Cambridge 1987 (I think)
was the last time I asked someone out. The girl in question was eventually to become my wife and I'm still married to her.

The first time we met was at a student house party and the invitation had stated that it was "school uniform" (they were teachers). I didnt have any fancy dress knowledge and on the evening in question I started out in the college bar with a few pints of "Owd Rodger" to get started. The high percentage of alcohol and relative speed of imbibition got my evening well on track and I cycled off to the party at the other end of town.

I went via the off licence to pick up some vodka (easy to carry).

On arrival at the party, I was fairly merry and the girl who answered the door questioned my lack of "school uniform". I said that I was wearing boxer shorts underneath my jeans and would that do? That was accepted and I duly took my trousers off.

The evening progressed and I managed to insult and abuse a good number of the partygoers (I tended to do that, a bit like a "star turn"), and get progressively more pissed.

In the end I was sat on the floor with a girl who I had never met, spilling my life story and troubles. I eventually left the house at 6AM in the morning as I had to get to a film premiere in London (to report on it for a student mag with a mate of mine (now disappeared in Israel somewhere)). On leaving I asked if I could see her again and she agreed!

I went back 48hours later. I was sober and dressed.

I don't think she has ever really got over the "fallout" that occurred from the boxer shorts later in the evening.

Oh, I forgot to mention that she was the leading light of the Christian Union in her college and I was the biggest pisscan in my college. This caused much interest.

And for-the-record I am now no longer able to drink a great deal of alcohol, much like Billy Connolly once said "I had all my share at once".
(gearanach #wankwankwank, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 22:23, 1 reply)

I work 3rd shift in grocery,
and very lonely. A customer, who sometimes lingered to chat while I worked, revealed enough about herself for me to realize that she was what I was looking for. So, I said, "Madam, come to my house and I will put on Barber's Adagio for Strings and have my way with you."

She freaked out and I spent weeks certain that I would be deservedly dismissed for being nuts. Instead, she invited me out to coffee and later became spouse #2.
( tromboner cherophobia is my kind of fun, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 22:09, 3 replies)

wolverhampton.....
no.... not in wolverhampton, but wolverhampton is key to this story

a few years ago, recently fresh from a relationship, and rusty to fuck in the ways of "getting with the ladies" (something in which i've never been a master at the best of times), our hero (that's me by the way) finds himself dressed as a ghostbuster, standing in a hotel bar.

My friend turns to me and says "that girl just asked if i'm with you". i shrug, and somewhat bemused turn away to find myself faced with said girl.

Now, bearing in mind this was a birthday party for someone in their middle twenties, i wasn't really expecting to be hit with "you should come and talk to my friend", but i dug out the time honoured response "no, your friend should come and talk to me"... to which i am met with "if you were a gentleman and a scholar, you'd come and talk to my friend"... a short time later, having established that i am not of this category, and am in fact an alcoholic and a pervert, which would be considered acceptable, i am talking to her friend, who is dressed in Holly Golightly Hepburn style. Having resisted my usual discourse about Holly being a prostitute (i've read the book y'know!) and realised this girl is quite presentable, i'm met with the question "so, where do you think i'm from"..... now it's loud and i cant hear any real accent, so i shrug, pick a random town just outside Bristol and then let her correct me.

Wolverhampton


Wolver-Fucking-Hampton


the armpit of the world


i freeze dead.

i have nothing

eventually i manage to stammer out

"well that must be why you're here then"

she doesnt get it, and asks me what i mean

"well wolverhampton's shit....."

i made my excuses and hid behind my big mate until we moved on
(court escaper, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 21:53, 1 reply)

My condom expires tomorrow
so will you help me use it while it's still good?
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 21:41, 5 replies)

No amusing anecdotes sadly....
Just that I was re-reading my diaries that were kept throughout my secondary school years the other night, and they were truly tragic, and my yearning for a Scottish lad named Paul is total mush, why I didn't just ask him straight out I do not know. So going slightly (well ok, totally off topic.......)

