Crazy summer of 2011

Yes. It's been a while. The fact is all my friends are grown-ups now. And so am I. Does it mean the end of our crazy adventures, summer flings, fast track boyfriends, easy girlfriends? Is it from now on all to expect a maternal call from within to fulfill one more task? Baby crying, diaper changing, early mornings, dull eyes, duller skin, flat shoes and sweatshirts? No drinks, no early hour shame walks? It feels odd to believe so. So, I tripped and fell, rolling down the memory lane... The time not so long ago that felt like being 16 again.

Hot summer days can literally boil your brain. This is proven by the story that happened somewhere in some city with some certain crowd of people that somehow got lost after that summer night. Drinking from the bottle with different connotation. Terrace in the middle of the week where drinks were proposed and none rejected. Wine, strong, stronger... Talks, laughs, hidden smiles, flirtations, first kisses and blackouts. It went on well in the night, flying high and falling deep. The next morning. When alarm clock went off at 6 am. Not knowing their names, their location. Vehicle left on some parking, grabbing a cab and trying to look normal in the office. The hardest working day whatsoever. Stomach had made serious acrobatic flip overs umpteen times until the clock stroke noon. Lunch. At last. Smell in the cafeteria brings back hot memories lingering from last night. Who with whom? Some couples were made, some unmade. What's done is done. Now is time to recover or try to recover what can be recovered. It will take a while, at least for pride to regain its former status. To return to daily routine, forget what needs to be forgotten and keep those precious one-on-one moments.

We don't really talk about that certain terrace night. There were so many embarasing, cheerful, funky, sexy, moving and rememberable moments that only one special look can grasp. We glance at each other... And smile. 

The night my mobile phone should've stayed in

Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (after noon) and the room is still feverishly moving around you? Yes? Everybody does.
Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (before noon, because your hangover is disturbing your sleep) and the room is still feverishly dancing around you and you suddenly receive flashbacks of the night before? Yes? How about that...
Do you know that feeling when you open your eyes in the "morning" (eh, it is not important anymore) and the room is still feverishly dancing around you and you suddenly restore some parts of your lost memory and you are rapidly sobered up by text messages? No, you are not popular. The phone is not ringing. You made someone else popular last night with shameful, tasteless and uncensored texting that spoke your mind exactly as it was. The cruel reality...

Walking with a bag on you head for a month...

Let's say you fancy someone. Polite flirting, phone number exchange... everything went according to a plan secretly stored and locked in your head. You are alpha and omega of making your crush like you. So, why isn't he writing more often? What in the name of Eros happened? Is my plan outdated? Why hasn't he invited me to a coffee yet? It seems you are getting lost in the labyrinth of you hectic thoughts, however, to your own luck, your sober sanity is still there. You are playing hard to get, hell - you invented the game - and have no intention of texting whatsoever. Even though your mind plays tricks on you and from time to time your concentration drops, you still manage to get by and do all the work. You're the man (metaphorically speaking). By the evening he is long forgotten.
Because of all the hard thinking and other work you've done, now's the time to relax and revitalize with your friends. Just a quick refined drink and you're off. Back home preparing for yet another successful working day. However, this elegant evening got interrupted somewhere between third and fourth drink, when you already made peace with yourself about just being spontaneous. And speaking of it... how harmful could it be to write one short text message? Please. You are an adult perfectly capable of restraining yourself, right? Wrong. This civilized behavior turned into a texting contest - mostly to yourself - and by the time you've realized that no one hasn't replied for a while, you could not care less. That is, until the next morning. When the last of the scenarios above projected in your head. Not checking what you wrote last night, would have been the smartest thing to do, nevertheless, your curiosity have won. Wow. The extent of perversion to which a human mind can go. Wow. Amazing. Marquis de Sade would have been proud. All in all you cannot seem to decide why wasn't he replying anymore - perhaps he was masturbating all along and fell asleep in the middle, or his pure mind was completely destroyed by your filthy talk and he had to purify himself again by physical punishment? Or, and this is something you dislike, he is just not that into you?
Whatever the answer might be, you feel shame run through your body like electricity. Well, what's done is done. Next time... there will be no next time, because:

