I’ve only been drinking alcohol for about a year and a half. (It’s my favorite thing to tell that to people and watch their jaw drop in shock and awe. From those who know me, they’re shocked because I drink “like a pro.” For those who don’t know me, are in awe that I lived so many years without alcohol).
Oh, I’ve tried it when I was younger. A sip here and there, mostly at my parents’ parties, where a glass of champagne or wine would be handed to me. I never liked the taste and then in my twenties, I pretty much stood in judgment of people who did drink. Then on New Year’s Eve 2011, I looked at my best friend and said, “I think this is the year, I’m gonna start drinking.” She laughed, handed me a glass of champagne and we toasted the new year. A month later, I did just that. In Vegas. And discovered that I liked it. (Ooooo, I can already feel the tsk-tsking of judgment from people…)
Like any good Asian (of which I am not, but I still have the Asian values instilled in me), I overachieved. I did some (ahem) market research learned through trial and error, on how to drink. It sounds weird, but it’s true. I’ve learned my limit and when I should stop (not that I always do at that point) and practiced a lot. (I sometimes feel like an 18-year-old stuck in a 34-year-old’s body — . But that’s another episode of Oprah)
(I know you’re all waiting for the pickup line but hang in there with me. This is relevant…sort of).
So, in recent months, I’ve not only discovered alcohol, but I’ve also discovered confidence and together that is kind of a potent combination. In fact, alcohol + confidence = way more confidence (or way more stupidity. It’s all in how you look at it).
This pickup line has worked for me three times in the past few months. (For someone who has pretty much ZERO experience in the dating world, three times is a lot. trust me).
The three key ingredients to a good pickup line:
3. Pointer finger
The One Who Was the Souvenir: It was Memorial Day weekend in Phoenix and already the temperature was climbing at 11 am. The atmosphere at the hotel pool was jovial. The smell of suntan oil mixed with cigarettes and chlorine wafted through the air, as sounds of laughter, music, and splashing surrounded the merrymakers. We were there to celebrate the birthday of one of my best friends (who by the way will be making a guest blog appearance sometime in the near future) and all-day rounds of drinks were being poured and handed out. The only time my hands found itself without a drink was went I was reapplying the sunblock. So around 3 or so, with the potent combination of the sun and alcohol, I found myself a wee bit intoxicated, laughing with my friends and chatting about what I am sure was quite important at the time. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a fairly attractive guy. I smiled and did my best to get his attention, like totally nonchalantly getting out of the pool right next to him like 5 times. (What?! Sunblock needs reapplying every 3 minutes especially when you’re in the water. Duh. Everyone knows that). Finally, I did what any self-respecting woman would do, I grabbed my friend and said, “I need a wingman Help a girl out,” drowned the current drink in my hand and walked as gracefully as possible back toward the pool. Before my wingman could open her mouth to say anything, I pointed straight at the attractive man and said, “You’re pretty. Can I take you home as a souvenir?” And what do you know? It worked.
As I said, I’m three for three with that that combo and variations of that line…oh and it works when you’re not in the pool as well. You’re welcome 😉