The highlight of the diaries (circa 1994 to 1999) is possibly the week we went on school trip to Germany to see all the concentration camps (panning out quite well for unrequited love this story, isn't it?) when we all got pissed on cheap beer in the dorms and ran chasing each other with water pistols, pissing all the Germans off and ending in wild stories reaching us that our history teach had NOT gotten totally shit faced and was seen walking round the woods that overlooked the youth hostel, but in fact it was a touch of food poisoning.

Happy days.
(Pumba Look for the red flashing light again... no!!!!!, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 21:33, Reply)

On my bike!
Walking to work this time! On my way to work, I get stopped by a polite man on an old run down bike.

He stops me, looks me up and down, and tells me that I'm about the same size as his friend. Um, that's nice?
But that's not all, he had just bought this bike especially for her and wanted to know if she would be able to ride it. This old bike that looked like it had just been dragged out of the sea.

He asked me to get on his bike to see what the size was like. I'm so confused! Is that a chat up line? Did he really have a friend that he needed me to try his bike out on? Is bike a euphemism? Did he just want me on the bike so he could run away with my bag?

I'll never know, as naturally I declined. Any ideas?

Oh and a recent one which made for a large amount of awkward at work. My colleagues dad is a regular customer and he'll often come in and put his arm round your shoulder. Which I'm fine with, put your arm round my shoulders, whatever.
Anyway, he comes in and tells me he hasn't been well with his knee or somesuch other old man thing. I tell him that was a shame, I missed seeing you in here!

So he asks where his hug is and puts his arms out. Internally sighing I go to give him a quick "patpat" hug.
For an old man, he can move fucking fast. One hand has clamped itself on one of my tits, the other has wrapped around me like a creepy octopus. In my ear, I get,

"Do you like this do you? You're lovely, you are. My car's outside, when do you finish?"

This guy is 70 something and my colleagues DAD! On the cameras you see me pull away sharpish, my hands cross over my chest and my face is just shock itself. Horrible horrible old men. I don't touch anyone now and I manage to disappear sharpish-like when he comes in.

Woe is me :(

Oh and I pulled today whilst shopping too. A man (Arabian again*) didn't realise I had a face and walked into a pushchair while looking behind him. I laughed :)



*I got to say I've got nothing against most Arabians. Half my family are from Kuwait(through marriage) and they are great! They would get a royal good hiding if they so much as looked at a girl disrespectfully! It just seems to be that obviously some girls here are sleeping with enough of them that they must think we are all like that!

Ending on a positive note for once!

Best one I heard, and I think it backfired slightly, was this one.

Him: Hey..um... are you free tonight.. or, or do you charge?
Me: Are you calling me a prostitute?
Him: No! Oh god, um I meant are you free, as in not doing anything tonight, not as in money, and and and......
Me: *Roffling internally*

Bless the little cutie. I let him buy me a drink to make up for it, but unfortunately, my services weren't for offer that night :)
(becky_bubbles, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 20:44, 8 replies)

*pearoasts*
I will never forget the shy girl who was helping man a stall at the church Christmas fayre, when I was but a young slip of a Brownie Guide.

"I like your brother, I'm going to ask him out!" she whispered to me.

I was confused. The girl guide uniform betrayed that my brother was in fact, my sister with a severe pudding bowl haircut from mum. The poor girl guide fled and we were left to man the stall ourselves.
(Mrs Ballunatic counting calories, not votes., Fri 11 Dec 2009, 20:06, Reply)

All hail the Eighties
I was lucky enough to spend my teenage formative years in the 1980's. Spandau Ballet, Visage, Duran Duran, Depeche Mode and Soft Cell to name but a few were my musics of choice.

Falling into this musical sub-culture as you do, necessitates a certain uniform so as to fit in with all the other 'individuals'. However, many of my friends didn't share my flamboyant streak so on many occasions I would find myself in typical nightclubs and bars being the only guy wearing make up.

