Ah, Youth Club
I have to admit, I was cynical. I was 14, attending an all boys school. Girls were, as you might expect, a rare commodity. You had to have balls of steel* to go and hang out round the girl's school on the other side of town, so the only female contact we could expect outside of your mum and sister (doesn't count) or your mate's sister (possibly counts) or your mate's mum (probably counts) were those perfect visions of adolescent fantasy that were the '6th form girls'. Many a trek between classrooms was spent following them up the stairs, trying to get a sly look up their skirts, talking up what we would do to them if Bernard's Watch was real and we could stop time (apparently this does not constitute rape if after the normal flow of time resumes, you properly extricate your member and associated sploogings, and leave her only with a vague sense of visitation)

So when my friend asked me to go along with him to the local Methodist Youth Club, I swallowed my pride as an atheist, accepted that should I ever admit this trasngression, I would be jeered at school for going to a youth club (gay, apparently), and did it for the girls. And my God, Hallelujah, I was like a child in a sweet shop, I literally DIDN'T KNOW WHERE TO START. I ran around like Cassanova on speed, chatting up girls all over that Methodist Church, releasing all my pent up desires to speak to that elusive, fairer sex.

I swear, given my levels of youthful ineptitude, unbalanced hormones and repressed urges, I would have happily asked any of them out. Towards the end of the night though, I caught a glimpse of blonde hair (the only blonde I had seen) through the glass pane in a door and I took a young man's gamble. Having only seen this girl from behind (she looked slim and tall) I walked up to her, tapped her on the shoulder and asked her out, with a brash confidence that belied my teenage nerves. As she turned, I could see I hadn't made an appalling mistake, she was pretty! (jackpot). She said no of course, she had no idea who the hell I was. But I got her phone number, and successfully negotiated a 'date' later that week (which I really only did because I didn't want my first foray into the world of women to be a failure, I realised pretty quickly that I had no interest in her whatsoever and returned to manically asking out anything that moved)

*Self esteem/confidence
( SigmaX0 Dear Die Hard. You rock!, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 9:48, Reply)

Working Class Man
Being all class as I am, I was having a quiet drink in a bar that just oozed class.

Jimmy Barnes was thumping from the juke box that only had three songs, and 2 of them where Jimmy Barnes (the other was Cold Chisel).
When she approached me I thought she must be lost or maybe even an Angel that escaped from heaven.

After a few moments of small talk about the quality of the music and failing to have any other polite conversation, I enquired if she lived in the local vicinity of the said classy bar.

She gave me a bit of a sideways look, and for a second I could hear the gears of her mind crunching as she processed my question, then from the lips of the siren of Perith came the greatest ever pick up line,

“You can walk but, I’m on me rag, you’ll have to do me in the shitter”

Length, not as long as my nose!
(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 8:23, 2 replies)

I find talking to women
Probably the hardest thing to do.

Thing is im Irish, and having an accent like mine is worth Its weight in gold.
Most women love it. *(most)

To summarise, if you want women... be Irish, or failing that fake a Plausable accent then lose it after you've bumped uglies.
(Margatemug, Mon 14 Dec 2009, 1:56, 2 replies)

My girlfriend
and I didn't actually being our relationship in the most conventional way, in that there was a prolonged period of casual, rather naughty, friendship beforehand (whoever says those things end in tears huh?).

The actual story of us properly going out is rather sweet, but rather long and I'll refrain from typing up. The story of how we first kissed, however, is slightly easier. We'd been chatting for a while, having known each other in passing through mutual friends for some years. She'd come over to my room at Uni, we'd had mulled wine, watched a film, chatted, and as I talked more and more, I couldn't quite think of that right moment to initiate a little more bodily contact, get that little bit closer. Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was the nerves.

With a serious case of flirt's block, trying the slow and steady organic approach seemed less and less likely, so, with all the grace and candour of a drunken University student, I said out loud, mid conversation "Fuck it" and kissed her.

We've been going out for more than six months now, despite her living in a foreign country...
(LickOutTheJamsMotherfuckers!, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 23:55, Reply)

Used to go to college with this appallingly arrogant lad.
He'd been to private school till his parents ran out of money, and lorded it up over the rest of us while maintaining an air of smug self-righteousness like the worst kind of Guardianista.
He had designs on a lass in our year, and planned his devious route to seduction for weeks beforehand. I've no idea what on earth he said to her, but she became a lesbian shortly afterwards - if that's not an embarrassing failure, I really don't know what is.

