I think you’d have to try hard to match the sheer unparalleled comedy of the mating rituals of a young scottish geek.
Todays entertainment - java monkey 8 (JM8) pops out to Starbucks, and decides to woo new secretary (NS) by bringing her back a coffee too. Unsure of what she liked, he bought 4 drinks for her (cappucino, chai latte, latte and moccachino) just to be sure.
A nice approach, somewhat spoiled by NS being on holiday today. On the plus side I have had my coffee fix for free now. And my latte fix, and my moccachino fix. Maybe I should offer him a snog as a consolation prize?
Not really. How about the mating rituals of an Oxford educated particle physicist? Now there’s comedy value. He spent a whole half hour the other day during a quiet spot during the open day we were both helping at telling me about his huge detector at CERN
All of a sudden I’m feeling much better about the mating skills of Mensans. All right (**Coldie’s infected me!:eek:), with the exception of the one who was heard, during the wee hours of one RG, to tell the object of his attentions that he could provide references regarding his skill in bed. I’m not sure I know anyone who’d be that desparate.
My friend I feel your pain. Everytime I see a gron up using flirting techniques that usually work till kindergarden I want to eat my eyes and cut my ears. This come from a guy that is a horrendous flirter. For example last friday a girl actually laughed at me because I tried to involve her in a discussion of english literature. I don’t know why I did it, perhaps it was because she was beautifull, perhaps it was the fact that she had the biggest and most sensual eyes that I have ever seen or perhaps it was the fact that she is an english mayor.
This hijack was brought to you by estilicon a guy that last friday said to a beautifull girl “Duh”
Oh, c’mon – how could you resist getting those references? “Hi, is this Susan? I’m calling regarding a recent application by Bill to fuck me. He listed you as a fucking reference; can you verify his dates of fucking and his performance? Would you consider him eligible for refucking?”
The worst flirting I ever saw was at a Vampire game (you can already tell I was hanging out with the cream of the crop, sophistication-wise). A pretty, cheerful, flirty girl had just mentioned that she was quitting the game, and a hunched, balding, skeletal twentysomething guy launched into his theory of aggregate beauty. He explained to her at great length how any personal quality could appear in greater or lesser numbers in any given collection of individuals. “Your abscence from the game,” he concluded with a tortured smile, “Will result in a general lessening of the aggregate beauty of this group.”
I’ll never forget the expression of baffled horror on her face.
Wait – no, that’s only the worst male-to-female flirting I’ve seen. There was always the chick in the Pagan group who claimed to be empathic, and spent one evening sleazing all over my friend Phil. “Stop touching me!” he’d say, and she’d keep caressing his arm, saying, “I’m empathic; I know you enjoy it!”
“No! I don’t!” he’d shout. “Get! Away! From! Me!” he’d demand. But she’d just titter and continue what she was doing.
Poor Phil. If I’d been a better friend, I would have rescued him – but it was far too funny to interfere.
See, you got it all wrong. You can do the point and click without the eye wink.
It’s nothing without the wink. The click sets 'em up. The wink is what reels 'em in.
Or at least that is what I’ve been led to believe by an old coworker. I mean, who ever he did this to must have been laughing with him, not at him right?
Maybe it’s just me, but I think developing interest in the people you work with is a BAD idea. I mean, you just don’t go there - it’s like shitting in your own back yard.