Also, my best mate was Sarah (R.I.P :( ) and we developed a two stage approach to helping each other. I would find the object of the night's affections and she would strike up a conversation with them (usually in the Ladies) checking for boyfriends, husbands, madness etc.) and then when I was sure I was in the clear, I used my best chat up line:



"Can I borrow your eyeliner?"


In return, when she saw someone she wanted, I went up to them and said:

My mate over there wants a shag. You up for it?

it worked for us.

And yes, I still miss her.
(MadBouncyDog Barking at the moon since, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 19:17, 1 reply)

just be nice
I worked in a pub in London for a few months, ten years ago, and a bunch of us went out for a late supper after closing, one night. We're all walking along the street, and I notice that everyone is coupled-up, arm-in-arm, except for two: myself and Louise, who was younger than me, and had extremely long corrugated* hair.

So, I offered her my arm, just to be nice, not trying to hit on her at all. That's all it takes, sometimes. 8)

* I don't know what you call that hot hair-buggering contraption - a hair-unstraightener?
( bnt what, me worry?, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 19:03, 3 replies)

Like flys on shit
I was once in a strip club for a stag do. Some cunt told a stripper that I was a professional footballer. These strippers got word to each other faster than nursery workers with camera phones.

Suddenly I was the golden chip on the esplanade, and the seagulls were shitting all over each other to get to me.

I enjoyed an insight into celebrity for a fleeting moment, and then it was just fucking annoying.

I've never tried it, but from that experience I'm guessing that the best chat up line to pull 90% of women is to pull out a bundle of 50's and slap them round the face with it.
(Corbo, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 18:15, 2 replies)

Phuct - The Bristol Bierkeller
More nightclubs than chatting up, as I don't remember what I said to seal the deal, but anyway:

I was a first year computer science student, metaller, with elbow-length hair. I'd been at university for a couple of months and the novelty of a new metal club hadn't worn down yet. Even though the mixing was terrible and they had a talent for making snakebites that made you want to hurl after half a pint.

I espy a tall blonde thing dancing with a few friends, and being somewhat the worse for wear I decided I could go over and talk to her. A few minutes later we're on one of the benches off to the side of the dancefloor "enjoying eachother's company". She turns out to be (or at least, claimed to be) a student nurse, from Oslo originally, and 22 years old.

Naturally, I was well chuffed.

After a little while we decide it's time for a drink, so head over to the bar to get more of the aforementioned snakebites (free shot with each pint). It is at this point that a bloke comes up to her that she obviously recognises, her boyfriend as it turns out. He looks me up and down, and comes out with this:

"Dream on, she wouldn't look twice at you"




I went off to wash my hands and spend the rest of the week chuckling to myself.
( Ungersven would support SpankyHanky's patreon, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 17:35, Reply)

An epic fail
I thought I'd posted this tale before, but it seems I hadn't.

I was chums with some art students, a long time ago. I got invited to their degree show - lots of great stuff, and free wine. Lots of free white wine.

On the train home I got chatting to the older sister of one of the students. We were getting on really well - so much in common that this was as near a done deal as I will probably ever get in my life.

We'd just exchanged phone numbers and I was about to say "Let's go and see 'Orpheus in the Underworld' at the ENO."

Instead, I turned to her and said: "Let's go and see HHHHUUUUUEEECCCCHHHHHHH....."

Poor girl. Head-to-toe coverage in white wine and part-digested cod and chips.

According to my chum, my next words were "I suppose this means you're not going to ring me?" I don't remember that, but I do remember the pitying looks from the bloke opposite me who witnessed the whole sorry story.

