When I was living in KW, I was at the bar waiting for my then bf to get off work and meet me. This couple comes in and starts hitting on me, as a couple. Well, the bf walks in and when I give him the low down, he is like pusing me out the door to go with them.
I didn’t, couldn’t do it. It was funny though how excited the bf got about it. He would have been into it big time.
And I know I told you about the one armed guy I lost the pool game to.
me or him? 
Yeah, and at one time I was good looking enough to have guys try and pick up up with $100 bills (which either means I was hot, or I looked like a hooker - it was a bachalorette after all). Brainiac4 is a lucky guy.
I was hanging out in my dorm room sophomore year, probably a Thursday night, and I logged in to check my e-mail. It’s about 11pm so I figure the only stuff that’s going to show up is random spam or forwards or maybe some admin stuff. I’m about to head to bed, when the client beeps once more.
To: Jurph
From: hot but vaguely unstable chick I lived next to when we were freshmen
Subject: (none)
sex.
I look this over for a few stunned moments. I make sure that the address is who I think it is. I make sure this didn’t go to my box by mistake. I check the date and time stamp to make sure it’s not from a year in the future after we’ve been dating. I ask my roommate, casually, if he’s heard from her recently. No dice. So she has sent me this e-mail out of the blue. :eek:
I fired back a reply.
To: hot girl
From: Jurph
Subject: (none)
when?
Five minutes later, she called me up. We talked for about a half hour, I politely explained to her that I had a pretty big crush on someone else at the time, and that it would be unfair to both of them for me to do anything like that. And then I went to bed.
A week later I started dating the other girl (whom I had the crush on); we’re getting married in January.
Mid 80’s Halloween night. A buddy and I are hanging out in a bar when a woman dressed as a Hutterite comes up to me, pulls a cap gun out of her skirt and says, “I’m kidnapping you.”
ME: “Ha, ha, ha.” And I ignore her.
HER: “No, you’re coming with me.” She points the cap gun and my face, grabs the front of my shirt and drags me, willingly, outside. We end up making out for awhile in her car. She then says she has to find her friends and we go back inside. I lost her in the crowd.
Later that night, my buddy and I ended up with two different women. He got the one who was wearing an actual pumpkin on her head as a mask.
Whistlepig
The weirdest ones I can’t really describe here, since my brain is still working to scar over and repress all memory of them.
But I’m proud to say that I’ve been the recipient of the internet equivalent of “Nice shoes. Wanna fuck?”, with this e-mail exchange from a total stranger:
Subject: Nice glasses
Body: Hey bro. Cool glasses!
Not sure who this person is or how he saw my picture, I respond with:
Subject: Re: Nice glasses
Body: Thanks! It took me years to find them.
And I get back:
Subject: Re: Nice glasses
Body: Cool. Wanna hook up and [nasty nasty nasty nasty nasty]?
[picture of his privates]
Weird thing is, I’ve had two other people send e-mails or IM me starting out with “cool glasses.” So somehow I own The Sexiest Pair of Eyglasses Known to Man. I gotta go thank the Lenscrafters people.
And there was a completely innocuous but perplexing one a long time ago, when I was having breakfast in The Castro with a friend. I handed my money to the guy behind the counter and he took it, which I expected. Then he stared me directly in the eyes, took my hand, and quickly squeezed it twice. He kept looking at me, expecting me to catch on to something, but I just stared blankly back at him – it was kind of like The Miracle Worker. He just gave up and gave me my change. I described it to my friend after we left, and she said, “Dude, he was totally coming onto you.” I hadn’t even thought of coming out yet, so it just made me paranoid that I was somehow subconsciously radiating gayness.
Erm…it was more random than pick-uppy, really. Geek reference sounded like a direct come-on but was actually an obscure request for tobacco. That I got it and responded appropriately without comment apparently went a long way-- unless of course she was just a slag. Which I suppose is possible.
(Monty Python sketch about an unreliable phrase-book.)
Hi there, I’m a CIA agent.
My worst pick up attempt happened on the infamous cricket tour of Swansea, Wales, when I forgot to bring a T-shirt for the wet T-shirt contest. Undeterred by that, I approached a girl at the disco and asked her what she was doing in Swansea. Playing hockey, she told me. “I play cricket”, I said, in response to which she said “Oh” and walked away.
Most weird pick up I received was also related to cricket. As captain of my local club side, I had turned up early for a game at a club I’d never been to before. As I drove onto the ground, a well dressed man waved to me and welcomed me as Secretary of the club. I don’t have much of a gaydar, but he did seem a little over friendly. I remember he told me he was a solicitor, which seemed a little TMI, and I did have my suspicions, which I mentioned to a team mate. Mistake.
All fine and dandy until after the game when I entered the bar after being the last to change, to find my team mates congregated at the far end. I bought a drink and sauntered down, only to find that they had taken every available seat apart from the one next to the Secretary, who was ensconced on a 2-seater settee. I could hardly refuse his polite invitation to sit down, and had to squirm through the next 20 minutes pretending to be engrossed in his conversation while my erstwhile friends sniggered and made lewd gestures in my eyeline behind his back.
I thought I’d survived the worst, when he suddenly took his wallet out of his blazer and handed me his business card. “Do stay in touch,” he asked.
I wonder if they ever found the card stuck down the side of the settee. I don’t remember who won that game.
You have my sympathies, roger. I lost count of the number of times I had men coming on to me when I was at uni (and there were probably many more that I just didn’t pick up on).
I’m not gay, goddammit – I’m just English!
You, dummy.
Oh, wait…
Then there was the time I was at a party (another New Years, actually - about four years earlier than my encounter with the mystery girl on Sixth Street) with my best friend…
Let me tell you, there’s not much more entertaining than when a dozen gay guys realize that:
a) You’re the only straight guy at a party and you’re single
and:
b) The only straight woman at the party is single, also.
