Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The most interesting pickup line ever.

I was in top form this Monday night.

It probably didn't help (or maybe it did) that I was in a semi-pissy mood from yet ANOTHER GODDAMN MACHINE breaking down... Or at least, that I thought it had.

I was describing to my father (the same man who exclaimed, 'look at that gorgeous crushed velvet dress!' and, 'oh my god, that's a real Tiffany lamp!' watching Auntie Mame) the house my coworker rents a room in. The man who owns it has a house full of gorgeous antiques, and he can talk about them and their history like he's an appraiser. I was creaming my panties listening to the history of all these beautiful pieces. My dad can obviously appreciate my appreciation.

This somehow leads to this:

Me: "Dad, you are so gay."

Dad: "I'm not gay, I'm just happy."

Me: "Yeah, happy to have a dick in your mouth."

Mom: "She's in peak form tonight!"

Yes, I really do talk to my parents like this. And they're all for it. And things like this are just a few of the many reasons I love them and am so thankful I can be myself around them. So many of my friends have to censor themselves and put on a face for their parents. And it's not that I don't respect them, because I really do. I only make remarks like this in good humor.

Later on that night we were discussing my dating post, and my dad asks, "What's the worst pickup line ever?"

To which I respond, "Does this rag smell like chloroform to you?"

He cracks up laughing, because that's exactly what he was going to say.

The reason this is pertinent information, kittens, is because I actually used this line last night. It wasn't a real come-on, but I used it all the same. Felt like a douche the entire time.

My friend and I went out for apps and drinks at one of my favorite (and expensive) local bars last night. They have a fun drink menu, they play lots of old swing like Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, and the atmosphere is just fabulous. As we're drinking, her coworker texts her telling her he is at a nearby bar. She invites him over for a drink. He shows, but doesn't see us snuggled in the comfy armchairs in the corner, and heads to the bar with his friends. My friend is blocked from his sight by the piano, but I am not. I'm laughing watching him scan the bar for us. I asked her if I should go get him using my 'chloroform' pickup line. She dares me.

Kittens, I cannot back down. I've got a mad dope street cred rep to uphold, yo.

I should be hanged, shot, drawn, quartered and dipped in boiling oil for typing that.

Anywho, I grab my napkin and walk over. I linger behind him as if perusing the bar contents, because I'm all blushy and nervous. My heart was pounding. I'm such a goddamn pussy.

I walk around to his side, and say, "Hi."

Motherfucking linguistic master, that's me.

He replies, "Hi there." But it was like one of those drawn out, "Hiiii there..." replies. Keep in mind that I am wearing a gorgeous dress that totally highlights copious amounts of cleavage. And I had on a pearl necklace. Not that kind, you dirty whores. One that dipped into said cleavage. And gorgeous 3 1/2" stilettos. Even my thick skull was registering that he found me attractive.

I blurt out something retarded like, "I am coming over on behalf of a friend who dared me to use this pickup line on you."

He tells me to go for it.

I hold up my napkin and say, "Does this smell like chloroform to you?"

He laughs. Women with him look annoyed. It's obvious neither is his girlfriend, and if they can't take a joke, fuck 'em.

Then I tell him friend and I are sitting over there *gestures to where friend is peeking over the top of the piano laughing* and he's welcome to join us.

He stops me and says, "Is that all you've got for me? No more pickup lines?"

I reply, "I'm not very good at the pickup lines, I'm better at witty comebacks."

He begins firing off hilarious lines like, "Is that a keg in your pants? Because I'd like to tap that ass." and, "Do you wash your pants with Windex, because I can see myself in them."

Thinking back, I should have fired back with something witty like, "Nice pants, they'd look great on my bedroom floor." But I was trying to gather my synapses to keep from turning into a giggly pile of girly jello simply from being flirted with, so I was understandably preoccupied.

He did end up joining us for a while, and he had the whole geek thing going on that I fall for. I have no idea what it is about men in (well-chosen, appropriate) glasses that makes my panties wet, but it just is.

Thus I had my first recognizable flirtation with a guy I've never met before. It was sort of like heroin... Now I can't shake the craving for it. :)

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