Twenty-plus years on I still feel the shame.
(uncle whippity, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 17:14, Reply)

Well,
after my second marriage ended horribly (I have no idea why - something about me not being the man she married or some other thing) I found myself single, with the only female company being my dog Molly. I decided that things must be done and started posting on a popular digital arts website. After all, the internet is full of ladies, and I am a stud who has won many medals for bravery and brilliance in the face of battle. I became very popular and requested ladies' presence on multiple occasions, but for some reason my efforts were unrewarded - even with the attractive pictures of myself I supplied by gaz! I decided to call it a day and continue planning my trip to the South Pole in a fighter jet powered by the blood of diabetes patients, but some pesky solider who OBVIOUSLY had a dislocated hand decided he wanted to prosecute me. How inconvenient.
Speaking of which, I didn't ask anyone out to be in my current relationship. It just happened, you know? I would like to keep all my teeth and Bubba can be very persuasive...

Regards,
Edmund
( Lampito rise with the moon, go to bed with the sun, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 17:12, 1 reply)

Fabric, Knickers & Boxers
In this day and age of equality of the sexes, I hate to say it but the ladies have a better deal when it comes to the common or garden chat up line. Your average lady only has to have one thing to pull: a pulse. And things that might work for the ladies don’t ever, I mean EVER, work the other way round.

I’ll give you the best example I’ve got:

One time in Fabric (fuck knows what I was doing in there, hardly my scene), I was off my tits on Malibu dancing like a man with syphilis in need of a piss who’d just been set on fire. All of a sudden this pretty girly I’d been chatting to earlier walks up to me and places something warm and moist in my hand, she smiles, walks off… I glance down and in the gloom, finding it hard to concentrate on what I’m looking at on account of the incredibly loud and shit dance music, I realize I’m holding something dainty, smooth, containing a few wiry pubes: it was her tiny knickers. After a quick reflex sniff I was salivating and more horny than a peado watching a Pampers commercial. The girl had pulled. It was fucking easy. Like taking candy from a baby.

A few weeks later in a different club, remembering this monumental night, I tried the same thing. After chatting to this random girl for fucking ages, I wandered off for a piss, had this bright idea, returned, placed my boxers in her hand – almost forcing her to take them, really. And was greeted with:

“What the fuck is this? “

“It’s my pants,” I replied, suddenly realizing this wasn’t a very good idea and perhaps, just perhaps, I shouldn’t have worn the same pair of grundies out clubbing that I’d had on for the previous two days.

“Your pants?”

No, really not a very good idea at all. “Ummm… yeah… well, errrr – do you, errr, ... .... ..... .... like ... ... ... .... them?”

She regarded me as if I’d just escaped from some asylum somewhere, then she screwed up her face and spat: “Do I like your fucking pants? I’m sorry, did I hear you right you fucking perv?”

“...I thought, you know, I thought it would be... errr... sorry. I'm so very, very, very sorry... Ummmm.... errr... could I have my pants back, please?”

Result? Fuck no. I received a swift knee in the knackers, a smack round the gob (those North London girls don’t take any shit, I can tell you), and the closest I got to any form of sexual congress that evening was when the burly, big, fuck ugly bouncer nearly rammed his cock up my arse as he held me squeezed tight in a bear hug that nearly broke my fucking ribs as he threw me out into the pissing rain.

Lesson learned: Don’t give random strangers your pants in the hope of getting laid (well, not unless you’re a woman or a man with something approaching what would be considered the required minimum level personal hygiene standards in polite society, at a push)…
( SpankyHanky, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:58, 8 replies)

High School Daze
A mate of mine, B we shall call him as that is the first initial of his name, was a bespeckled little git but gained respect for being possessed of awesome confidence. The first time we saw evidence of this was our final year.

One of the girls had organised a party at her place by the beach. There was a girl in our year who was a little older, she had had to repeat an early year of schooling having come over from Sweden. I'm a girly with no interest in the muff, but even I would say she was a stunner. Blonde and able to do that slow-mo hair-flicky thing that makes the boys dribble...

However most of the guys, including B, just dribbled from afar (after going home to wank furiously). She seemed so out of their league that none of them ever asked her out. It was rumoured that she had shagged some uni student, but no one knew for sure.

Anyway... Usual party stuff happening, illicit drinking and overcharged teenage hormones. All made riper than a camembert cheese by the knowledge that this was one of the last times we would see one another.