...or simply leaving your mobile at home?

xoxo

A dangerous method of mulled wine

December brought first snow, holiday lightning and - our favorite - mulled wine. Freezing temperatures, light rain, fog and demonstrations against our government couldn't have stopped us from having our one, two, three cups of mulled wine. The company was sublime, as I have managed to gather (almost) all of my favorite people.
I really can't handle my drink, even if it comes in the form of cooked and half evaporated alcohol (perhaps something to do with the fact that my last meal was about 6 hours prior to my first and not last cup of mulled wine). Since almost every man in my presence had the need to pay for at least one round, I was hugging, loving and generally so excited about my friends by the early evening. Well, at least I am "fond of people", not "drama queen" type while being a bit intoxicated. 

A good friend of mine was also present and she has just acquainted me with her new male friend. She was in a right mood to confess they have been having wild sex for a while. And she couldn't get enough of it (the sex and the man).
We kept chitchatting, accompanied with mulled wine without exception. At one point I had to stop drinking, my limit has been crossed a while ago, or better yet, I couldn't see the limit line for quite a while. In this moment - more aware of surrounding people, I have noticed something else had stopped as well. Being around. My friend was gone and so was her friend...

No limits

As she suddenly reappeared, I have noticed a strange glow on her face. To a professional eye this glow looked as one thing and one thing only. They've just been doing it. I wanted details. I needed details.
In the old town there are very tiny alleys and even if the centre is crowded, you can still get away to a secret spot and have some privacy (or so we hope). They found such a place, suitable for some canoodling and a bit more. Pants down, legs up - you know the routine... As she was explaining where, how and more importantly how long, all I could think was: Honey, if can get it up after so much wine and perform in such a freezing temperatures... Then, he's a keeper.

Cheers to that!

xoxo

P.S. As for me... I left my car downtown and took a cab. It was a stressful day ;)

Facebook life or the dying out of coffee or when is time to just stop?

I have joined Facebook in 2007, if I remember correctly. In December 2007, I think, and I was the late one among my friends.

Recent months were dedicated to shrinking my online personality, which goes for posting pictures and other online activities. To be honest, this decision came spontaneously, without much thinking. Somehow it seemed wise to me to deliberately stop using computer as much, since we all have to interact with it for work and everything else. So why not minimize it where possible. Facebook was the most time-consuming and the least intellect expanding. There was no competition. 

Are there any benefits? Without doubt. I read more books, go to hang out with my friends more - to be precise, the circle of my friends broadened - , and I have time. Just time on my hands to do whatever. To climb a tree, to ride a bike, to take a stroll, to sip coffee on a balcony...

Any negative sides? As well. But silly ones, like spending more money in bars while chatting with friends. And that feeling that somehow someone is forgetting about you because you are not online so much. As I said, silly.

Nevertheless, I believe we should socialize more in person, so here are some quite good examples of why you should post less and think more about what you’re posting, if you’re still doing that frequently... And yes, go out more.

No.1

You do remember the Haiti disaster, I guess. It was quite cold in Slovenia at the time and an acquaintance of mine made a relatively innocent comment about blankets that were being transported to Haiti - she was freezing and she wouldn’t mind to have one herself, so she suggested that a plane passing Slovenia dropped one at her door. Being a semi-celebrity in Slovenia this post was furiously adopted by many gossip web sites and the mini scandal began. 

Wannabe journalists (trust me, “wannabe” stands correctly here - you should see the level of “journalism” on those websites, and I am not defending her - trying to be very objective here) scooped over her past posts to reveal many jokes she posted that were not meant to go public. Ever. Even though the jokes were cruel, yet really really funny (some of them were an example of good old black humor), they were only jokes. Posted so many times by others. And I know for a fact from a person working in the same media house hosting the web site, that everyone was telling her jokes for months to come. And they all laughed. Strongly. But the damage has been done. Luckily, another gossip came through.

