Sad Fall Of The Pick-Up Line
What is going on with romantic discourse in our society today?
Recently I was walking through New York's Port Authority bus terminal when a very attractive young woman appeared in the distance walking toward me. As she approached, a young man in front of me saw her and shouted, "yo, yo, yo, hold up, lemme holla at chuh girl, lemme holla at chuh girl. Just one sec, you fine, lemme holla at chuh, girl."
I was at once amazed and disgusted at his behavior, but not nearly as amazed as I was with the woman's reaction. She actually smiled and stopped. Apparently she was in the mood to be "holla'd" at by a very brash and grammatically challenged stranger.
I walked on, figuring I had just witnessed that one-in-a-thousand chance when pure desperation comes off as endearing, or maybe she was hearing impaired and thought his lemming had been hauled to Chu's Grill.
Then I caught the recent two-hour episode of ABC's "Grey's Anatomy" spinoff featuring an unlikely Amy Brenneman career revival. Dr. Addison Sheppard escapes dreary Seattle (and a string of staid plot lines that lay out like a game of sexual connect the dots) only to find herself in a midlife crisis in a stairwell with a doctor she just met who says, "I'm going to kiss you ... with tongue." And he does. And she likes it.
I used to spend a lot of time thinking of just the right words to say to get a kiss from a woman, and the results were mixed at best. But I never would've resorted to "I'm going to kiss you with tongue." If that line works, and hollering to women about wanting to holler more to them works, then what doesn't work these days? What does it take to break the deal? I have some suggestions. Feel free to use the lines below and please share the results with the rest of us:
Like I said, I'm out of practice. For all I know some of those lines might get that someone special in the mood for love. Then again, they could also get you out of a really horrible date.
Mike Wuebben has written several non-published works, including angry e-mails to former girlfriends and at least three book reports on the Judy Blume classic, "Tales of a Fourth-Grade Nothing." Prior to that, he couldn't read or write.
If you really want to talk, send Mike an e-mail. If it's urgent, buy an industrial-size spotlight with a W stencil and shine it into the night sky. Mike looks up regularly to check his messages.