Last I heard, he applied to medical school. If he passed, I can only hope his practical skills outrank his social graces, or else his would-be patients are in very, very serious trouble.
( The Mock TurtIe ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 23:41, Reply)

Ohh, and, one of mine!
After spending a night drunkenly dancing with a friend who happens to be a lesbian, and one of her friends, I decided to try my luck and cheekily said

"right, I'm going to go grab a taxi unless one of you wants to take me home?"

and to my surprise, I received the reply. "OK then, come with me"

I wish I could say that had ended in a two girl threesome, but it did get me taken home by my friend's friend. Who was a pretty awesome shag.

I keep meaning to try it again, see if I've actually found the perfect pick-up line, but I haven't found myself in the right situation.
( The Flaming Ibanez Awww, c'mon, Japanese girls do it!, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 23:23, 5 replies)

Not one of mine, but used on me.
WAAAAY back, when I was 14, and desperate to loose my virginity, I met through friends a girl who we shall call "Bush Girl" for reasons which will become clear.

I was 14, she was 16, and we'd arranged to meet up at the college (as it was half way between our houses). This was the middle of the summer holidays and no one was around (apart from a cricket team on the other side of the field), we chatted about the possibility of me taking her to a gig that weekend, and partook in some overenthusiastic tongue wrestling. THAT was when I received THE CHEESIEST (yet somehow irresistible) chat up line ever:

She stopped kissing me for a moment and said;

"When I said I wanted you to take me... I wasn't just talking about the gig"

And there and then, I lost my virginity, in (under) a bush, on the college field.

The relationship which followed lasted all of a week, but hey, ya gotta start somewhere.

Apologies for length, girth, blah blah blah.
( The Flaming Ibanez Awww, c'mon, Japanese girls do it!, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 23:14, 2 replies)

Quick roast about Emma.....
I was quiet when I was young. Not shy, but just didn't see the point of saying anything if I didn't have anything worthwhile to say. This is a terrible problem when trying to chat up girls, especially when attempting to talk to Emma for the first time. She had long, blond hair, big blue eyes and a fantastic body (even though we were both about 10 years old, she still had a perfect figure). So we devised a plan, 'we' being myself, Greg, Steve and Brian: I'd phone her up and ask her if she'd like to go and watch a film with me. The four of us set up an amazingly elaborate script which covered all eventualities; every conceivable twist in the conversation was covered - no matter what Emma said, we were confident we'd have a pre-prepared answer. The time came to make the call. I had the several sheets of A4, Greg, Steve and Brian were listening on the extension so that they could hear how things went and could point to the relevant part of the script if I lost control of things, and the most nerve-wracking call of my life began.....

Me: Hi Emma
Emma: Hi Jerry. How're you
Me: Fine thanks. Just wondered if you'd like to go see a film on Friday
Emma: Sure. Shall I come over to your place for about seven o'clock?
Me: That sounds good. See you on Friday.
Emma: Bye


I'm so astounded at how easy it all was that I'm stunned into silence. A silence which is filled by Greg, et al yelling things down the extension like, "You've nailed her", "You're gonna have your hands inside her knickers within a minute" and "She's gonna be sucking you like a whore" together with other unsavoury comments.

Emma: I'm still here you know. I'm never going to speak to you ever again.

And she didn't.
( Fr_Jerry_McGwier looked over both shoulders at, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 22:46, Reply)

Repost
Not my story, but Mr. Dub's:

He went to a party in the aptly named "Joint House" and was hanging out in the kitchen. While he was drunkenly holding forth , he spied a tall, wide blonde come in to get a drink. He motioned her over and out of curiosity, she walked over to see what this yahoo wanted. After a little chat up, he dropped his ever successful line, "Hey do ya wanna go out sometime?"

She was puzzled (having no self-esteem whatsoever) and asked, "Why would you want to go out with me?"

He leered said, "Why, because you are so HUGE!" making monster-truck motions with his hands.