No. 2

This one is more international, I’d say. We all know Tracy. Yes, the OMG Tracy. The epic fail. I believe there are no words needed to explain this, the post speaks for itself. And it is very loquacious.

No. 3

Ant another one for the end. International dessert again. Why would you want to post that? Seriously. It’s bad enough the people involved have the memory of it.

Have a lovely evening outdoors...

xoxo

Naughty girl(s)

Current state I am in could be described as an intellectual blockade. Mostly in blogging/writing department. Which is sort of inconvenient since I have made a promise (to myself, more or less) about writing a column-like post every Tuesday (I wonder, how long will I be able to do that - it’s not such an easy task to maintain). For my lack of imagination this week, and the previous one, if I am being honest here, I decided to take a trip down memory lane. A story mentioned in the following lines is some version of the truth. I hope you can relate to that expression...

A special birthday celebration...

When ladies party they party hard. The roof can be very much on fire sometimes. Drinks make it all easy to forget and sometimes we never ever wish to remember. That wish is granted sometimes. The other times it is buried for a while until it pops like a sparkling champagne on a celebration night.

A friend of mine was marking an eighteenth birthday. The parties are usually wild, since this is the age you can officially start being a grown up (mental maturity comes after a decade or so in most cases). Liquor, booze, drinks, alcohol... However you name it according to your local rules, the effect remains the same.

At some point one of the invitees permanently and deliberately stopped drinks counting, which inevitably resulted in many embarrassing words spoken afterwards. Luckily, forgotten forthwith and never spoken about in months to come.

Now, you must be wondering how did all of us come to a knowledge about better-not-to-be-ever spoken dialog (or better yet, monolog). Intoxication level was not equal for all the ladies. Some of them remained quite clear and conscious, therefore also possessed a memory of that special night. So, they spread the word.

A friend in question never wanted to know about the exact happening and especially about the words spoken in that very night, so we kept our pretty little mouths shut. Until one sunny day spent on the seaside...

We competed with some men we had just met on a subject of the most embarrassing story ever happened to us. The friend from the party was not giving any material, since she thought of herself as a polite Eliza. For easier understanding, I shall call her Eliza from now on. The other friend, not knowing about Eliza not knowing of the events that took place on that special night, suggested her moment as the most embarrassing one, accompanied by an explanation:

While we were celebrating one birthday there was a group of guys we knew from our neighborhood. For the first time in our lives we were more drunk as them (trust me, this is an accomplishment). This Eliza character decided she likes one of the man in the group. So, she went to prey upon him. Although she knew he had a girlfriend and although she knew her. Oh, the girlfriend was standing on the other side of the bar and he was not even that handsome. The attack on the victim was direct. He was trying to explain about his girlfriend’s whereabouts. No success. Eliza was even more direct. She used specific wording, not a very fortunate one... What, you think that I don’t fuck better than you girlfriend? (At the moment guy’s reaction is not important, so we shall skip that. Besides, no one remembers it).

Eliza’s face turned purple. Instantly we understood that she didn’t know about that night. Ups.

No hard feelings in the end. We had a laugh, the one that causes pain in the abs department. Eliza won, by the way. You know. The trophy for the most embarrassing moment.

My imaginative friends saved my blogging for today. Look what they made me do... ;)

I cannot remember where was this picture taken from. I had it on my computer.

Weekend gone wild

Interruption no. 1

You’ve heard about it, perhaps you’ve even tasted it. I am talking about a perfect relaxing weekend. No strings attached. Only plenty of sun and nothing to do but indulge yourself in little treats. This weekend is drastically standing out of the sea of rainy metallic weekends followed one by one in April and even May. In this story you are sipping your very late early morning coffee and nibbling a fresh croissant. La dolce vita in the twenty-first century. As if this peaceful perfection wasn’t enough, you see a man in the distance. A very well looking man, indeed. As he’s approaching closer, a familiar shiver runs thorough your body. It feels like you have met him before. Yes. You have met him before, indeed. A romance gone bad on two feet.

