How to Pick Up Portland Girls VII

Three pick-up techniques that don’t or shouldn’t ever work. This one’s dedicated to the lovely Heidi, who came home from a Last Thursday confused and disgusted by yet another passive aggressive pick-up.

Passive aggressive pick-up: Some dude is sitting at the bar watching a girl flip her hair around, sip her drink, and play shuffle board like an adept retiree. He decides that she is attractive. He approaches her, finds a conversation of mutual interest, indicates his desire to take her out. He probably says, “We should hang out sometime.” She agrees. He then gives her his number. We don’t know why you guys do this. You’ve already done the hard part. You’ve expressed interest, you’ve received some interest or at the very least some cordiality, and then you give up. That’s like asking someone on a date and then telling them they need to plan it and bring their credit card. Girls won’t call. It wasn’t their idea. It was your idea. They may have even liked the idea, but this method lacks follow through and that means you probably still live with your mother, have a poor credit score, and are afraid of horses.

Whistling from cars: I’ve never understood this. No matter what type of whistle, holler, or whoop you emit, you are still a person in a moving vehicle. Let’s say the girl in question does, for some insane reason, find you appealing. What is she supposed to do? Start sprinting? Write down your license number? Post an I saw U (You hit and ran over my heart . . .)? Unless this is taking place on 82nd, it’s pretty doubtful that anything will come of this. It’s uncouth. Whistling from cars indicates that you grew up with sheep and probably love professional wrestling.

Using The Game: The worst birthday of my life involved sitting in an izakaya in Kita Urawa, Japan, listening to two sleazy English teachers explain how The Game works. Prey on your insecurities, tear you down to build you up, appeal to your caveman instincts, etc. Gross. The same people who use The Game use tanning products, hair gel, trim their pubic hair into awkward shapes, and probably own at least one Ed Hardy item. Utterly depressing. These are the guys in Portland who voted for Dudley.