DaveZdyrko.com

It’s pretty obvious that I’m more drunk than hung over when I’m trying to pick up girls on the walk to my car at 9 in the morning. Things started simple enough with a basic “hello” or “good morning” and a big smile to the first few cuties that I encountered. Then things heated up and I shifted the game into 5th gear when I encountered a tremendously attractive dark-haired beauty with big brown eyes waiting at the crosswalk. Here’s how the conversation went down:

Me: “That’s a really cute winter outfit.” (Smiles)

Cute girl: (Smiles sheepishly) “Thank you.”

Me: “You know if it weren’t for hot girls and their cute winter getups the suicide rates in winter would be sky high.”

Cute girl: “Oh my God, that’s awful.” (Giggles)

Me: “There’s nothing awful about it, you should be proud of yourself for all the lives you’ve saved.”

Cute girl: (Laughs) “You’re too funny.” (Smiles and makes really strong eye contact looking up at me)

Me: “Yes, I am. You should give me your number so we can continue this comedy tour over coffee, caramels, or while we build an igloo.”

Cute girl: (Laughs) “But I don’t even know you.” (Giggles and touches my elbow)

Me: “Obviously, that’s why I suggested coffee or building an igloo and didn’t jump straight to making babies.”

Cute girl: (Laughs and smiles with mouth wide open) “Oh my God.”

Me: “Come on, just give me your name and number and I’ll remember it; won’t even put it in my phone.”

Cute girl: “Ha! Okay…”

The screwed up part is that I completely forgot her name and number by the time I finished the drive to work, as the drunk progressed completely to hung over. Her name was something like Marissa or Miranda or something that starts with an M and is about three syllables. And all I remember of her number is the area code (617). An epic failure on my part.