It ended childishly. With phone calls in the middle of the night and pretense the next day about nonexistence of the call. Of course, you weren’t the one making that call. However, you were the one who left the battlefield with a strong unpleasant taste that you had liked the idea of a relationship more than he did. It doesn’t matter. He made that silly phone call. Not you. You won in a way. Or that’s what ladies like to think.

As all that memories briskly flash through your thoughts, you don’t even notice he’s gone. Went in his direction. Did not see you. What? Again, true woman kicks in and you wish he had seen you. But who needs racing heart and destruction of a perfect moment? So, you rather go back to indulging yourself. You take a stroll down the river and you check the new antiques on a market next to it. Funky thoughts have vanished.

Interruption no. 2

Walking slowly to yet another bar. You feel like grabbing a cake. A splurging chocolate one. Mmm... your favorite place is waiting. Even the right waiter is in the shift. Then, you see him. Another him. A crush not so recently forgotten. Choosing a distant table with a pretty view on his pretty smile sounds like a good idea. A dinner and a show, only it’s a cake and a smile.

Interruption no. 3

As the day starts to transform into the night, it’s time to drive home and get ready for the evening life. Whatever city can offer. Nothing can surprise you anymore, since you’ve seen it all today. La-la-la-la... the radio plays one of your favorite oldies. Red traffic light. You pause. Green. Turning right. Waiting for the pedestrians. And bikes. Hm. What? Him again? The first him from the tale.

Help. A man down. You dreamt occasionally about running him over. With his stupid I didn’t make that phone call (it was his friend, the rumor has it). No, he is still standing. Well, riding a bike, more precisely. Perhaps you’ll land on top of him in some other movie. Wait. You already have.

What’s going on with some days? You just keep running into specific people listed in specific groups according to your past. It reminds me of a parade of failed romance, complicated crushes and disappointing flirtations.

Man. What a weekend!

Pick up line - short tutorial (part III)

How about that... 


Are you a single mother?


I see something... I see single life. Forever.

Seriously, dude...

Pick up lines part II or how you haven’t learned much

It’s been only month and a half, but here we are again facing communication issues among men and women (we knew about the existence of the problem before my era, I’m sure...). Apparently, first lesson was not well comprehended and we all need a repetition. These following stories are very much real, again. Unfortunately, again. However, witty. Mostly, I hope. Some are very fresh, straight from the bakery, as for others... Well, I couldn’t reveal all at once, could I?

Oh, the smell of another person...

A newly red-headed friend of mine attended quite famous marketing event (quite famous for Slovenian borders, that is). I guess meeting hot people on such occasions is relatively normal. A good looking guy approached my friend, still blond at the time (I am not making any suggestions about her intellect. She is very bright). 

Him: Mmm, you smell nice. I like your perfume. My girlfriend has one alike.

Her: Thanks.

Him: Let’s go to my room.

Ok. I’ve heard pro and con discussions are popular nowadays, therefore I’ll try to jump on the bandwagon. Pros: compliment and honesty. Con: the girlfriend part was not in good correlation with the last sentence.

Case closed.

Feather in his pants

Direct approach can be like a fresh breeze on a hot Sunday afternoon. As long as it’s not too fresh. Like a hurricane, for example. Let’s learn a thing or two on an example.

One girlfriend was visiting her foreign boyfriend. They (pronoun stands for a group, not just  two of them) went out partying. Another foreign man made a pass at her. A very unusual one. While words you’re so beautiful were flying out of his mouth, he came very very close... so close that he actually started to unzip her jeans. Em, any comments?

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case.

And another thing...

