The List

I want to talk about picking up chicks. I want to talk about this because so many guys seem to need help.

I shall now impart an inspiring anecdote.

One evening this summer, a girlfriend and I were sitting at Plymouth, a rooftop bar in Chicago. There happened to be a Cubs/Phillies game on TV which was both convenient and coincidental, me being from Chicago and Sarah, from Philly.

It was also quite convenient that our bartender was absolutely gorgeous. All I remember about him was that he was 28, born and raised in the city, and his name started with "J." But none of that is important. What is important is that he was stunning (even before I ingested several Long Islands), and more importantly, clever.

"Are you a Cubs fan?" he flirted, handing me the first drink.

"Yeah."

"Are you single?"

He did not miss a beat. Two thumbs up. This comedic timing was wonderful.

I laughed. "Yeah."

He produced a long piece of paper from his wallet that unfolded several times.

"How many of these other things are you?"

He handed me the rather involved handwritten list of qualities:

Attractive
Cubs fan
Priorities straight
Wants kids
Healthy
Fit
Nonsmoker
Doesn't do drugs
Good in bed*** (This one was starred, circled, bolded, and underlined.)
Positive attitude
Funny
Intelligent
Likes to go out
Confident
Athletic
Goal-oriented
Spiritual
Kind
Comfortable with herself
Honest
Trusting
Clean
Conscientious

As Sarah and I were cracking up at the ingenuity displayed before us, the female bartender came over to see what all the fuss was about. Naturally, she thought it was adorable too.

“You ACTUALLY have a LIST? A PHYSICAL list? And you CARRY it on you?”

“J” explained that this was absolutely necessary because he needed to start cutting to the chase and stop wading through the bullshit of dating relationships. If I remember correctly, I believe he had recently gotten his heart pwned by a woman. But that’s neither here nor there. This “list” was too hilarious. Every female that now surrounded “J” at the bar was highly impressed and intrigued.

I handed him back the paper.

“Well, so how many?” he joked.

I laughed again and reminded him that I was just visiting from California, but that I knew this tactic would yield desirable results for him eventually.

"Oh, I see,” he said. “So the real reason is that you don't date black guys."

"No, no, no,” I assured him. “The real reason is I don't date 28 year olds."

But the point is, if I did, I would.

Sarah and I abandoned the baseball game and "J" to meet up with another friend, but his forthrightness and wit did leave an impression. I mean, here I am, months later, still telling this story...

Hint: Try this, guys. You'd be surprised.