“Best” real-life chatup lines

[Phil]

I was at work today, and one of my coworkers had to unload a big filing cabinet, so I went outside to help him. I was standing around, waiting for him to pull the vehicle over to the curb.

I work in a state building, with various other state departments, one of which is the Department of Children and Families.

While I was waiting around for him to bring the truck over, this young unwed mother who had her kids taken away because she keeps getting busted with drugs was hitting on me, and gave me her number.

With the smoothest line ever: “Don’t call me until after this weekend, because they turned my phone off.”

I mean…what, exactly, did she think might be attractive to me?

[Dave]

A friend of mine got us all kicked out of a club after beginning a wooing with: “Isn’t rape a bitch?”

[Tanya Jones]

Classy. Sounds like the woman who hit on Phil thinks that men all have low standards…

[Seb Patrick]

A girl very drunkenly said to me “In the words of Albert Schweitzer, I fancy you” in a club once. Not a random girl, I hasten to add. Someone I knew. It was followed a few weeks later, in the same club, by the following exchange :

Her : “So, am I coming back to yours, then?”
Me : “Do I have any choice?”
Her : “Not really, no.”

This makes it sound like I wasn’t interested; I was, I was just being rubbish. Anyway, we went out for a few months in the end, still mates today. I don’t think she remembers the Izzard-quoting incident.

[James]

You should’t get your big filing cabinet out on the sidewalk Phil, that would have done it for me!

[Phil]

She actually wasn’t a bad looking girl, but I’m naturally suspicious of anyone who feels the need to hit on me.

I mean…pretty girls usually know they’re pretty. She could probably have sealed the deal based on that alone. Why the need to tell me that she’s in trouble for drugs, her kids got taken away, and her utilities have been switched off?

Call me old-fashioned, but show me a bit of cleavage and shut up.

[pfm]

The best way to chat up a girl is by, well, not chatting much at all. You’ve just got to fucking listen, and pretend to be interested in absolutely everything she says. Some/most/all (that last one) girls love the sound of their own voices, so if they see you’re willing to listen to it for a long period of time then you’re in with a chance.

[TheLeen]

The best way to chat up a girl is by NOT using a chat-up line, no matter how clever you think it is. Just engage in natural conversation and be yourself, so she can figure out whether she likes you or not, jeez.

[Ian Symes]

The best way to chat up a girl is by, well, not chatting much at all. You?ve just got to fucking listen, and pretend to be interested in absolutely everything she says. Some/most/all (that last one) girls love the sound of their own voices, so if they see you?re willing to listen to it for a long period of time then you?re in with a chance.

You old smoothie.

The best way to get a girl is to get her hideously drunk on vodka and kiss her constantly until she starts to enjoy it. I did this, and a year later I’m engaged.

[Seb Patrick]

You’d just better hope she doesn’t sober up before the wedding.

[Pete Part Three]

Go up to them and ask what part of Wales they come from. This is so random it tends to initiate a conversation.

[James]

Unless they are Welsh and say Swansea, and then say see ya!

[penny]

What’s wrong with Swansea?
My Aunt lives in Swansea with her family and they are all lovely people.

[James]

Eh? Nothing is wrong with Swansea, I know people there too. It was a reply to a chat-up line that fails if they are already Welsh.

[Pete Part Three]

Why does it fail, though? It’s an In. Obscure and odd, but an In.

[James]

Possibly, but I won’t try it in Glasgow.

[Baz]

Do you mind! Mike and I come from Swansea!

So does Russell T Davis, not that that counts for anything. But Harry Secombe does though.

[Ben Paddon]

While waiting for a bus in Luton Town Centre a couple of years ago, I heard a girl shouting.

“Oi!” she said. “I like you! Giz’ ya phone number!”

I pride myself on my ability to see a person’s Inner Beauty, and I could tell from her mannerisms, her speech and her dress sense that she was a person whose Inner Beauty was in dire need of thousands of pounds worth of cosmetic surgery. She seemed to have just recently stepped off of the Chavette production line. Her tracksuit was the most peculiar shade of pink, and I was blinded by the sun glinting off of her ridiculously large golden hooped earrings. She had that stupid “bumpy hair” haircut a la Mark Lamarr circa 1992, and I seem to recall that dental hygiene was not high on her list of priorities.

“You’re not subtle, are you,” I replied.

“So you gonna give me y’number, or wot?”

I raised my eyebrows. Mercifully, my bus arrived, and as I stepped on I called back, “Sorry, I’m taken.” I severely hoped someone would take her, too – preferably to some sort of Asylum for the Chronically Wrong In the Head.

(I have a horrible tendency to assume that any girls who expresses an interest in me must be mentally ill, largely because any girls who expresses an interest in me must be mentally ill.)

[pfm]

Commenting on a girl’s smile is pretty good, e.g. ‘What a lovely smile…you could have been throwing up all night for all I know and yet your smile wouldn’t show it. I don’t know, perhaps that’s how you keep your figure…’

[Ian Symes]

May I just say what a *smashing* blouse you have on.

[Author]

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