B, our spotty protagonist, after a night of subdued drinking seemed to draw courage from the bottle. He just walked straight up to our stunning blonde and said "Come. Let's go down to the sand. Let's do what we wanna do, let me be a man for you."

Result!
(russet_gusset up the reds, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:54, 2 replies)

At a house party I was introduced to my mate's gorgeous ex/girlfriend by my mate...
... he said - 'This is Hengus, he's Unstoppable!'

Despite displacing a disc in my lumbar region earlier in the day (Fucking painful, the large handfuls of painkillers went down nicely with a red stripe and skunk bongs combo) I managed to dance with her for an hour before I picked her up and took her to my room for a great little session...

Never in my life have I had to do so little and gained so much. We still talk today and she's a great friend and potential shag :0)
(hengushrh is found at the Dole office every second thursday, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:46, 1 reply)

Embarrassing
Where I used to work a male colleague asked me out (for clarity I am femail) We had worked together for about 4 years previously. Before actually asking me out. I had noticed that his behaviour towards me changed, he was periodically aggressive or overly suggestive and lecherous, other times normal. I came very close to reporting him to the management.

One day, he said he wanted to speak to me in one of the meeting rooms. My first instinct was NO, then I thought be brave and suggested the coffee shop (which was a cheap looking Costa effort on the ground floor of the office block we worked in) as it was covered by CCTV. He sat on one sofa I sat on another. He then held his and out, put his other hand over his eyes and cried. Blubbing the words I think you’re are very attractive. I said thank you very much and got up to leave. He griped my wrist and said ‘And’. All I could muster was Oh… do you want to err go out for a drink sometime. His reply was a vicious Yes.

Well, we did go out for a drink. To hide my embarrassment I suggested a pub I had never been to before, straight after work (hence no dinner) and proceeded to get disgustingly drunk and tried to be as much of an arse as possible while dodging his many limbs and the laying on of hands. It didn’t work – he wanted to see me again. I tried everything, I am busy, I am tired, I have no money, I don’t feel well, but carried on asking me, when I made an excuse he would then say this exact phrase quite loudly in the office ‘but when we did it before, you said you liked it.’

It stopped when I moved jobs.
(Free pens 100, 101, 102 is still counting on, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:29, 1 reply)

First Date Genius
All I knew about the posh girl from school is that she was posh, very proper, and liked Abba and that type of music.

So, on arrival at the cinema for our first date, I chose the disco-dancing film of champions "Boogie Nights".

Oops.
( SFG, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:28, 1 reply)

in the best lecter you can muster:
can i smell your cunt?

ah. must be your breath then.


you either receive a slap, or get a date. either way, you know pretty quick.
(magictorch, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:26, Reply)

I've always found (well by my experience anyway which is quite embarrasingly a lot!) that a chat-up 'line' has to be delivered in several parts.
Now I'm no model, but I'd say I've got plenty of knowledge so here's my take on this.

When Girls say it's not about looks they're lying! but you may look good to one and ugly to another, the point I'm trying to make is that you can't go steaming in with a chat-up line and expect it to work (unless you're a: female or b: very lucky/fit/funny c: they're pissed), you have to pick your target carefully, watch them for a few mins and see if you can pick up what they're talking about (hard in a club but you get the gist) see if anyone you know is talking to them, that gives you a really easy route in, unfortunately this is rarely the case so you have to play a different hand.

I've used many tacts of getting somewhere, but my most successful example is:

Bounce (not like Tigger, just in a non-threatening kind of way) past them and say 'hi', that's it, just 'hi' and then bugger off again, leave it for a bit and bounce past again, saying 'having a good night' (or similar) then go again, suddenly you're not the annoying chat-up twat, you're the bloke who's out having fun and are just being friendly, over the course of a few hours bouncing past every so often you'll almost be old friends... and that's when you don't bugger off. This has 'worked' on many *Cough occasions

Another good one which has also worked a treat is chat up the not as attractive friend, it's a very old one but believe me it does work, you can almost see the better looking one seething and you never know, you might find you're not so shallow after all and get somewhere with the one you started taking to.

