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  The Ultimate Way To Become The Perfect Man:

  Unique Secrets of a Former CIA Agent

  Mark McCoy

  Copyright © 2019 Mark McCoy

  All rights reserved; No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the author.

  Contact: [email protected]

  Contents

  Introduction

  Focus

  Location, Timing, Observation

  Your Car

  My Umbrella

  Big Mouth

  There are Times…

  And There are Times…

  Take Care of Your Body

  Dawn of a New Day

  Man’s Best Friend

  Everything is Possible

  Cheers!

  A Well-Oiled Machine

  Want to Undress?

  Zorba or Charles

  The Sixth Sense

  Bond in London

  Man al Dente

  No Nee d

  Twinklings of Understanding

  Survival

  Your Closest Friend

  Steak-Steak

  My Money’s from the Bank…Yeah, Whatever

  You, Me & the Car That’s Following Us

  Me!

  End, Final, Terminal

  OMG! I Don’t Believe It!

  Daddy-o

  Codename Tehran

  One Good Corner

  Nightlife King

  So, You’re His Girlfriend?

  You Can’t Choose your Family

  Monologue from the Vagina

  The Peak of Excitement

  Before We Part Ways

  Decent. Cool. Generous.

  Introduction

  Mark McCoy is a former senior agent at the CIA, America’s intelligence organization. McCoy, fifty-seven years old, retired after thirty years of service, most of them as an operations officer. During his last years, he was mentor and personal educator to hundreds of senior agents all over the world. Many see McCoy as a spiritual teacher, a “Master of Life”. According to McCoy, real professionalism comes from deep layers in the human psyche. Technical skill is necessary, it’s true, but perfection only comes through systematic action on three fronts: man versus himself; man versus life; man versus others.

  When McCoy began writing and publishing his teachings, he quickly gained millions of fans on five continents. McCoy speaks directly to men. The goal: to transform him into the ideal man. The means: a feminine worldview. McCoy believes that your wife is the glory of creation and that you should be worthy of her. Here, he comes to your aid.

  A publisher in the United States once claimed that the day McCoy publishes a book, there will be no man who doesn’t buy a copy for himself, and no woman that doesn’t buy a copy for her man. Today is that day.

  Focus

  Remember that word

  Hey man.

  You may be seventeen or thirty-seven. Single, married, divorced, widowed, straight, gay, bi, whatever you want. Maybe you have a girlfriend, maybe you have a wife, maybe you have a lover. Hey, maybe you have both a husband and a wife. Maybe you’re a student, maybe a mechanic, maybe a broker on Wall Street. Maybe you’re a lawyer, or maybe you need one. Maybe you have Attention Deficit Disorder, maybe you’re in MENSA, the high IQ society. Maybe you’re asexual, or maybe someone once set up a meeting with you just for a good blow job. It doesn’t matter what type of man you are, and which features you came with – you’re a man, in one of the many versions in which we appear.

  Are you happy? What would make you happy? And what would make your partner happy? That’s the problem. She wants you to be a real friend, a seductive lover, a great father to her children.

  She wants you to spend time with her, but have a world of your own. She wants you to be tough but romantic, she wants you to expand your horizons, but not your gut. She wants you to take her to see the world, but remember where you came from. She wants to go out, but wants to feel your presence at home.

  She won’t stop wanting. That’s the source of the problem, and the magic, too. After you prove yourself in some areas, she’ll want other things. That you’ll be there at the birthing, that you won’t be afraid to diaper the baby, that you’ll be a good friend to your eldest child. That you stay in shape, don’t smoke, and move up at work. That you can recommend a good book and watch Orange is the New Black with her. And after all that, after you’ve managed to find twenty-nine hours in a day, she’ll want you to find one more hour for really great, creative sex. At least two different positions. She’ll want all of her friends to want you, but for you to be hers. That you’ll be a traditional type of guy and a symbol of new masculinity. Now, add anything else that you want to the list, and you’ll see that life is just too short.

  I took upon myself a mission: to help you be the perfect man. Insomuch as it is possible, of course. I’m going to deal with you. You’re the subject. Take it seriously. Me, lightly. I’m here for you. I’m not the hero of this book. You’re the hero. I’ve been the hero more than enough times. Aside from the times when I wasn’t. We’ll get to that too. I’m going to give you tools, knowledge and insight that will improve your abilities in everything that’s connected to you. If you follow even some of the tips that I give you, your life is going to change. You’re likely to become the man that every woman wants .

  Tools, knowledge, insight. Believe me, you need them. You’re missing them. It’s not so much your fault as it is the fault of the world that you, me, and all men created. I get the impression that women have sources to draw knowledge from, while we men wander in the dark. Women’s magazines cover almost everything, from pregnancy and birth to ski towns and shopping areas, from Japanese cooking to How to Advance Your Career in a Man’s World. From Italian fashion to everything you wanted to know about sex. Raising children, raising dogs, raising husbands. We men have a few magazines on car mechanics and sports.