We have been married 23 years.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 22:41, 1 reply)

how not to ask someone out
im not stunningly beautiful but im not horribly disfigured either so i occasionally get asked out at work by random drunks, weird people, geeky students and lonely old men. this is easily dealt with. smile, polite excuse. both parties move on. you go to the glass washer and they probably move onto their next victim. done.

there was one guy who became a regular. at first he came in with a couple of friends and i think they stood at the bar so me and whoever was on chatted politely. then they left. a normal night. was probably the same conversation i have with every single non-student person who comes to the bar. whats your name? are you a student? what year are you in? what do you study? ah, i know something about that subject but actually i dont because iv never studied it in my life. allow me to bore you for an hour and half about how this eminent theorist - who i cant pronounce the name of - is wrong. where you from? iv been there. are you a farmer? hahahahahha. i have had it so many times i have had to resist the temptation to lie and tell people i do astrophysics like some of the other bar staff so they wont try to talk about it.

back to the guy. probably about fifty, maybe sixty. a bit creepy. bald as a coot. demon headmaster glasses and eyes. intense. the first time he came in, he asked me for lunch. smile, polite excuse, sorry. bye!

or so i thought. tbh, i did not actually think very much about him coming in by himself and standing by the bar for two hours then going. there a lot of people who come in just to chat but he always came in on a busy night so there was no possibility of him getting near the bar.

then my boss tells me that he came in and tried to find out exactly when i was working. he'd asked me before when i worked which some people do. i dont have fixed hours, like id tell him if i did, so i told him that. that was a bit creepy but oh well. i didnt think that much about it and she wasnt allowed to tell people when i was working. she thought it was hilarious.

then he comes in and stands at the bar. luckily, there are two other rowdy drunk students at the other side of the bar also trying to talk to me. excellent! i escape the boring conversation. not that they are up to much. one of them has slumped onto the bar. the other is trying to persuade us to go out to a club. no ta. mr creepy keeps trying to get my attention and i talk to him politely but i got up early, iv been doing an assessment all day and frankly, i cant be bothered. he tells me that i shouldnt talk to the two boys because they are drunk and apparently, they are treating me with disrespect. thanks

then the two boys go off to play the quiz machine. i am left with this guy who starts berating me. why exactly am i being like this? am i always like this? wtf is he talking about? apparently, i know exactly what he's talking about.

then he tells me he's been trying to talk to me for weeks but im always so busy at the bar... all those times he'd been standing there, he'd been waiting for me. he just wants to know if i'll go for lunch sometime. he wants to get to know me. so i tell him im very flattered but i have a boyfriend so it would be very unfair. this should mean he'll go away... but no. hes spent too much time trying to get to talk to me to give up now. he asks me about my boyfriend. whats he like? what are his bad points? does he treat me ok? i am getting a bit pissed off and freaked out now so i dont answer his questions. so he asks me out for lunch again. no! so he sat at the bar for about half an hour alternating between 'but i think you're lovely' and 'but PLEASE'. i went around glass collecting as many times as possible which was grabbing at straws because the only people in the pub were completely in view from the bar and did not have any empty glasses.

so i did the manly thing and told him to stop asking. then when he didnt, i hid in the cellar.
(ladyintheradiator, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 21:45, Reply)

when i was around 17 or so
i pulled a girl in a rubbish club called The Warehouse in Glasgow. Her name was Dawn. Looker too. I remember that much. Quirkily she even had the same birthday as me - how we laughed! I remember that well.

What i can't remember is what i said to her that charmed her so well.

And it must have been good. Bloody good. I remember breaking away from Deep Snog - that jaw aching esophageal snog that only teenagers practice. I had to, otherwise it would have been her tonsils rather than her shoulder that copped the sudden vomit.

I remember being even more surprised returning from the toilets to find her still sitting there. God knows how she got the vomit off. Amazingly she was happy to continue snogging me with my beer/vomit breath.

But I still cant for the life of me remember how i chatted her up.

Must have been bloody good though.
(omnishambles ™ has been fucking things up big style since, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 20:48, 1 reply)

Drinks?
"Bet you can't remember how to spell "Rohypnol" after drinking this"

(Sorry, that really is in bad taste!)
( The Lone Groover has mal des nuts., Sun 13 Dec 2009, 20:26, 2 replies)

May I shit in your cunt?

(anvil, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 20:16, 4 replies)

*Copy and paste from somewhere else*
Poo story in replies.
( G/PP 💩💩💩💩💩&#128, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 19:02, 6 replies)

I have now put 'asking someone out' on my list of things to do before I die.
Along with bunji jumping and walking on hot coals.
( girlinthehole, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 18:54, 5 replies)

Hrm
Well, first time I asked a girl out was pretty much total heartbreak to be honest. I was 15, so I think that excuses the listening to most of Siamese Dreams on repeat, drinking crap cider and crying to my mates for the about a month after it happened. Being 15 excuses a lot of things.

