I went to a benefit last night for Sweet Tea Creek's production of Grace, in this year's Fringe Festival. The drinks were flowing, the folks were friendly, and even a few ladies' wallets were won during the raffle.
But by far the highlight of the evening was the extremely unsuccessful attempt by a guy whose name I can't even remember (even though he gave me his card... which I promptly gave away to someone else) to pick me up.
I was standing in a group, talking to some friends (both of whom were guys) and I had my hands on my hips (not wildly unlike I do in my picture). This guy walks right into my elbow. And then strikes up a conversation. He asks us each where we grew up, and then other random questions like what our favorite colors were or what we thought about elephants. At one point, one of my friends points out that WeirdoMan has started addressing his questions exclusively to me, and I, in my eloquence, say, "well, I am the only one here with tits."
And this is where the guy lost all points for all men for all eternity.
"Eh, your tits are only as big as mine."
Dear Men of the World,
THIS LINE WILL NEVER GET YOU LAID. If my tits are small, I don't want you to point that out. If my tits are large, then that means yours are larger, and no self-respecting woman wants to go out with a guy whose tits are larger than hers (especially not if her tits are my size).
I wish I had kept his card, if for no other reason than to seriously deride him publicly here, and use the Single Woman Amber Alert System to warn my single sisters to run in the other direction should they come across this fine specimen of masculinity in a bar.
Friday, August 25, 2006
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