Bad Pick-Up Lines

Last weekend, my family and I trekked to the Maryland Renaissance Faire. After the long drive, we arrived, parked, and spilled out of the car. My son, Venger Jr., looked decidedly glum. I chided him with comments about it not being the end of the world to spend the day with his parents at the Faire to which he responded that he was not depressed but that he didn’t feel well, having a sore throat for two days. Great. Now he tells me, after a two hour car ride. There wasn’t much I could do about it at that point.

Stuck for the day with a somewhat under-the-weather son whose body we really didn’t want to overtax, we chose a theatre with a great lineup of shows (three of which were Shakespeare’s Skum performances) so he could enjoy himself while resting rather than wear himself down walking around all day. He laughed a lot--we all did-- so apparently we had made a good choice.

The weather was supposed to be nicer in Maryland than it actually was, which was partly why we chose the Maryland Faire rather than the Pennsylvania one. Dressed in jeans and a short sleeve shirt, I was decidedly glad I had brought a jacket as well. As easily as I become cold, I really needed it. It still was not quite enough.

Once we had determined that we had received our money’s worth and that the kids’ attention was flagging, we decided to leave. I decided to visit the privy before exiting the park-- not that I wanted to, mind you, but a two hour drive with no pit stop seemed an impossibility. The “fam” walked on ahead.

I stood in line, dreading the ordeal that awaited me. Apparently, I looked chilly since an attractive man behind me commented, “You can’t possibly be cold.”

“Oh, yes I can,” I replied. He was just trying to make conversation, so I didn’t think much more about it and was happy enough to banter while awaiting my appointment with doom.)

He: “What-- are you from Arizona?”

I: “No, but perhaps I should be.”

He: “How can you be cold?”

I: “Um, well, there’s really not much to me. I’m often cold.”

He: “You need to bask in the warmth of a sexy man.”


I kid you not. That’s what he said. Knee jerk reaction would have been to reply, “And where, pray tell, would I find one of those?” But not practiced in meanness, I stifled the urge. Besides, it was amusing. Normally, at such a point in a conversation, I make mention of my wonderful husband just to let the guy know that I am happily attached. It just wasn’t worth it and would have taken more energy than I cared to expend. Instead, I turned back around and actually hoped that a privy door would open very soon as I was next in line. Imagine-- actually hoping for such a fate. Privies are utterly disgusting near the end of the day.

Afterwards, I found my family and laughingly told Mr. Venger of my encounter. “Honey, Honey, guess what…” He shook his head and sighed, “Yep. It’s time to go.”

Vengerette, catching part of the conversation, demanded to know what I said so I repeated myself. She shook her head and shuddered since her mom is, well, her mom.

Venger Jr., off in his own world, had by now noticed we were giggling about something. He had caught enough of the gist, apparently. He looked at me and said hesitatingly, “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“Probably not, sweetie,” I told him. He just shook his head.

Now, why am I telling you this tale, gentle reader? Because this was, in my opinion, a bad pickup line from which we can all learn.

Maybe it’s just me, but men who know, or think they know, that they are “sexy” just aren’t to me. Guys who don’t know how attractive they are or at least don’t think much about it were always far more interesting to me than those who believed they were God’s gift to women, even back in middle school.

Furthermore, his comment said far more about what he thought about himself than about any charms I might possess. I guess he thought a woman should feel honored that he favored her with his attention? I’m just not sure. But a more effective tactic, should I have been in the “market”, probably would have been to involve me in a conversation about the Faire this year or some such thing that demonstrated his interest in my thoughts and who I am as a person. Of course, I have never inhabited bars so maybe lines like that are typical and effective and I just don’t know squat. But then again, I have always been a little different.

I would love to hear from you. Was this a mediocre pickup line or not? What bad lines have you heard? Which ones actually got your attention?