Try to steer clear of drunken boys. They are spitting while talking and truthfully, you can’t understand a thing they’re saying. It’s more or less like Sean Paul’s lyrics. You hear the sound but that’s about it.

Finally, I’d like to make an invitation. Not to be discriminating. I’d like to encourage boys to tell me some of their experience with awkwardly invented pick up lines and funky deeds. I’m sure we’re not that smart as we like to think... Because I know about my mistakes. And trust me, they’re kind of embarrassing. 

The picture is taken from www.thecoolhunter.net

Going international or how different we really are

I’ve just met a woman, who has had a decent number of international relationships. You probably know that story about discovering together with your “new friend” how many acquaintances in common you actually have. No? Then you come from a bigger country than I do. In my hometown conversing to each other usually brings us to conclusion about the relative size of the World and this chitchat was no exception. It turned out I was about to go to a wedding, where one of her ex-boyfriends is among the invitees.

Since several top secret information have been revealed on that very day (about ex-boyfriends, gay friends, straight friends, old friends), I feel a strong urge to explain that it was a Friday afternoon and polite after work tea turned into a drinking competition. Later it came to my knowledge, that I won. Whatever. Anyway, let’s return to the story...

The kind of behavior that invented therapists...

A tall handsome dark man (yes, I’ve seen him on the wedding. He scored quite high on the “looks” scale) from another part of the Globe had several issues. At the moment I am struggling with my flashing brain where to start a story: his strange relationship with a plastic fantastic mother, his love to a special piece of cloth (more precisely, a blanket or in his words “blanky” - yes, it even had a pet name. Trust me, you do not want to know since when this invisible connection between him and his “blanky” existed. Ok, I am lying. You simply HAVE to know: since very early age of his life - when he was circumcised) or his narcissistic alliance with himself (the rumor has it, he keeps a book - sort of an album about him, so when he’s feeling down, he can go to a secret shelter and flip through the book. Evidently, I am so passé - chocolate is still my mood booster). I guess I have narrated the story despite my chaotic brain situation. Hopefully it was clear enough to grasp the core: the boy has issues. Clearly. Some sort of therapy could and should be suggested, however, who am I to judge. Let’s move on...

Being eco or is eco just an excuse?

In October 2011 I had a traveling spree. In Europe. Mostly two-hour flights from home. I met some friends to be, or - how I like to call them - candidates for future foreign friends. Even before I came to one of the European countries I had heard gossip about their supposedly stinginess. You can’t make any assumptions according to rumors, so, honestly, I had completely forgotten about it. Then I had met this non-native guy, who had a native boyfriend. Once upon a time they were grocery shopping. Something to eat when your not in a cooking mood. Something to put in the microwave when you come home. Something just around the corner.

The non-native guy expected they’ll go immediately to their crib and prepare this high calorie meal in an American movie style (you know, when the character puts frozen food in the microwave and talks on the phone while doing it). For they had been just around the corner. Well, wrong.

The man in the shop offered to microwave the meal for them and the native guy agreed. Myself, the non-native guy and you are probably asking why??? It’s just around the corner! However, there was been a reason. The native guy decided to save some energy. Eco friendly of simply stingy?

All different = all equal

There are definitely good reasons to be so diverse. Embrace it. And make fun of it. You know what they say... Laughter has many health benefits :)

Kiss and tell or who’s the real gossip girl

Though it’s not the most flattering and mind opening daily activity, I humbly confess to read or flirt with one, sometimes two gossip web pages. It’s shameful, childish and utterly... neccessary. Somehow it feels good to read that one celebrity had a nervous break down, ex-miss of something put extra fat in her body (no, I don’t mean she is on the heavier side, but her lips suddenly look as if a bad allergy reaction to strawberries occurred) and a painful split up is on the verge of going public (Brangelina perhaps? Sorry, I still cannot get over the Pitt-Aniston divorce). But how about the real life? Or horror of all horrors if the hot topic is one of us?

