So I’m on a couple of pickup artist email lists — I always mean to mine them for posts here but somehow never get around to even looking at the emails that pile up in my inbox.
Today, I looked. Because how could you not look at an email that opens like this:
There’s so much to unpack here. We’ve got prehensile breasts trying to wiggle their way to freedom. We’ve got a woman in a grocery store who flirts with men by literally grabbing all the vaguely phallic vegetables a dude has in his cart. (Also, why was this dude shopping with a pickup guru? Does he only buy phallic vegetables, in hopes of attracting grabby women with prehensile breasts?)
And then we have a pickup artist trying to convince us that he’s got some magical phrase — available only to those who give him their credit card number — that will enable men to lure grocery-grabbing women into having sex.
I’m pretty sure that if a woman is literally grabbing your penis-shaped produce in a grocery store, either you have wandered onto the set of a porn film, or, you know, she likes you and you don’t actually need a “money line” to magically win her over. All you have to do is decide if you like her too, and if you do, suggest getting something to eat, or drink, or pretty much anything that involves hanging out more. It’s not that complicated. Women aren’t locks to be picked.
I’m also pretty sure that someone who writes sentences like this
… isn’t someone you want to rely on as your own personal Cyrano de Bergerac.