I have The Game, but i can't find it, to be able to check.
I think was sometime in 2001.
Does anybody know?

I withdrew five hundred dollars from the bank, stuffed it into a white enve¬
lope, and wrote Mystery on the front. It was not the proudest moment of
my life.

But I had dedicated the last four days to getting ready for it anywaybuying
two hundred dollars worth of clothing at Fred Segal, spending an
afternoon shopping for the perfect cologne, and dropping seventy-five
bucks on a Hollywood haircut. I wanted to look my best; this would be my
first time hanging out with a real pickup artist.

His name, or at least the name he used online, was Mystery. He was
the most worshipped pickup artist in the community, a powerhouse who
spit out long, detailed posts that read like algorithms of how to manipu¬
late social situations to meet and attract women. His nights out seducing
models and strippers in his hometown of Toronto were chronicled in inti¬
mate detail online, the writing filled with jargon of his own invention:
sniper negs, shotgun negs, group theory, indicators of interest, pawning—
all of which had become an integral part of the pickup artist lexicon. For
four years, he had been offering free advice in seduction newsgroups.
Then, in October, he decided to put a price on himself and posted the fol¬
lowing:

A week after sending the e-mail, I walked into the lobby of the Hollywood
Roosevelt Hotel. I wore a blue wool sweater that was so soft and thin it
looked like cotton, black pants with laces running up the sides, and shoes
that gave me a couple extra inches in height. My pockets bulged with the
supplies Mystery had instructed every student to bring: a pen, a notepad, a
pack of gum, and condoms.

I spotted Mystery instantly. He was seated regally in a Victorian arm¬
chair, with a smug, I-just-bench-pressed-the-world smile on his face. He
wore a casual, loose-fitting blue-black suit; a small, pointed labret piercing
wagged from his chin; and his nails were painted jet black. He wasn't nec¬
essarily attractive, but he was charismatic—tall and thin, with long chest¬
nut hair, high cheekbones, and a bloodless pallor. He looked like a
computer geek who'd been bitten by a vampire and was midway through
his transformation.