Archive | November, 2011

Get a New Pick-Up Line, Buddy

23 Nov

So one Regular is either 100% sober, or he is ridiculously wasted. There is never an in  between. This guy is a mess.

So anyway, when he gets shitfaced, he likes to hit on me.  But he ALWAYS uses the same pickup line. Always. I will enlighten you to what it is:

 

‘I want to finger-comb your hair until you fall asleep.’

 

okay… creepy… nice to know that is apparently his fetish (since he told me this not once, not twice, but at least twelve times).

I hear it al the time. No big deal. I’m used to it.  On Halloween weekend, I was dressed as a dominatrix (a fun-sized dominatrix, nonetheless) with crazy raver boots, a whip, and studded wrist cuffs.  That night, the Regular drops his line.

‘I want to finger comb your hair until you fall asleep.’

so I say:

‘I want to stomp all over your face until you bleed.’

 

He smiles. Big smile. Creepy big smile.

 

‘I’d be into that. As long as I can finger comb your hair after.’

 

Jesus Christ. Okay, okay. I get it. Enough already.

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Pickup Lines- Special Edition: As Dirty as it Gets

22 Nov

”Do you like games? I do. My favorite game is ‘just the tip.’ Wanna play?’

 

‘I like your dress. No, really. The only thing that would make it better would be if it was covered in my jizz.’

 

‘My girlfriend and I really want to take you home tonight.  I wont even touch you, I promise. I’ll just be watching in the corner, masturbating.’

 

‘I bet your pussy tastes as good as this beer. Wanna prove me right?’

 

‘I bet your dick and my pussy could be best friends. Wait. Shit. I fucked that one up.”

Waitress Fires Back

22 Nov

People drink some random ass shit. I know the whole ‘different strokes for different folks’ thing applies in all aspects of life, but sometimes people want some weird drinks.  One guy was drinking root beer schnapps on the rocks all night long. Literally, for like four hours.  After he was maybe seven shots deep, he starts hitting on me.  After more shots, he starts getting more aggressive and uncouth about it, telling me that I WILL be going home with him, etc.  Finally, he tells me that it’s going to happen, and I should just accept it.  But there is a way out of it…

 

He says, ‘so you either drink rootbeer schnapps out of my bellybutton, or my dick is going in your butt. Which do you want?’

 

I fire back, ‘well how clean is your bellybutton?’

 

Everyone (except for him) started laughing.

Score one for the tiny cocktail waitress.

Overheard at the Bar

22 Nov

‘the wrong hole? On a woman or a man? Because theres only one hole for a man, and that’s the RIGHT hole.’

 

‘just be glad I’m still wearing pants.’

 

‘german sparkle party!! Anybody down?’

 

‘Truffle Shuffle. Works everrrrry time.’ (giant fat man with a huge gut proceeds to do truffle shuffle in the middle of the bar)

view the real truffle shuffle here to see what I was dealing with…

Waitress Fires Back- Fail

22 Nov

This past weekend, a guy was following me around the bar like a puppy. Enamored. Apparently I was very charming.  He kept pestering me with questions throughout the night.  He kept telling me I was gorgeous, but I looked way too young for him (okay Sir, why then, are you hitting on me?)  He eventually asks:

 

‘so how old are you anyway, twelve?’

Irritated, I shoot back.

‘you wish.’

His reply?

‘Damn right I do.’

 

Okay pedophile.  I thought my sassy comeback would floor him. But he beat me to the punch. I walked away thoroughly creeped out.

Pickup Lines- Round Three

22 Nov

‘I think we should be sixtynine buddies. What do you think?’

 

‘Forget that guy. Forget sixty-nine. I wanna do the seventy-one. Its sixty-nine with two fingers in your butt.’

 

(on a cocktail napkin):  If you want genitalia on your face and/or dinner – Zack (408) 482-xxxx

 

‘you’re in my spank bank. You wish you could get out, but you cant.’

 

‘giiiiirl, I wanna dip you in chocolate and throw you to the lesbians.’

Waitress Fires Back

22 Nov

I dress up for work. A lot. I usually have full makeup and am dressed in short shorts or a short dress. Or jeans with a lowcut top. What can I say, I make better tips when I look like a tart.  One day I was wearing a lowcut shirt, and I accessorized with necklaces.  One such had an Eiffel Tower charm on it.

I was doing my job, serving drinks, and a table of three guys consistently keeps checking out my cleavage (I wear great pushup bras- they work wonders). So over the course of an hour, everytime I pass by, I notice three sets of eyes (not so slyly) checking out my boobs. Eventually as I walk by, one of them asks if I’m French.

‘no. im not. Why?’

‘oh, because of your necklace. TheEiffel Tower. I thought it was a French thing.’

To which I deftly replied:

no, its not a French thing. It’s a sex thing. I love it. I cant get enough.’

Their mouths dropped. They didn’t know what to say. Bwahaha.

Side note: I don’t actually participate in Eiffel towers… I just wanted to fuck with these guys for being pervy.