  It turns out that we’re to blame. Women have each other. They talk. They tell. They advise. They share. They admit faults and fears. They support each other. We men, we either keep quiet or we drone on and on. We can spend an entire night talking about who’s making it to the Super Bowl and in the meantime, someone’s making moves on our wives.

  When was the last time you talked with a good friend about the fact that you’re not attracted to your wife? When did you admit that you cum too fast? Did you ever tell someone that you never cum during a blow job? When did share your worries about money? When did you say to a friend, “I like you, I’m glad you exist”? When did you tell your girlfriend, “Listen, I’m not close with my father and it bothers me”?

  Men don’t take advantage of the source of information that’s most available to them: themselves.

  We men are suckers, and as with everything, we need to learn from women. Why are they the ones using moisturizer? Why are they indulging in massages and spa treatments? Why are they the only ones who know enough to buy comfortable underwear? Women who are friends can talk about everything and enjoy hour-long conversations because they talk about the things that really bother them. Men can only have deep conversations with strangers at a bar or with the bartender. Women talk with each other about their weaknesses in bed. They confess (“I don’t have orgasms”), or admit to having fantasies and fetishes. Men report like journalists from the battlefield and in most cases, are not very objective. “It was mind-blowing.” Yeah, sure. He�
��ll never admit that he likes it when she spanks him.

  Men live in secret, hiding from themselves and from others. It’s dumb. There’s no real closeness, just empty experiences (We won the game yesterday!” Who won? As though you yourself had actually played). Most men don’t even have a normal handbag. Where do you put your phone, keys, wallet, cigarettes? You probably say: with her. Bad. Very bad. That’s one part of a relationship I’m against. What is she? Your carrier pigeon? Either be independent or go out with your office assistant.

  I know, I’m pissing you off. You think I’m making this up?

  Let’s see. You think that she suddenly disappeared. You stand like a jerk at a fountain in Rome, without keys, without a wallet, without anything. You can’t even call her. Your cell phone is with her. And we’re not even going to talk about how you’re going to help her if she is suddenly in distress.

  ** *

  How am I going to succeed in giving you something? Who am I, anyway? My name is Mark McCoy, and I hope we’re going to be friends.

  I was born in the Bronx, New York. Dad was a boxer and Mom ran a catering company. After Dad was hurt in the ring, Mom made him retire and join her business. They bought out the other partners and worked hard in the fast food business. Dad forced me into the ring for a couple of years, until Mom talked some sense into him and convinced him to “leave the boy alone.” I was a grown kid with a broken nose, two dislocated shoulders and stitches over my left eyebrow, but at least I knew how to protect myself.

  Until I was twenty-eight, I spent a lot of time outside, on the street. On the ground floor, most of the time. It turned out that all of my jobs were on street level. I was a salesman in a video store, a security guard at a dance club, the manager of deliveries at a noodle joint and a pool lifeguard. At the request of a friend of my Dad, I took over as shift manager at a car wash. I moved up and became the manager. I liked watching people. Observing, examining. Every single person, their face, personality, secrets. No two people are identical. I saw thousands of people – every one of them and the scars of their lives. Their eyes, their rhythm, body language, hands. People who were happy and people who were nervous, angry, bitter, troubled. People who were full of confidence and people who were anxious.

  I learned how to anticipate people’s behavior from how they drove into the car wash. I wondered about people’s personalities and how this suited their type of car. Everyone and their story. There are people whose story is ordinary, but a lie, and people whose story is extraordinary, but true. You can see a lot of people, but you don’t really see them. I liked to observe. What does a man do while his car is being washed and waxed?

  I understood that people come to the car wash and don’t know what to do first: have a bite to eat or go into the car wash. Most of them decide to scarf down a hamburger, fill up, pass the time and then go out without washing the car.

  Then I started a car wash business, small, my own.

  Things went pretty well. The business grew. I bought the parking lot next to the car wash. I installed a new, more efficient machine. One weekend, I had an idea: Everyone who comes in for a rinse gets a hot dog. Straight to their car. What a deal. Water outside the car, the guy inside treats himself with some food. The moment he’s finished eating, we clean his car from the crumbs. I became the biggest hot dog joint in the eastern United States.

  There were days when I gave away eight hundred hot dogs. The only delay was due to the speed and capacity of the car wash machine. I developed a method that I called five out of five – which referred to the number of cars on the platform. The machine handled them like one huge car. I made it to one thousand seven hundred vehicles a day. People came by for the hot dogs. I went out in search for the perfect hot dog. I found a top-quality beef farm in Vermont. They developed a line of production especially for me. Six months later, I opened a snack bar on the side. The guy ate three hot dogs while his car went through the car wash. Things peaked on the weekend. The area was empty and entire families came from the suburbs. He came to wash the car; she came to feed the kids.

