unlocked the Whole Mystery
A few nights later, still rolling my eyes at myself, I stumbled across an Instagram clip that hit like a truck. Neuroscientist Andrew Huberman was explaining something called progressive context bonding. Turns out, when two people visit multiple locations in one day, our brains trick us into thinking the connection is deep and emotional—even when it’s not.
Suddenly it all made sense. He didn’t just randomly pick those spots. He knew what he was doing.
This Trick Isn’t New—It’s Just Well Packaged
As I dug deeper, I realized this wasn’t some genius original idea. Pick-up artists like Neil Strauss wrote about this exact move years ago in his book The Game. Back then, they called it an “instant date”—jumping from place to place to build emotional intensity, fast-tracking the vibe straight to intimacy.
So, I texted a couple of other women I knew had gone out with this guy. Did he pull the same ‘tour of the city’ on them? They both replied with a resounding, “Yes.”
The Problem Isn’t Falling For It—It’s That It’s Designed To Bypass Your Gut
What annoys me most isn’t that I went along for the ride, but that the whole thing was calculated to override every common-sense rule we tell each other. Don’t drink too much. Watch for love-bombing.
Let things breathe. But with him, it was all, “Just one more drink. Let’s go for a stroll. How about a rooftop nightcap?”
Before you know it, you’re emotionally tricked into thinking it’s something meaningful—when really, it’s just well-rehearsed choreography.
Add in some deep questions about your dreams or mirroring your body language, and boom: connection created. At least on your end.
What Happens After? Radio Silence, Of Course
The next morning, you might get a sweet follow-up text like “Last night was magic.”
But within days, it dries up to “Busy week, I’ll shout you later.”
Translation? He got what he came for.
And these guys know it works. It’s emotional fast food—satisfying in the moment, but leaves you feeling empty shortly after.
So How Do You Tell What’s Real and What’s Scripted?
Here’s the litmus test I’ve come up with: The Second-Date Drag.
If he’s truly into getting to know you, he won’t try to pack a month’s worth of novelty into four hours.
He’ll be okay saving that cool rooftop bar or salsa class for another night.
If he’s rushing the experience, chances are he’s just speeding toward the exit—your exit.
Let’s Drop the Shame, Shall We?
Here’s the thing—there’s real chemistry and literal brain chemicals working against you.
Oxytocin, dopamine, adrenaline… they all show up for the ride. It doesn’t make you foolish.
It makes you human. The fix isn’t guilt. It’s awareness.
So tell your friends. Call it out when you see it. If you do decide to go along with it, just make sure you’re doing it on your terms. And, yes, always pack condoms.
Epilogue: He Tried Again, But This Time I Had a New Plan
A week later, he resurfaced with a text: “Got reservations at a new wine bar.
You in?” I replied: “How about brunch next Sunday instead?” Funny thing—he hasn’t responded since.
Guess daylight and eggs Benedict aren’t as magical as candlelit harbour strolls.