Anyway, I was at school, as most 15 year olds are. I asked her out, had been fancying her for months, we'd got to be mates blah blah blah and she said yes! I was unbeleivably happy. Told my best mate about it and she was amazingly happy for me. Anyway, turns out she'd gone up to this girl and congratulated her "oh, i'm so happy for you two!" and all that. Unfortunately, the girl in question had thought that I'd asked her out as a mate, and she told me, in front of everyone in my year (all of whom knew by now - it was a small school) about the mistake and how she didn't think of me in that way. Crushing humiliation and heartbreak in one lovely package, oh well, I was on top of the world for a few hours at least.

Anyway, I'm genuinely not being emo, or mopey or feeling sorry for myself but it is strange how these things in your childhood influence you. I've never asked a girl out since sober, and most of my relationships have been as a result of slowly drifting into a relationship via the usual means of drunken sex and wondering whether we should be a couple. Sometimes I wonder how much of a different person I'd be if I'd not asked her out, or she'd actualy fancied me?

Strange things relationships. Oh, and that reminds me, know that cheesy chatup line, "you must be tired because you've been running through my mind all day" is it just me or does that not realy make you sound like a scary masked rapist? It's the running part I think. As in the other person is running, kind of makes you wonder what from. Creepy.
(Fredz A graveyard of hopes, a dump of ambition, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 18:24, 1 reply)

barryfromeastenders
WELL DID YOU ASK HER OUT THEN???
(norfolkngood, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 18:01, 5 replies)

Fun at work
Me: "Please don't look at my breasts when you are talking to me." *
Him: "I can't help it, you have great boobs."
Me: "I think you are being a bit forward."
Him: "I'M A 28 YEAR OLD VIRGIN, OF COURSE I'M BEING A BIT FORWARD. I'M SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED."
Me: "..."
Him: "Will you go out with me?"
Me: "No."


* "stop eye raping my tits you fucking pervert"
(reducedfatLOLcat, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 17:52, 4 replies)

handcuffs
I'm awful at chatting up men, i go red, get totally tongue tied or talk absolute bollocks. My friend decided we should go to Falaraki so i could finally chat up some blokes without worrying about seeing them again.

First night out, a bloke walks up to my friend.
"my mate fancies your mate" (bloke is at least 23)
My friend " i have a pair of handcuffs.....lets get them together"

Me and random man+handcuffs= free drinks but stuck together with me and my awkward conversation and blustering

Spent the night trying to find keys, friends had run off, me and him stuck together for 6 hours getting pissed, but it was a miracle...i didn't talk shit! Said bloke had a terrible stutter and said he was happy for me to talk and he just wanted to listen! such a lovely bloke who was also as terrible as me for chatting people up.

Finally found said keys, said our goodbyes and i thought that was it.

Next day he turned up again, while i was dressed as aschool girl (another awkward point) We got talking again.

2 weeks passed, came home to England, had text off bloke. Did i want to meet up

Now engaged to be married, been together 6 and half years and live together. Awful way of meeting and chatting up someone, while handcuffed together, but it did work!
( squiddylyd Once you pop you can't stop!, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 17:36, 2 replies)

Laughter..
Im shit with women...until I discovered the secret formula:

1: Get them a *little* bit pissed.

2: Take them to a comedy evening. A good one.

As long as shes been laughing like a drain at said evening, youre in. simple as that.

Has worked *every* time
(CantSleepClownsWillGetMe Likes: Turtles, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 17:17, 5 replies)

i've
never asked a guy out in my life. instead i still have a 12 year old's cringing fear of my crushes being discovered. which the current object of my office affections probably just has after months of careful secrecy on my part, given that it was the christmas party on friday night* and it would be quicker to count the people i didn't confide all my secrets to after about 15 vodkas on the rocks. i am dreading monday!

but i have had my fair share of horrendous come-ons. most recently, facebook has a nice line in sleazy men trying to add me - mmm, always particularly tempting when their english is remedial and their relationship status box says "in an open relationship". but the worst was a posh party i went to down at a tennis club in west london a few weeks ago. i had come straight from work, so was pretty conservatively dressed, just black trousers and a very demure pink top that showed about an inch of cleavage, maximum. unfortunately it was clearly an inch too far. i went to the bar to buy a round, and a cliche of a wankerbanker (you know the look, bloodshot crossed eyes, blue shirt with white cuffs, floppy hair) who was leaning on it turned to look at me. i politely ignored his beer breath, which smelled like a corpse rotting in a brewery, and smiled back at his vacant leering. then he said loudly:

"i have to tell you." (no, no you don't have to tell me anything, i thought) "you have got the most beautiful eyes..... and the MOST ENORMOUS TITS i have ever seen."

this charming and flattering line worked so well that a few minutes later he was getting his cock expertly sucked in my overwhelming gratitude for the compliment. or the exact opposite, in fact.

