This is a lengthier post, so if you’re at work perhaps read this in two sections. Or save it for later in the day when you’re back at home with some wine or whiskey in your hand – whiskey if you’re a man, wine if you’re a woman. Women who drink whiskey are disgusting and are NOT welcome here. If you’re a woman who drinks whiskey, stop reading now and leave my blog forever. You whiskey drinking women all remind me of Large Marge, the truck driver from Pee Wee Herman’s movie, and I want no affiliation with you. I still have nightmares about her.
If you’ve been an avid reader of my blog, you’ll know that I have absolutely no ‘game,’ as today’s youth would call it. I recently enjoyed a night in Rhode Island with friends at a bar. After creepily listening to horrible pick-up lines that random, drunk guys were using on my wife, I decided to write this blog to recant the history of my own pick-up lines.
(For those of you who come here only to read about the pathetic stories with my wife, skip down to point number five)
Back when I wrote about this particular failed pick-up line I only had about 50 readers, so very few of you will remember it. You can check out that blog post here, but here’s a quick recap to save you time: I met a blonde girl on one of the sleaziest, awesomest, free online dating sites online; the one-and-only www.PlentyOfFish.com. I always assumed girls prefer guys with unique angles – not physically, but psychologically because who wants to date a guy with a 75-degree spinal tilt? After a few emails back and forth, we agreed to meet on a Sunday for our first date. But things went sour before that Sunday came. On Saturday, I sent an email saying that instead of Starbucks, we should go for a walk at the Boston Commons park. I pushed for that walk because I don’t like coffee too much and I don’t like sitting down. There’s something so unappealing to me about remaining stagnant and talking to a person for the first time in an enclosed area. Whenever I sit near a couple on their first date, their topics of conversation are always so pathetic, and inside my head I’m just embarrassed for the two. Point being, I don’t want to be that entity – that couple – who is having that pathetic conversation and being heard by surrounding people who are likely making fun of us on the inside. That’s why I suggested a walk in Boston Commons so that there was less of a chance people would hear our awkward first conversation. But today I see why she canceled on me. If you’re a woman and a man asks to take a “walk” in the park alone with you, horror-like images probably flashes through your mind. That’s probably why this blonde replied, “No, you creep.”
Cue The Price is Right sound.
I actually feel this is a great line because it’s so different. The girl doesn’t really know if it’s a compliment or an insult, and she’s waiting for the punchline. The problem is after saying this to a blue-eyed girl, I didn’t have a follow-through line. I was just standing there looking at her, waiting for her to say something, while she was waiting for me to say something, and there we were just staring at each other as the tumbleweed rolled by. An excruciating awkward silence. This moment definitely taught me two things: Always have a follow-through line, and never again talk to a girl because you’re not clever enough to think of a follow-through line. And never ever by no circumstances say this to an albino girl even if you are wearing a red shirt.
After suffering for a few months without good pick-up and follow-through lines, I finally found an approach that could work. I went up to a beautiful girl and told her how incredible her hair was. I feel like some girls care more about their hair than any other part of their body. And you can spot those girls in a bar because their hair is always so unbelievably silky – it reminds me of expensive hotel-lobby drapes. I’m not talking about Days Inn drapes, more like Ritz-Carlton drapes (I had to make that differentiation because some of my readers are so poor that they think the Days Inn is a luxury hotel).
After complimenting this girl’s brown hair, I explained to her that I know a lot about good hair because of my obvious Jew-fro and impressively manly leg hair. I lifted my left foot and pulled up my jeans so that my calf was exposed. I boasted my hairy leg like it was a huge bicep, “See what I mean? Pretty awesome, right?”
Amazingly, she was not impressed.
I developed this line after months and months of abstinence – not by choice. I became so beyond frustrated from not sleeping with a woman that I didn’t even care anymore. I went out with my buddies to a shit-can of a dive bar that if you didn’t end up getting laid in this place, you’re basically a worthless sack of male excrement – which, I admit, I was for those nine months prior. This line worked beautifully on an Asian girl. And if you know this blog, you know why Asians love me. I ended up dating her for 1.5 months, which at the time was 1.47 months more than my average relationship with a girl.
On the 44th day of our relationship, this cute Asian girl moved in to kiss me in front of a restaurant. I wasn’t really that into her, so I leaned out of the way and told her, “Sorry, I don’t do Public Displays of Affection (PDA).” Then on the 45th day, she broke it off with me.