  Hot wash – hot dog. No chairs, no tables. A huge round bar. Hot dogs, sauerkraut, beer, cola. Every day, some genius came by to give me advice. I knew that I shouldn’t change a thing. Every week, I got new offers. Want to sell? Want a partner? I waited for the arrogant smart-ass to come. And he did. More correctly, they came. Four partners. I sold the business for a ridiculous amount of money. One added French fries. Another brought in newspapers and magazines. A third added waiters, and the last improvement was a fifty-cent surcharge on the hot dogs. Today, the business is closed.

  Focus. Remember the word focus . That’s the secret.

  And then I ran over an old man. The judge found me completely innocent. One witness said that the guy just jumped into the road so he could be finished with this life and make it to heaven. But I took it hard. Why couldn’t I avoid it, why didn’t I see that there was something strange about the way he was standing on the curb? Where were my instincts? Trauma. I decided I needed a change. I moved to San Francisco, finished my bachelor’s degree in psychology, started teaching karate and discovered the Gyro workout. We’ll talk about it later. I started another degree but didn’t finish. One day, two fellows showed up. They took me to an important meeting. To another world. My life changed that night. They presented themselves as representatives of an international company that sells expensive works of art to multimillionaires. I visited their offices and was impressed by the fact that they made no effort to hide the borderline gray area of their activity. The job they assigned to me was director in charge of Europe, a position that required special and prolonged training. I agreed. I passed a series of thorough and particularly exhausting tests. After an interesting, long and grueling journey, I discovered that I had been accepted by the CIA.

  Sons of bitches. But I owe them a lot. I received training there for survival and for the art of life. The initiation period lasted for two years. Two intense, fascinating, formative years. Slowly, I started getting into the work. I traveled the world and saw a lot. Mostly, I saw that you need to see.

  I asked you to take me lightly, but not just me. I want you to take everything lightly. Be more flexible. With yourself and with life. When there’s a problem, coping with it sometimes is more problematic than the problem itself. Let’s say you invite a date to a show. Second date. At the entrance to the theater, you discover that the tickets are lost. They don’t let you in. Most men get dragged into thoughts and behavior that make the embarrassment even greater. It can’t be, this never happens to me, what an idiot I am, and so on. I suggest you smile, give her a little hug and take her to the best bar in town. At the bar, after the second drink, you’ll see that she’s forgotten entirely about the show and admires you for being cool. The only question on her mind is her place or yours.

  By the way, I would have been able to get into the show, and in the future, so will you. But one thing at a time. Let’s start at the beginning. Come on, after you.

  Location, Timing, Observation

  That’s all it takes

  To be a CIA recruiting officer, you need to be a trickster, a survivor; sharp-eyed, bold, charming. A man of men and of shadows. You train in diverse areas. Not just in how to use a gun. That’s obvious. You learn how to dress, charm a woman, enter a hotel room without a key, survive in a strange city, disappear without help, build a cover story and also – though it’s unpleasant to admit – cause damage without leaving a trace. On the one hand, you need to have nerves of steel, be considerate, calculated and restrained; on the other hand, you must be creative, able to improvise, agile and quick at making decisions. You need to have a sixth sense at all times.

  “I’ve got this feeling…” isn’t just something we say. You need to be careful without ever tiring of being careful. If you ask me, anyone behind you is following you. You need an excellent memory, the ability to know where you are and how to navigate (everything is relative, but this was my weakness). Yo
u need excellent physical fitness and mental resistance. There is no end to the skills you need to develop an d the knowledge you need to have handy. You need to be an excellent driver, understand food, know different cultures and customs. You must know the human soul and understand how to silence it.

  You need to be charismatic. People who don’t know you need to act according to your manipulations. For example, take this exercise that students in the course are required to do: You must – now and quickly – find someone who will lend you their cell phone. Foreign country, different language, you look different. Who will you turn to? How much time will it take? Will you draw attention to yourself? Create suspicion? You’re expected to succeed on your first try, within forty-five seconds. Afterwards, you need three more successful attempts.

  This little exercise is just the tip of the iceberg. What will tempt people? What will change their minds? What will cause them to cheat? Betray you? When will you be able to trust someone? When must you avoid risks? How can you manipulate people and get what you want? How can you get people to trust you? To become a leader? The way I see it, everything depends on three things:

  1. Location

  2. Timing

  3. Observation

  Location

  Think about things that are completely different from each other. Judo, a passing car, breaking into a compound, building a house. In each and every one of them, location means advantage, control. Ancient rulers who chose where to build their fortresses, a lion preying on a doe by the shore, a rich man interested in buying a house, you looking to rent an office. What do all of these things have in common?

  Often, timing is also important. Within a few days, the owner of a new café will find his favorite table where he sits and runs the business. I’ll go into the café and be able to tell you where that table is within fifteen seconds. It’s a matter of skill. Born and acquired. And there’s more rationality to location. In an elevator, airplane, in choosing which line to stand in, where you sit in the theater.