Chat-Up Lines, Pillow Talk, and Why I’m No Mercedes
While I was playing three card poker in Vegas, a hot guy to my left started chatting me up. With a slight slur, he called me pretty.
I responded to the line with some polite but dry remark, and the guy’s eyes widened. “Woah,” he said, “and you’re British too? The stakes just rocketed.”
Now don’t get me wrong. I love it when people take an interest in my accent. But as a chat-up line, it gets old. (Not to mention the fact that the use of the word “stakes” makes you feel more like a Mercedes than a woman). Yes, I’m a Brit. Yes, I sound kinda kinky. But if you just want me for my accent, go find some other English girl, because presumably anyone from the Motherland would do.
The last time I had partnered sex, the opposite happened. I was with two gorgeous friends, both of whom are dear to me. As we lay in bed, they whispered that I was a beautiful, uninhibited and generous lover, and I found myself glowing because I haven’t often received such compliments, and their good opinion means a lot. Not once did they mention my accent. That’s not to say it wouldn’t have been pleasant if they had, but I noticed that they didn’t, and it moved me.
Well, no one ever told me this — I had to figure it out for myself: When I’m chatting someone up and they’re somehow unusual, the stuff I don’t compliment might make them seem more special. Perhaps it’s similar to the tale of the cliche movie star who goes for the person who’s never even heard of them.
Because anyone can notice the obvious things. And few can see our truths.