The Greatest Pick-Up Move You've Ever Attempted


For last week’s Pissing Contest, we covered the weird wonders of childhood. This week, we’re moving onto something far more adult (eyebrows waggle): The greatest, most ridiculous move you’ve ever attempted to get someone to go home or go out with you. Bonus points if it actually worked

A Jezebel editor, while at an underwear party in college, boldly said, “Well, we’re already naked” to a classmate who she then SUCCESSFULLY then took to bone zone; another editor shared emails from her friend who was living abroad with her crush so that they’d have something interesting to talk about, only to have the crush and friend fall in love instead (inevitable); one of us pays with Sacajawea coins to impress bartenders (she is a pervert); a staffer, upon seeing someone who vaguely resembled Ja Rule, ran up and introduced herself with the tag line “I’m from Queens. Remember that;” my favorite story comes assistant editor Ellie Shechet (name used with permission), who once attempted to impress a British dude with the adorably doofy line “Are you from somewhere?” Mind you, this occurred in a men’s bathroom while she was, inexplicably, dressed in only a leotard. My most ridiculous pick-up attempt comes from the time I joined a food co-op, just so the cute check-out dude would have to talk me through registration. It did not go great.

And now the winners of last week’s contest, The Funniest, Weirdest Thing You Did as a Kid.

How Damien Grew Up to Be an Accountant by artless.dodger:

When I was seven, I also drew a man and woman, anatomically correct and naked and stabbed with knives with the simple caption “YOU.” I left the sketch taped to my grandfather’s front door. He had just died, and my parents were selling his house. The realtor came by with a prospective couple, while I stood next door in our yard, glowering at them. They must have been freaked by both my Omen-esque staring and the murder scene photo because they were not the eventual buyers.
I grew up to be an accountant, not a murderer.

Baby Ripley by nerdybirdy:

I was 8 years old when I went into my parent’s bedroom one morning while my parents were still asleep and saw my Dad had a boner. I totally freaked out, woke my Mom up by dragging her out of the bed, and called 911 because I thought it was a chestburster from Aliens.

GINGERBREAD IS PEOPLE by CrazyWorldLottaSmells:

When I was in 2nd grade, my class made gingerbread cookies. The teachers orchestrated an elaborate ruse where they pretended the gingerbread cookies ran away. They left flour trails around the school, and wrote messages from the gingerbread cookies with chalk. Messages like “Run run as fast as you can, can’t catch me I’m the gingerbread man!” This lasted over the period of several days.
I did tons of weird shit during this time. I would spend hours in my backyard, singing songs to the lost gingerbread men. Pleading for them to return.
The gingerbread men did come back. The teachers has us line up to retrieve our gingerbread cookies. It came to be my turn. The teacher asks “Do you want to eat your cookie or save it?” Uh “save it!!” (I assumed save meant save it from being eaten, not save it to eat later) She put it in a Ziploc bag and handed it to me. I looked around, seeing my classmates FEASTING on the cookies. Cookies that had, as far as we knew, WRITTEN POETRY. They were alive like we were alive. And they were being brutally massacred at our hands. I started sobbing. The teacher had to call my parents. I had that cookie in my room for years. His name was Mr. Buttons.
2nd grade is when I lost faith in humanity.
Honorable mention Weird Kid Thing: In 3rd grade my best friend Emily and I would eat otter-pops in the hot tub and pretend to be Jack & Rose from Titanic. Then roll around in my bed in our underwear arguing about who got to be Rose. Just rolling around. No kissing or touching. And she always got to be Rose, the bitch.

Congrats, you creepy little weirdos.

Image via VH1’s The Pickup Artist.

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