Pick-Up Non-Artists Part 2

The Swinger

A couple of months ago a friend got me hooked on a game for smart phones called, Quiz Cross. It’s a trivia game with the option of playing with other random people in the world who have no nerdy friends and are looking for an opponent. Enter: “Sparkle” (full username not disclosed out of respect).  Her icon was that of a blonde-haired, cartoon chick and she was a formidable opponent. My icon is my facebook profile picture because I lazily used my facebook account to register with the game. One day I get a normal-enough message saying hi, where are you from etc. Then she says, “You’re very beautiful,” to which I replied, “Thanks, very kind of you to say.” It struck me as a bit odd but then I thought she was just being nice… until she started sending me kisses and those little faces with hearts for eyes! I told her I wasn’t into girls, and she informed me that she was "into both". After consistently more audacious messages she thought I should know that her husband also thought I was “a hottie.” What the?! I ignored these messages and continued to play (after all, she was a good player!) but when she started requesting pictures of me in my swimsuit I had to tell her she was crossing the line. I know there are all sorts of kinky things that have become ‘normal’ these days, but, I’m sorry, a couple perving on you together is just gross.

The Leicester Square Affair

While I was living in London, my dear friend Deb told me the story of this guy who trained lonely, socially awkward men to be smooth pick-up artists. She had watched a documentary one time that showed them trying out their lines on girls in Leicester Square. It became a symbol for us, of the sad state of the male population and the reasons why we were single! One evening, I was in Leicester Square with “the Gang,” a group of dear friends that consisted of Deb, Leo, Priya and Raffa (I miss you guys!). We were chatting and joking around until a decent-looking young guy (accompanied by another man) came up to us and started quoting me his number. I told him if he were really interested, the least he could do was write it down himself. (My technique with unwanted guys is to take their number so they leave me alone, and then obviously, never call. I know it sounds cruel, but otherwise they just don’t go away!) He reached for his card and as he was about to hand it to me, Deb raised her hand in a gesture that seemed to say both, “stop” and “ooh, ooh, I know the answer!” Then the most classic line she has ever uttered flowed from her lips: “I saw a documentary and you’re teaching him how to pick up girls!!” She was addressing the tall, blond man that was overseeing this budding lady’s man, at which point, the said lady’s man put away his business card, and muttered a thousand words a second that went something like: “Well I just wanted to know if you wanted to get jiggy with it. I mean, I was just playing. I’m gay anyway.” Then he and his tutor skittled away in a wave of embarrassment. I mean really, if you want anonymity, don’t make a documentary!

Europe is another planet! Haha I’m gonna miss these characters when I head back to Australia where guys keep quiet and only check you out on the sly. I’ll deliver a Part 3 at some point; I have an endless barrel of these stories!

Pick-Up Non-Artists

The “Priest”

It was only my second or third day in Europe and I was at a Metro station in Rome, waiting for the train. I saw a middle-aged African man in a priest’s get-up who looked lost and disorientated. I, assuming he may speak English, asked him if he needed a hand. He told me he was trying to get to the Colosseum so I replied that I was headed to that stop as well and could show him where to get off. It all seemed harmless enough and I was happy to help someone out. THEN! We got on the train and he started to ask questions about where I was staying. I said it was a B&B with a shared bathroom etc. So he asks me, “Can I follow you there and see what it’s like?”

           “No,” I said, proud of my correct reflex answer (my usual tendency is to be obliging). 

            “Why not?”

           “Because I don’t know you,” I said. The tone of his voice and the way he was looking at me was starting to freak me out.

            “Oh. Can I have your email address or your telephone number in case I want to ask you something later?”

            “No.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I don’t know you.”

            “Oh are you sure?”

            “Yeah I’m sure. Oh look, here’s the stop you want!” With that I jumped out of the train and ran up the stairs. I knew I was a lot fitter than him and would lose him but I walked home looking behind me the whole way. Ughh… It was a good experience to have early on because it made me much more wary when travelling on my own.

The Gladiator

I’ve mentioned the Gladiator before, but he deserved to be remembered in this post. Around the same time as the Priest – in Rome 2010 – I was staying at a B&B near the Colosseum and consequently had to walk past it every time I took the Metro. As I crossed the open area in front of the entrance to the Colosseum a Roman “gladiator”, who in that moment had no tourists to pose with, threw me this classic line (in a thick Italian accent) that I still chuckle about: “Hey darling you’re so sexy. What’s your name, Paradise?” Do you think he’s actually ever picked anyone up with that one?

The Hands-on Professor

There was a certain – married – middle-aged professor where I was contracted to teach some high schoolers. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He stared at me everywhere but in the eye and paid me repetitious compliments. I tried to be polite but when I finished working with that class and he asked for my number I couldn’t resist calling him on his crap. “Why do you want my number?” I said innocently but straightforwardly. “Oh, uh, you know, in case there’s some problem here and I need to contact you.” I assured him that the teacher taking over from me would be more than capable of handling any issues and if not, he could contact my boss! *Creep*

The B&B Sock Saviour

To cut a long story short… I left my socks at a B&B in Verona where I stayed with my sister before finding an apartment here. We moved onto the next city and the young Spanish guy from the B&B wrote to me to inform me of my loss. I told him I was on my way to Le Cinque Terre and would have to relinquish the socks. He wrote to me three times trying to convince me that I needed them. He even went to the trouble of detailing all the possible solutions for reclaiming them – every option depended upon me seeing him again, of course… Needless to say, I bought new socks!

The Ambos

It was 8am and I was walking across Ponte della Vittoria in Verona, next to the stop-start peak-hour traffic. The footpath and the car lanes are quite intimate on this bridge so you can almost hear the drivers cursing the traffic lights or singing along to tacky love-songs. I walked past the bumper-to-bumper cars in a purposeful yet distracted way. In my dream-like mental state, I heard someone say, “Buongiorno!” (Good Morning!) over some kind of loud speaker. I wondered what it was all about so I looked up and saw two ambulance officers smiling at me with all the self-satisfaction of two young guys who had just used the truck’s megaphone to get my attention! Only in Italy! All three of us had a little giggle and then went on our merry way.

The Little Grandpa on a Bike

The prize goes to my personal favourite… a sweet, little old man in his 70’s who was riding down the same street that I was walking down. He was going so slowly that I overtook him despite having no wheels. When I got near him, he had already pretty much ground to a halt. He saw me passing by, and said something I didn’t hear properly. I thought I’d better check seeing as he was elderly and might need a hand. I asked him to please repeat what he had said. He stopped fiddling with his bike and with both hands made a gesture of perfection, “Sei bellissima,” (you’re very beautiful). He had nothing else to say… He collected his bike and tottered off at the same break-neck speed as before. He made my day :)

There are several more stories I could share here, but this post is already too long and there’s only so much we can all take of these smooth operators! Maybe there’ll be a Part 2 some time!