Dear Ember,
What’s the best pick-up line you’ve ever received? Do the good ones ever show up in your novels?
Signed, L
Dear L,
Pick-up lines, eh? Man, you’d think I’d have my very own black book of pick-up lines by this point. I’m almost 30, and I played the game hard for awhile, I won’t lie.
Yet I’m saddened–ashamed?–to admit I don’t have many pick-up lines to share. But, that doesn’t mean I don’t have any. In fact, I have two very specific tales that I’ll be delighted to share with you all today…and they both came from ONE spur-of-the-moment trip to Ft. Myers, FL.
My best girlfriends and I took a last-minute road trip from Ohio to Florida a few years back. My friend’s dad lives down there, and it was a combination birthday celebration AND Daddy-wants-to-buy-her-a-new-used-car trip. So we packed our bags, took rounds driving the car between the three of us, made a pit stop in Alabama for margaritas and tacos, and made it to FL a day later.
Fort Myers is strange, man. It’s gorgeous, for sure. But it’s also completely populated by people from Ohio and Michigan. I mean, seriously–almost everyone I asked came from “my area”. Maybe it had something to do with the beginning of Spring Break? We caught the beginning whiffs of the fabled holiday during our whirlwind visit, which I imagined as sort of the lull between regular life and the tidal wave of college kids. Even then, when I was in my mid-to-late-20’s, stumbling across 21-year-old’s was sort of like, God, you’re so YOUNG. This is awkward. Somebody call your RA.
Anyway.
TALE #1: I’m waiting in line for the bathroom at an outdoor bar. We’ve just had dinner and I downed my strawberry daiquiri a bit too fast. Urge to pee is outpacing the speed of the bathroom line, which is mixed gender. Normal-looking guy in front of me–30-something, probably an accountant, probably from Michigan. He side-eyes me for a bit as I hop from foot to foot, and finally turns to me.
“Hey. How tall are you?”
I squint at him. Could I have heard wrong? “Uh…5’8″.”
“No way!” He looks actually delighted. “I’m 5’8″ too!.” He pauses, grinning. “That’s the perfect height to make out.”
I laugh, the line moves, and he lets me go in the bathroom first to pee. There was no making out, but I appreciate the quirky attempt.
TALE #2: Later that same evening. Girls and I are back in the car, driving from one side of town to the other, caught on the bridge during a traffic jam. The truck in front of us is irritating my friend as she drives; it’s clearly a bunch of guys in a pick-up, trying to get our attention.
After we resolve to just ignore their hand-waving and constant neck-craning in our direction, we see a white sign emerge against the back window. The guys are gesturing to it, like Read this, come on, read it.
Without looking like I’m trying to read it, I try to read it. It’s hard to tell, with the constantly varying distance between the cars. Finally, though, we’re able to make it out.
TITS, PLEASE.
Oh, dear lord! We can’t stifle the laughter. No fucking way. The guys look pleased enough, and finally the traffic breaks and we zoom away from those dudes. No tits were shown, for the record. While crass, it counts as an innovative pickup line. ….Sorta.
BONUS ROUND: Later that same night, one of the guys from that truck saw us out at the bar! He called us over, introduced himself (“Yeah, I was the guy with the sign.” “No fucking way, SMALL WORLD, still no tits.”). So what do you think he did as a favor? HE WHIPPED OUT HIS PENIS. SOFT. IN A BAR FULL OF PEOPLE.
Like I said, folks. Fort Myers is weird.
To finish off the original question…NO. These pickup lines have never made it into my novels, nor do I think they should ever be repeated. But who knows…they might show up in one, someday!