I was at a party waiting in line for the bathroom as Courtney – my eventual wife – stood right behind me. She and I were flirting earlier in the night and we began talking again. Once our conversation started to wither down, we both spoke silently and agreed that the girl on the toilet was taking forever. What is it with these women in the bathroom? I understand it takes a bit longer for a girl to piss because she has to sit down. But when you think about the math, women really shouldn’t take that much longer than men in the bathroom.
If a man takes 30 seconds to piss, then a woman should take no more than 45 seconds. It takes me five seconds to take off my pants, and then five seconds to put them back on. So how come it takes women two minutes every time they go to the bathroom? It’s an inefficient use of time and it taxes the penises of men who are waiting in the bathroom line. Do you know how painful it is to hold in a piss?…
I put my ear up against the bathroom door to listen in. Apparently this girl was taking more than just a piss.
I put my hand behind Courtney’s back, brought her a little closer to me. Surprisingly she didn’t call for her. I smirked and said, “So, ummmm, I really wanna kiss you right now?…”
“Was that a question or a comment?” she asked.
I looked at her for a second and ingeniously replied, “Both?…”
She laughed. YESSSSSS! A laugh. I thought to myself, now is your chance!…Thinking that I had her in the bag, I leaned in for a kiss to which I fully expected my lips to connect with hers. I was so confident that I creeped in with my eyes closed. But then I felt a hand on my chest, slightly pushing me away. I opened my eyes and it was Courtney’s hand, rejecting me.
“What?… Why not?” I asked her.
“Well,” she said. “In front of a bathroom where a girl is clearly taking a shit isn’t exactly the spot where I wanted to have my first kiss with you.”
But fear not because in her denial she said this “isn’t exactly the spot where I wanted to have my first kiss with you,” which implies that eventually we would have a first kiss! It was only a matter of time.
The shitting girl came out of the bathroom, and although it looked as if I was being a gentleman by letting Courtney go to the bathroom before me, the only reason I did that was so I wouldn’t have to smell the aftereffects of the previous girl’s sitting. By the time Courtney would be finished, that poop smell would dissipate and I could piss stink-free. But Courtney was one-step ahead of me.
“Oh no way,” Courtney said. “You’re going in there first. I am NOT smelling that crap.”
A couple of hours later, Courtney and I went back to my house to watch one of the worst comedies ever, Get Him to the Greek, in my mother’s living room. She leaned back against me while I had a huge hard-on (‘huge’ is a relative word here. If you’re Black, it means ‘small.’ If you’re Asian, it’s ‘huge.’). An Ace Ventura line kept running through my head during this seemingly awkward moment.
Either Courtney didn’t care or didn’t notice my hard-on driving into her thigh. I was hoping that it was because she didn’t care because if she doesn’t notice, then I would feel like so much less of a man. But if she has yet to move from this position, then clearly she must like my “rocket man” digging into her hip. I mean, you’d have to be a complete virgin to not know that’s my penis, right?
I felt it time to use my legendary, well-timed and thoroughly clever pick-up line. A line that was so robust, suave and James-Bond-like that it would have Courtney melting in my hands and climbing into my bed within minutes.
“So… Do you want to see my room?” I asked. BOOM! What a smooth line that was! I start to get up, expecting her to say ‘yes.’
“Nooo,” she replied. Hmmmm, not the answer I was looking for.
“Are you sure? I’ve got a couple cool things in there.”
She turned to me and snapped humorously, “Let me guess: A bed, a bathroom, and maybe a few trophies from elementary school?”
“Don’t insult my trophies. I was the best soccer player in Brookline, Massachusetts history from kindergarten to sixth grade. Are you telling me those trophies don’t interest you? Are you not compelled by historic, athletic achievements?”
And the rest is history.
Consequentially, my marriage with Courtney is proof that it doesn’t take a great pick-up line to reel in the woman of your dreams. Upstairs I showed her my soccer trophies, after which I attempted to unveil my most proud trophy, and although she had no interest in giving it a shine at the time, at the very least I got a second date.
I used the absolute worst tact possible with Courtney: Trying to make out with her in front of a bathroom where a girl was shitting – asking her like an elementary school boy if she wanted to see the “cool stuff” in my room. But it worked because I was being myself. I was using my nature and she accepted me for who I was. Your words – your pickup lines – have absolutely no effect on a woman. They will not make or break a connection. Your soulmate is destiny.