* the latest in this depressing saga being that about 15 people asked me or various colleagues if we were a couple and what was going on between us on fri night (admittedly there was much flirting). tragically it's a very easy question to answer, given that we were the last 2 in the bar and then walked back to the office at 2.30am only for him then to tell me he got back with his ex a few weeks ago!! we were also discussing the car loan, and he actually told me that his girlfriend asked if they could fuck in it and that he had been horrified by the suggestion that he would be so rude as to do that in my car. why would he tell me that? why? why, b3ta, why?! verbally incontinent fuckwit! i really don't understand how there can be so much chemistry that complete third party strangers can see it, but the loser bloke on the other side to me in the equation cannot. /bitter blog
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 16:48, 6 replies)

Can I smell your fanny?
Eons ago, my mate Stu and I used to run a DJ, pub quiz, karaoke, entertainment type outfit. Just part time but we made enough to pay off the gear in a few months and even cleared enough to hire people to do the gigs we couldn't be bothered doing. The best gigs we did though were quizzes in big pubs that we hosted together ... have a laugh on stage and get paid enough to have a night out afterwards and a taxi back in the morning for the gear.

One night we had a bonus round, whereby teams had to write down the worst chat up line they could think of, and the winning team would get to see one of us use it later on in a club, on a girl of their choice. (We'd had a few and it seemed like a good idea ... )

The winner by a mile was,

"Can I smell your fanny?"

"No!"

"Oh, it must be your feet."

So half an hour later we're in the said club, across the road from the pub where we'd had the quiz. Most of the people from the quiz are in and we've formed an unusal gathering by the toilets as Stu and I toss a coin to see who's going to get slapped. He won! So he sighs, pulls up his belt a bit and wanders over to the lass the winning team have chosen.

We can't hear anything above the music, but her face was enough ... curiosity ... shock ... anger ... then ... then ... a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth ... then a big grin ... then huge laughter.

She calls her pals over who laugh too, then we see Stu obviously explaining what made him do it ... she looks over at our big group, sticks her tongue out then grabs Stu and sticks her tougue in his mouth. We Cheer. A few months later, they got engaged.
( Cheeses of Nazareth Where's Captain Kirk? www.whereiskirk.com, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 16:32, 2 replies)

I am utterly shit at asking folk out.
I've got no qualms with talking to the laydeez, and it turns out, I'm fairly charming for someone who has a face resembling a welly boot thats been left next to the fire for too long.

Over my not-so-illustrious career with the fairer sex, most of my relationships have just been fallen into. Back at school, word would get to me on the grapevine of such and such fancying me, giggle, so I'd send word back through a reliable source that it was reciprocated and so it would happen.

In 22 years I think I've only asked the question "Will you go out with me?" maybe twice. Mostly because I dont really like the phrase and think its interminably cheesey. Proper high school stuff.

That being said, the last time I said those words to a girl was a little over 15 months ago, on my 21st birthday and the response was positive. I'm still with the glorious Queen Emma, and if I'm lucky, I'll be with her for a long time to come.

Disclaimer: for charming, read: lucky.
(King of Swandanavia Proud owner of the worlds first Flong, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 15:43, Reply)

All my house mates are girls.
I had been having on off sex with one of them for a while, and she had asked me never to sleep with the other house mate. Anyway fast forward a couple of months and the house mate I had been having occasional sex with is soon going to be heading off to less sunny clims. I'm out drinking with the other house mate, and say 'After H has left we can have sex.' She replied with 'I'm never going to sleep with you Eden.'

Next weekend H has left, I'm out drinking with the same girl, I said to her 'So K, when can I lick your red haired pussy.' It turned out the answer was about an hour later.

Most satisfying told you so I've ever had the pleasure of delivering.
( The Awful Puppy Bakery is still bored, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 15:31, 12 replies)

I'm useless...
27 years old, and I've been single for nearly 11 and a half years.
..
:o(
(Code of Post lives at the moment in time that is..., Sun 13 Dec 2009, 15:03, 5 replies)

Met the current Mr Quar on t'internet
and got talking, as you do...

One day I foolishly gave him my home phone number, which he rang to ask me to meet him.

The THEN Mr Quar answered it, as I sat across the room, cringing in embarrassment, for neither knew about the other. Oops.

That one took a bit of talking my way out of.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Sun 13 Dec 2009, 15:03, 5 replies)