I Got Picked Up By A Girl Using The Worst Pick Up Line Ever


I watched the hot guy walk toward me in what seemed like slow motion — although it could’ve been a side effect of the shot of tequila I’d just taken that everything looked like it was underwater. I could see him clearly, though. He had dark hair that fell into his bright blue eyes, and his smile was sly and sexy. He finally made it to where I was sitting on a stool at the bar. He opened his mouth. I released my drink so I could prepare myself to unzip his pants at a moment’s notice.

“So… did it hurt?”
No. Nooooo.

I’d love to say that wasn’t the line he went with, but it was. It wasn’t even original. I would have been willing to have clothed-dance-floor sex with him had he hit me with a line I’d never heard before. But sadly for him, that’s not the way it worked out. By the time he finished the line, I was already walking away.

I’ve been hit with a nice variation of some of the worst pick-up lines known to man, and to woman—guys aren’t the only sex who sometimes have a hard time knowing how to pick up on me. I know that it can be hard to just start up a conversation with a stranger, but I promise you it’s better to be cute and awkward for a couple seconds than it is to ask her if she has a mirror in her pocket. I’ve seen some of the most beautiful people in the world walk up to me and start telling me a joke about a turtle and a nun and I’m already moving on by the time they’ve got that first sentence out, no matter how attractive they might be.

However, there is an exception to every rule—in this case, a major exception for reasons still mostly unknown.

My current girlfriend picked me up at a bar one night with the worst pick-up line of all time. And it worked. It worked so hard, and I have No. Clue. Why.

It was a few nights after our first tumultuous meeting, and we’d been sporadically texting/sexy Snapchatting, but we hadn’t seen each other in public yet. Nothing had been set in stone. We’d been flirting a little, we’d had a drunk make out session, but that didn’t mean much. She could’ve been bringing a date to the bar, and I’d have no idea.

She didn’t bring a date. She showed up with a friend of mine, and they headed toward us when they came into the bar. I did a quick scan. She was still hot like I remembered, but so was the girl the other night who tried to pick me up with a “brunette and a blonde walk into a bar” line. No guarantees.

She walked toward me, tripping on the way, and then slipping on spilled beer. Not graceful. I just raised my eyebrows until she got to me. She was grinning infectiously, but she opened her mouth and I knew it was going to happen. I braced myself so I could, at least, try not to cringe.

“You come here often?”
My. God.

I didn’t roll my eyes, and I didn’t cringe. I almost ripped my own panties off and threw them over the bar.

Why was this working?

My knees literally melted into jelly. I was about to come somewhere, that much was certain. I didn’t even answer, just leapt at her from the bar stool. We spent the rest of the night drunkenly groping each other on the crowded dance floor, and it was awesome. But why did this line, this terrible line, work where so many others had failed? She was gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but so were a lot of others with better lines. Maybe it was the way I watched her down a Long Island Iced Tea in about six seconds flat or the way every single person in the bar seemed to know who she was.

To this day, I don’t know. I really wish I did. Maybe I’m the only girl in the world who’s fallen for a line this bad. I hope I’m not alone, but who knows? The jury is out on that one. But I do know that if falling for the worst pick-up line in the world is wrong, I definitely don’t wanna be right.

Image via Shutterstock

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Shannon Layne

My favorite things are tiaras, compliments, and free drinks, which are becoming harder to come by the more I tend to show up at the bar in sweat pants. The proudest moment of my life so far has been landing an actual, paying job that allows me to Facebook stalk people for a living. I tweet about my mom way too often, who is constantly trying to remind me that I'm not nearly as cool as I think I am. Please send me funny stories to read at work here:

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