Five Places to Meet Girls
girls like art museums and the boys who frequent them. go even if you don’t know a rothko from a mondrian, you might learn something. while i was in the tate modern with a friend in london, a hottie pattotie went up to her and asked her out. they subsequently had an unbelievable “made for the big screen where’s anne hathaway let’s cast her right now and have sweeping panoramas of locations in europe with slightly edgy music so it looks like it could be a fun indie but really all the producers want is to make bank and is there room for a sequel and maybe a clothing line?” fling.
i wasn’t jealous or anything.
other art-related events are good, like gallery openings. maybe you can pretend you’re in how to make it in america. and if you look like bryan greenberg, well, you don’t even need to talk about art. just denim, and how adorable you were in prime. (it’s not the most believable show on the planet…boys that cute work at barney’s?)
girls are territorial about their frozen yogurt. they love it. they live and die for it. in a way that’s scary, probably unhealthy, and thoroughly illogical. boys don’t understand this frozen yogurt female phenomenon. who knows. it’s like chick crack.
so you may as well hang out with the strung-out addicts hovering around pinkberry simultaneously twitching, bbming, and agonizing over whether or not getting a large with extra sprinkles and chocolate chips is too much given that this is the third serving of the day. (mochi is the culprit. its magical, and it’s no coincidence it looks like crack rocks.)
3. birthdays, pregames, and birthday pregames.
why is it that there is a birthday party every weekend? or a birthday pregame every weekend? or a pregame worth birthdaying? birthday parties and pregames are great because you can speak to people in a smaller group. not to mention girls will for the most part trust that youre not a cap’n crunch killer because it’s all friends of friends of friends of friends (presumably.) unless you just wandered in off the street to that 1st and 33rd building where the lobby is basically a young syracuse alumni meet-market.
plus, girl pregames are the best – we love straws. girls. love. straws. (why is this? maybe it’s just that i need to mix my svedka and diet cran very thoroughly in all colors of the rainbow, with zest. extra points for super crazy straws.) and there’s always a large candy spread that the said birthday girl bought but is trying desperately to pawn off on you.
i’ll take it from here, with my pockets full of sour patch kids. no, no rach, only the red ones.
you’re bored and stuck and nauseated. if you’re not sandwiched between a guy with a profuse sweating problem and a screaming baby, strike up a conversation! what else are you going to do? plus if you get a girl like me who is terrified of turbulence, act very sympathetic and hold her hand. it’s the nice thing to do.
layovers are good too (oh yeah. get it?) you’re probably going to the same place, and you’re just trolling around the newsstand, trying to flip through magazines indiscreetly (who seriously wants to pay for ok? i think my dog wrote that) and staring at those bags of trail mix that nobody ever buys. if you’re given the options of m&ms, starbursts, and doritos, why would you ever go with trail mix or like the even worse option of tropical trail mix with those weird little orange bits?
on amtrak, the cafe car is never open and the line extends to kansas and i don’t want the $12 limp caesar salad, so let’s make some babies. if you’re on the bus, ask to use someone’s plug (if ya know what i mean.)
i love dogs. girls love dogs. girls love boys with dogs. aw! look, you have some semblance of responsibility! (as long as its not a dude with a small dog. sorry guys, small dogs aren’t dogs. they’re just not. the end. someone is going to sic their pomeranian on me.) dogs are girl magnets. we love them.
and if you have a puppy eating pinkberry with extra mochi, you’re getting laid.
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