Thursday, April 06, 2006

Episode 18: Why would she want to be picked-up?

She says:

I clicked open my gmail inbox, and almost fell off my chair. There it was, boldly printed across the page. "If I were stranded on a desert island, I wouldn't need three things - I'd just take you," from some guy I didn't even know.

And I thought Austin Powers was the only person with enough chutzpah to use pickup lines in this day and age!

A pickup line (and this is to all you squares who've never feverishly browsed the net, or taken down lines from movies to impress a girl) is an outrageous icebreaker, used by some smooth operators. And many, many complete klutzes.

But, no matter how witty or pathetic they are, they always achieve one thing. They give women a really good laugh.

And sometimes, that's the best icebreaker you can possibly have.

After all, most of the best lines are the funny ones. Like the guy who beams, "You know, I'm not really this tall. I'm just sitting on my wallet." Or a simpler, "Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?" Besides, who can resist someone who saunters over and says, "You see my friend over there? (Pointing to friend who sheepishly waves from afar.) He wants to know if you think I'm cute."

Well, provided he's cute.

Because a pickup line is a conversation starter and is therefore only as useful as the conversation that follows it. So if you're going to be a duck anyway, don't bother swaggering about with just one line in your head.

Especially if it's the Dumb And Dumber variety: "So yr a girl, huh!" or, "I'm not trying to pick you up. You're like too heavy. Huh huh huh huh. Get it?"

If you think that's bad, try being on the receiving end of lines that make you wonder how he manages to walk without melting into a mess of gooey pink slop. Like "I didn't know angels could fly so low!" Or "Your beauty makes the morning sun look like the dull glimmer of the
moon." Ew!

But even they're better than the stock, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?" Or even more yawn-worthy, "What's your sign?"

They might trigger a response, but - trust me - she's far more likely to remember the chap who murmured, "Was your father a thief? Because he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes." Even if it's only in a hysterical bout of laughter.

He Says:

Yeah, right.
If pick-up lines were the only things you needed to break ice, man would have bought real estate in Antartica. And built castles the size of skyscrapers.

It's no big deal really, after all, pick-up lines (all the good ones she listed) are just a website ( http://www.linesthataregood.com has 1200 such lines) or a Google search away. Why would a girl fall for a pick-up line? Unless she wants to be picked up.

Let's face it, if women went only for men who make them laugh, Senthil, Goundamani, Loose Mohan, Johnny Lever, Vadivelu, Vivek, Crazy Mohan and Cyrus Broacha would be grinning away on a water-bed in some beach-house in Ibiza with a hundred bikini babes around them doing the MTV Grind.

So what role to lines play anyway?

They work as a mere excuse, if she's waiting to be picked up. She would laugh even if you told her that she needed a dentist appointment, instead of saying "I need an dentist appointment. I just dropped my jaw and need to fix it."

(Psst: Now, if her theory is true, for that line above, I should be having more dates than the calendar. Instead, my life is the sort of desert where even dates of the edible variety refuse to grow.)

So are there better ways to make her remember you?

Yes, of course.

Sit next to her, make sure the bartender sees you talking to her (What do you talk? Ask her what time it is and leave saying: "See you soon" ) and when she's not looking, tell the bartender she's paying and walk away. She'll find you. If she doesn't, how does it matter? You just got yourself a free drink. *grin*

Episode 17: Do the Chance Pe Dance like a Man!

She says:

Macho men don't dance. But that's why they're so dumb. Because even as they skulk manfully beside the bar, looking snottily at the dance floor as they flex their muscles picking up ice cubes, some smooth operator with gel in his hair will oil in and impress all the women with his John Travolta moves.

Women adore men who dance. And who can blame them? It's a choice between standing like a wallflower besides Rambo all night, as he tries to make small talk over loud addictive music, or being swept onto the dance floor by a hunky Ricky Martin look alike, (and men with dance moves somehow always seem hunky) who then proceeds to teach you how to salsa like some groovy girl from the movies.

Yeah. You can blame it on the movies. Every girl who's ever been brought up on a balanced diet of dance movies, from John Travolta in Grease to Patrick Swayze in that all time favourite 'Dirty Dancing,' dreams of someday meeting The Man Who Dances.

However, he's as rare a species these days as The Man Who Opens Doors. And the whole problem is the fact that a large number of men think dancing is effeminate. Which, in other words means, they look like idiots on the dance floor.

Fortunately, help is at hand. Dance schools are opening up in ever city. And are they drawing people? Well, does Puff Daddy like jewellery?


Women flock to dance classes. And, as everyone knows, where women go men will follow. The smart men who learn how to dance have a never-fail opening line at parties, "Shall I teach you the Samba/Salsa/ Lambada/ to Jive?" I've seen parties where women queue up to dance with these man.

And for Rambo? Well, let's hope his ice keeps him warm.

He says:

Going by her account, there are only two kinds they notice in a disco: A Rambo or a Disco Dancer.

I won't bother taking Stallone's side because she's anyway explained why he's boring.
What I would talk about is the disco dancer: Yes, yes, the Mithun Da types. (Then what? You thought you ll find Patrick Swayze or Travolta on the dance floor? This is India, madam. Here only hero-tapori or dance master types do dance-wance on the floor.)

Actually, I CAN imagine her match step to step with the likes of Prabhu Deva, Raju Sundaram, Govinda, Mithun or Simbu, all reputed to be the best dancers around. Or occasionally, the Michael Jackson look-alikes doing the moonwalk after a couple of rounds.

Since these guys are obviously unattainable, the women settle for lesser dancers. Like that one guy on the floor who can dance, the smooth operator who has more dates than the calendar itself. What does this guy do? He entertains yet another woman who fancies her chance with him for a dance or more. Does the 'dance' when he gets a chance or more.

Before he can move over to the prettier, hotter, item number on the floor. Like she said, there's a queue to choose from.

Before he can arrive at the best of the lot, he has to be polite enough to entertain scores of other women with two left feet, bad breath, body odour, terrible sense of humour, alcoholics and the other single lonely Bridget Joness who fancy him.

While one out of these 100 get the man that evening, what happens to the other 99? They go hunting for others who can dance, wait for their turn or drink their blues away. Three drinks later, when they can't tell whether they are dancing or not, our man with the ice-cubes steps in. Now our Stallone has a choice: 99 desperate women!

Come on guys, who would you rather be? A guy with the arms to carry her home? Or the guy mobbed by women you don't want to dance with?