Suddenly I had a dozen enthusiastic, effeminate matchmakers - the girl they were trying to hook me up with was pretty and seemed cool, but she was kinda freaked out by all the attention. She was also five years older than me, and that turned out to be a small problem for her.
That year’s New Year’s kiss? I happened to be standing next to my best friend’s ex right at midnight, so she kissed me. Lesbians kiss just like straight girls - who’d have guessed?
Hello, interesting thread – I’m not sure my story fits right in, as my part in it was fairly systematic, but the effects came randomly, so maybe it does:
In the early 80’s, when I was something of a party boy in Boston, I lived in a loft at the corner of Pearl and High streets, in the business district. About 3000 square feet, and dirt cheap – which might have had something to do with the fact that there was no heat on my floor. At all. But summers were nice.
I had a big corner window overlooking the intersection, and across the intersection was a phone booth, and I’d taken the number of the pay phone. Late on summer afternoons, the Provincetown ferry would let passengers off at the wharf a few blocks away; some of them would walk up High Street to get the Red Line train. So there was a fairly predictable flow of tanned, relaxed gay men up High Street, fresh from Provincetown and still maybe in party mode. Especially on weekends.
I’d be up in the third floor window with a joint*, and if a likely candidate should walk past the phone booth, I’d ring and ask if he wanted to get high. (“Oh come on,pick up!”) The conversations were almost always funny and jovial, I’d tell them where to look, sometimes they’d want to come up, which was fun, sometimes not, which was no big deal, but either way we’d have a laugh together.
Oops - * = not advocating anything!
What’s the word that’s used here–whooshed? I think that was probably a porn site’s spam. Lots of people wear glasses so there’s a pretty good chance they’ll get a lot of bites.
Believe me, that’s the first thing I thought of. But I did a little background checking to find out where these guys were writing from, and they all turned out to be real people. Real weird people, but at least not porn sites.
There’s a difference?
Well, of course, a skeezy guy is a skeezy guy, no matter which way he swings his bat. But in partial defense of gay men everywhere – I think there’s some truth to what Fred Phelps and the like say: God really doesn’t like homosexuals. I can’t think of any other reason why He, in His Infinite Wisdom, would allow people to be gay but not bless them with any functional gaydar whatsoever.
I mean, I can look at a guy wearing black leather pants, no shirt, a rainbow kerchief tied around his neck, an “I Love Liza” diamond bracelet, holding a little dog while walking into a video store to rent Queer as Folk, and I’m still like, “Hmmm… I dunno… maybe he is?”
Okay, note: I’m female. If I’m in a gay bar, odds are extremely good that a man will hit on me. Yes, you may insert “WTF?” here 'cause,well, why the heck would a straight guy go to a gay bar to look for women. (Wait, don’t answer that, I don’t wanna know!)
Creepiest was a guy who came up to me wearing very nice dress pants, and a skin tight satin shirt, who said “I’m straight actually… Are your parents expecting you home tonight?”
So anyway, it’s kind of a running joke that everytime I go to a gay bar, even with with my same sex partner, a straight guy will try to pick me up.
I mentioned this to my new girlfreind, and lo’… At Toronto Pride, we were navigating through some very dense crows, a man grabbed my arm, pulled me over and said “so… where are YOU going?..”
Well, speaking as a straight woman, on most of the few occasions I’ve been to gay bars (gee, now that I think about it, it’s been a long time since I did), it’s because I want to go dancing and not have to worry about guys hitting on me. Maybe other women thought the same, and now it’s backfiring on you.
Well yes, that much I sort of assumed, but the weird thing is it often happens when I’m with my girlfriend (I don’t go to bars, so when I go, it’s usually because my SO and I have been invited to see a friend or acquaintance on some kind of special occasion).
So a man walks into a dyke bar, sees a couple holding hands at a table, and marches up to hit on one of them? It’s still kinda weird.
Single, Halloween night, and I’m dressed as the Fairy Godmother, including star tipped wand and magic wish dust (gotta love silver glitter and old bridesmaid dresses - instant costume!). Second bar we hit, we find loads of friends and decide to ride the evening out there. A really nice looking man starts flirting with me, but I had a policy to never give out last name or telephone number. I did offer my first name (rather unique) and that I worked in a car dealership. We enjoyed dancing the rest of the evening and then I called it a night - alone tyvm 
Fast forward to Monday morning and around 11am a huge bouquet of flowers is delivered to me. The guy called every dealership in town until he found the one I worked at and sent beautimous flowers! Yes, we dated for a few months - he got major points for his homework
Second story: single mother working three jobs and I got a promotion at my primary job, enabling me to quit job #3. Decide to go out with the gals to celebrate and stumbled into a birthday party where we knew folks. One man, that I didn’t know, was buying bottle after bottle of champagne for the gals. Soon after we arrived he asked me to dance and we had a great time the rest of the evening. I broke my rule and gave him my phone #. We recently celebrated our 18th wedding anniversary 
Cool, huh?
I was maid of honor at my best friend’s wedding. At the reception, I was dancing with her brother, and out of the blue he starts telling me he has always had a crush on me and starts begging me to come home with him. I told him that although I was flattered, I didn’t think his wife would be too pleased about it. :dubious:
Without missing a beat, he says, “Oh no…(blank) is into big breasted women too! She would really enjoy you! I bring women home for her all the time.” :eek: (whoaaaa…wasn’t expecting that one. And I am extremely, terminally straight, BTW).
A few days later, I mentioned to my friend that her brother must have been really drunk at the reception. The first thing out of her mouth is “Oh great…he asked you to come home with him and his wife, didn’t he? Why does he like to hit on my friends?!?”
Very awkward, very strange situation.