J Street
How to Attract Harve Roberts

 

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I have a top priority assignment from my exasperated friends: I need to learn to flirt.

I thought I knew how to flirt, but apparently I'm being too subtle. Last weekend my friend Cari asked if I'd tried to approach a certain guy at work I find attractive. I told her I'd sent him an e-mail, and he hadn't responded.

"What did you say in the e-mail?" she asked.

"I told him to have a nice weekend."

"And?"

"That's it. He didn't respond, so I know he's not interested."

You should have seen the look I got.

So now I find myself with a copy of an article written by a guy named Graham Masterton. It's called "First Night Fever," and it offers the best come-on lines for women to give men and how to follow them up. Masterton insists that these lines have been tried and tested with much success, although I suspect the only one they've been tested on is Masterton himself, who probably isn't too discriminating in the first place since he's written a book called Wild Sex for New Lovers. I have a feeling that just about any line would turn this guy on, including, "Would you please stop following me around this bar, you perv?"

But out of curiosity, let's see what his favorite suggestive opening lines are and his tips for following them up.

We'll start with this one: "I couldn't help noticing your hands." When the man asks why, I'm supposed to tell him they're a very interesting shape. I guess if his hands are in the kind of shape that would make me notice, that could be a good conversation-starter. "I've never seen five thumbs on one hand before. So how long have you worked at a nuclear waste site?"

Here's another come-on line: "You're Harve Roberts, aren't you?"

My immediate reaction was "Who the hell is Harve Roberts?" But the follow-up says, "Make sure you take the trouble to find out his name before you try this one."

Oh, I get it. So somehow I find out his name, and I go up to him and ask if that's who he is. He says yes. Now what? According to Masterton: "Follow it up with 'One of my friends was telling me about you. She said you were very big in whatever it is you do.' When he asks, 'Big?', give the quickest glance down to his pants, then up again. Smile and say, 'Well, I guess some women have all the luck.' Start to walk away."

If that one is too subtle for you, try the only possible change that could make your message more obvious. Walk up to him with a great big piece of posterboard stapled to your sweater that reads: LET'S HAVE SEX RIGHT NOW. Then give him the Harve Roberts line. You could probably go right ahead and use the name Harve Roberts because I guarantee he won't be paying attention to a word you're saying anyway.

Just in case Harve is a little slow on the uptake, try this one: "I've forgotten my glasses. You couldn't read this menu for me, could you?" I thought at first that this was the perfect way for older women to approach the potential boy toy, but then I read on: "Many men find the combination of a really sexy look with some sort of minor handicap, like poor eyesight, to be extremely erotic."

They do? I have poor eyesight. Without my contact lenses, I can't see two feet in front of me. So I'll use this line on a guy, bring him back to my place, put on something sheer and sexy, and then stumble around in a blind fog, crashing into furniture, knocking over lamps, and causing bookcases to topple over on me. If guys like minor handicaps, then a visually impaired chick with numerous bruises and fractures ought to drive them wild with passion. If I can somehow trigger an appendicitis attack at just the right moment, he might even propose marriage before I even make it to the bed.

This one is just lame: "I'm doing a survey of all the kinds of things that men like most about women, and you look like somebody who could help me. For instance, what was the first thing you noticed about me? Was it my hair? My eyes? My dress?"

Um, how about your pushiness, Ms. Streisand?

The bottom line is that I just can't play these games. I don't hang out in pick-up places anyway, and the places I do go aren't really appropriate for trying out these come-ons. ("No, Miss Layton, I will not read that menu for you, and would you please put that away so we can finish your driving test?")

Besides, I know I'll have found Mr. Right when he recognizes the steamy, passionate need and longing beneath the e-mail I send him that says, "Please don't forget that your department's status report is due Friday. Have a nice weekend."

Copyright 2001 by Jennifer Layton

 

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