I'd also like to say that the above 'worked' about 10yrs ago back in my slutty days so not sure if times have changed much, these days I find just looking uninterested seems to do the trick.





(Kip, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 16:15, 7 replies)

In a club one time
Was chatting to a girl I just met, when some guy just sat down the other side of her and said:
"So, are you not wearing any underwear or what?"

Classy.
(cH3$h7846J#7, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 15:51, Reply)

People...
...you don't have to 'ask them out' if you are paying for it or hanging out on youporn.
(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 15:36, 5 replies)

With a group of mates, and we had a chat-up line competition:
You think of the absolutely worst chat-up line you can, write it down and throw it into a hat, and the one who picks what the group judge to be the worst has to go and use it.

My mate got it, and I went along as Wingman/Moderator (obviously you weren't allowed to tell them it was a competition).

Girls have always gone for this guy, but honestly - he can be a right prick - but he went home with and shagged a stunner with

"Your dad was a thief, wasn't he?"

"What?"

"He stole all the stars and put them in your eyes".

Really - sometimes I wonder if my great grandma had properly thought it through when she became a sufferagette ...
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 15:28, Reply)

I've got this bed
from Ikea, wanna go back to mine and screw it together?
(Psymon_Spark Jesus Saves! The rest of you take 4d6 damage, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 15:19, Reply)

60% of the time it works everytime
Once you've found a nice young lady on her own simply approach and inform her that

A) Your an old friend of her dads.

B) Then tell her your a nice undercover policeman and her daddy has been in a bit of an accident and you have to take her to the hospital to make sure he can get all better

C) And that it's vital she doesn't scream or make any sudden movements or else daddy might die.

Trust me it works like a gem (mainly on the 3-6 age group)
(NuffMuff fucks shrubbery, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 15:04, 6 replies)

Vietnamese pandas
When I was backpacking in Vietnam in 2002, I decided to try and help out a friend who is even lower than me on the being-good-at-talking-to-girls-in-that-kind-of-way scale. In a bar in Hoi An he wistfully commented that the four Australian girls sitting round a table in the corner all looked really nice, but that he'd never have the balls to actually speak to any of them in a million years.

"Wait here", I replied, and strode over to their table. Now I have no problem with talking to anybody if the situation doesn't involve potential rejection, so by the time I'd reached them I'd come up with what I thought was a witty ice-breaker. "Excuse me", I started, "can I just ask you a quick question? Have you seen any pandas in Vietnam at all?". As they all replied No, with slightly puzzled expressions, I turned round to my friend at the bar (who after two weeks of hot sun and wraparound sunglasses had a distinctly two-tone face), ready to beckon him over to be introduced. All I saw was one of the saloon doors at the entrance flapping like mad. Suddenly conscious of my new status as the least confident person in the bar, I turned red, stammered something stupid and fled after him. I still wonder what they must have thought.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 15:00, 1 reply)

Wing girl

Asked a barmaid if she knew who the girl sat at the end of the bar was and if she was single, just a bit of prep before making an approach. She says, 'I dunno' then leans over and shouts across the entire bar '"Excuse me, this guy wants to know if you're single".

I died on the spot, surrounded by people pointing and laughing.

She found it hilarious though and I got a date.
( Regger, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 14:45, 4 replies)

Don't ask girls out when drunk.
I asked a girl out 3 times when we were both drunk. i remeber the night before (never forgoten a night out the day after) however she doesn't.

Finally asked her out when sober and she said yes, been going out just over a month now and it's great :)

However the date we actually started going out on is up for debate. I let her choose seeing as it's girls that seem to like that anniversary stuff. Just gotta hope were still going out when it comes round, otherwise her annoyance at me not knowing when it was (even though I do, she just can't remember so has a different date in her head) will have been a waste of time.
(wehttamman via B3ta for microwave, Fri 11 Dec 2009, 14:40, 5 replies)