Some people could probably make a living out of gossiping. Broadcasting juicy news live makes radio a complete amateur compared to their developed business. Like any other trade it takes years to mature the gossiping talent to the borders of perfection. However, don’t be fooled by the gender and don’t believe stereotypes... “Some people” in my mind are suprisingly men.

The art of keeping a secret or natural shortcomings

Living in a small city has its privileges. Walking distances, windy bicycle rides from the east to the west, knowing one another... The latter can be tricky, though.

I have a friend who by the time of the ongoing incident happened to be a heureuse single lady, living in a no-strings-attached way. Why not, you may ask yourself. The only thing she wanted to do is to get the most out of her fabulous solo life.

Meeting new (not) interesting men was on daily menu. You cannot judge a book by its cover, I suppose, so she didn’t. Although his behavior didn’t speak in his favor (pick up lines obviously worked the way they should), she gave the romance a go. After a few brief encounters the joyride ended. No harm done. For both partners in crime. Until...

Details from between the sheets were clearly presented to the almost whole male population of the city. What’s there to add? The man has simply bad manners. She didn’t go around spreading the word about his equipment, did she? And speaking of it... Us, closer girlfriends, do know a small secret. Hm. Unfortunate wording. I admit, I am getting mean here and because physical shortcomings are not a laughing matter, I’ll rephrase this into a more diplomatic sentence. The man could wear short pants. Really really short pants. Hot pants.

I can’t decide which of the following is more awkward. Being town’s gossip about sleeping around (and words being good at it come right along) or having modest tools. I will allow you to give the final judgement.

The lesson between the lines is hopefully clear. Never kiss and tell. Because you can’t know when and how it will come around. Inevitably and faithfully. As a boomerang. Reading page six gossip is perhaps less dangerous and harmful...

P.S. I confess, Chuck Bass and Blair Waldorf are my favorites. Nevertheless, Gossip girl is a drama series, not a real life. On the other hand... they probably get the ideas from us. Nonfictional people.

Decisions decisions or splitting the bill - a new etiquette of courtship

We live in a time where there are some difficulties with decisions. From the most simple ones, such as “Should I buy another pair of shoes?” to the most complicated occuring as a rule in the morning: “What to wear?!?” I am sure the answer to the first question is logical... (YES!) As for the other... it’s a bit trickier.

I would really like to present a certain issue. Or, better yet, let us be positively oriented and call it a challenge. So much better. I am sure some employers would love me. Seeing challenges instead of problems. Now, back to the topic... 

Since we live in capitalism it would be so unfair to shut our eyes wide about the popular phrase cruising the world about some ladies: gold digging whore. My sincere appologies for the strong language. The phrase spread the wings over the globe so much, that a not-meant-to-be-harmful coffee that I am not paying for, became an enemy. So, where is the line?

Should we expect of a man to take care of the bill?

If in France, yes. Or so I heard - from my French teacher. According to him women in France don’t even leave the house with a wallet. Supposedly it’s normal for French men to take care of the finance while going out. I’ve never experienced that. While being in France, of course. Perhaps I went to Paris with a wrong crowd. They were obviously not French.

Acting coy

Some men like to think their bank account displays a 7-digit number and bumping into one of them on the street always results in many drinks paid by the imaginary millionaire. I play along. And never grab my wallet. If he wants to keep appearances, so let it be. I usually end up being drunk, you?

50 - 50 option

An acquaintance of mine used to date men that were quite well off. And they were more than willing to contribute for her atributes. With gifts, dinners and all the things that come along with playing a sugar daddy role. Until she met someone. Someone she actually liked. Spending time on the seaside is something you usually do with a boyfriend and so they did. He took care of the money issue without exceptions. Heavenly, I would dare to say. 

You have probably heard of the following saying, no, I am 100% you have: there’s no such a thing as free lunch. And while talking about percentage, I might also mention that the settlement arrived. On the last day. On a sheet of paper. With listed expenses. From a previous week. Split up. Half-half. 50%-50%.

