How would you feel about coming back to my place, drinking some red wine, getting naked, and then smearing mayonnaise all over each other’s bodies?
Do you have a Facebook profile? Because I want to sign on and like your face.
Are you at all interested in finding out why I saw you from across the bar room and thought that you might be an interesting person to get to know, beyond your aesthetics?
Look, I’m not a sex offender (yet), so you could definitely do worse.
What are your thoughts on porn? I think it’s good practice. And I practice A LOT.
I’m a feminist. I’ll prove it. You can hold the door for me when we leave here to go back to my place.
Do you wash your pants in Windex? I have to ask. Because if you say yes then I have to go hit on someone else because that is really weird and a terrible liquid cleaning solution to include in your laundry regimen.
I have been working on myself a lot. Been doing it for the past six-and-a-half years, actually, so I think I’m finally ready to really let someone in. Tell me—do you think you can handle the key to my still delicate heart?
Did you know that if your heart was broken, you’d be dead? Well, mine isn’t broken, but my cholesterol might break it anytime now, so we should probably strike while they iron is hot or whatever, right? You know what’s good for lowering cholesterol? Exercise. And sex is exercise. I’m just saying.
Did it hurt? When you last plucked those eyebrows?
Did it hurt a few moments ago when you fell off that bar stool? And are your friends going to automatically assume that I walked over here to take advantage of you because you are clearly way drunker than you probably should be in a public venue? Do you have any insight into why they believe this without having ever met or even laid eyes on me before tonight?
Would you like to go home and have sex with me tonight?
How much does a polar bear weigh? Just kidding. Don’t answer that. Nobody could ever know which polar bear I was talking about, and it’s not like they always weigh the same amount, consistently, across the entire species. And if you thought I was going to say ‘Enough to break the ice!!!!’ then tell you my name, then you have wrongly estimated my personality and demeanor. Polar bears don’t wander out onto ice whenever they’re feeling fat, specifically because they don’t want to break the ice. Anyway, my name is Muska. Nice to meet you.”
Can I have your phone number? (This one would probably work if you were a good-looking bloke, though.)
Is that a flashlight in your pocket? Just kidding, I know it’s your mobile phone. But those have flashlights on them nowadays! Technology, am I right? Want to grab a drink?
You aren’t a nurse are you? Because my mom is and I’m sick of dating nurses, because people always imply that I still have some sort of Oedipus Complex. Are you familiar with the Oedipus Complex? Want me to explain it to you? It’s kind of disturbing.
I’m the kind of guy where it always seems to be, like, feast or famine on the dating front. I just went on a really great date the other night, so I’m feeling pretty lucky right now. Want to get a drink or maybe some French fries drenched in gravy?
Your legs must be tired. Because this bar is not very close to any of the major subway lines.
Baby, I’m no Fred Flinstone. I have all the latest technology. May I please have your mobile number so that I can text you sometime?
Are you frustrated by random, unruly dudes who approach you? Well, I’m sexually frustrated. Maybe we can work something out.