She had no idea this little vacation was a down payment for the bill that was yet to come. She paid for it. Fair and square.

Taking turns

The topic speaks for itself. My turn, your turn, my turn, your turn... This pattern mostly works with my lady friends. Not for all, of course. Some can’t remember their turn. Ever.

Depending from initiator

I like to follow this simple rule: if on a date (or just a coffee), and the invitation was my idea, I would like to pay for a drink, food, whatever. However, the final result depends from the person on the other side. It can be 50-50 or zero for me. Sometimes I might “argue”, knowing that I will not have any success. For some men are gentlemen. No matter what.

Photography was taken by a good friend of mine while waiting for another friend to arrive and grab a coffee. Thanks.

Pick up lines tutorial or how Harry wouldn’t have met Sally if he had said the wrong things

A lesson about appropriate approach

“Do you shave or wax?”

No, it’s not a line taken from a beautician’s salon. It’s a real life tragedy which occured in a pretty known club where I live. My good friend was involved in a bizarre conversation that ended abruptly. I sincerely hope I do NOT need to explain why. Nevertheless, just in case...

Most women like straightforward men. Nothing wrong with knowing what or who your target is, and the scope you want to achieve. The strategy in-between you and the desired object is, however, crucial for success. Now, back to “shaving/waxing situation”. Really, there is so little to discuss about that particular happening. If nothing else, we - that is me, my friend in question and the others - had a really good laugh, when she told us about the unfortunate wording the guy used. On the other hand, some ladies can be pretty aggressive... You might even get physically attacked! 

Let me summarize this story with daring question: Is your goal to be a laughing target or punching bag?

“All men want only one thing...”

Yes, and all women know what that thing is. At least the smart ones.

This exceptional conversation started on a pleasant night downtown one capital city. Strangely, the man pronouncing funky opening line was handsome, so my astonishment was even bigger. When he mentioned “the one thing”, he made a pause. Not only he started this from the beginning doomed conversation, but he also expected me to finish the sentence. Seriously? Sadly, yes. Where I come from we have a suitable saying. It does not translate really well, but I’ll make an effort: only filthy swine has filthy thoughts. Hopefully you have understood the message.

The other or the bright side

I always like to conclude with optimism and luckily there have been some good pick up line examples in my résumé.

Once upon a time, when I was phoning on the corner in front of a bar, emmiting the obvious signals of waiting for someone, a guy approached me. He said: “Sorry I kept you waiting.” Though I was in the middle of the conversation, my mind felt intrigued.

I still think this was one of the best pick up lines in the history of all pick up lines. The fact that the guy was missing a front tooth will probably ruin the impression, but I felt the urge to explain why the line didn’t work. In addition to a fact, that I had a boyfriend.

Imagination on the loose

With my co-workers from the previous job interesting chitchats were on the daily menu. Inventing - or better yet - talking about pick up lines took place on one sunny day in the office. I will never forget this smart yet witty pick up line we talked about...

Boy: How much does a mammoth weight?

Girl: Dunno.

Boy: Enough to break the ice.

Girl (laughing)

This imaginary story has a lot of presumptions, such as: if in a foreign country, a girl should speak English. Also, she has to reply, that that scientific data is not in her knowledge.

The fact is that real life situations can be tricky. For this particular reason we eventually forgive and start to laugh. Besides, women can be silly too. But that is already another story... Involving a pick up line such as: “Did you fart?” Perhaps I’ll explain this certain matter some other time. I have no intentions of making us feel silly. Yet :)

P.S. Old-fashioned “Would you like to grab a coffee?” might work. Plain and simple. No agenda (or so it seems). Coffee can be just a coffee... but also something more.

Pictures sources: 
http://coreyotten.com/?attachment_id=38
http://postthelove.com/entry/6a0134813a9702970c01348753dec5970c