The dining hall. A classic pick-up spot. Nothing’s sexier than sweatpants and laxative-laced food. The problem is, it’s a prime location for misinterpretations. And sexual innuendo. But most of all, the best spot for a blossoming romance. The only problem is: guys are incapable of using their brains when speaking to a female. Observe:
And by tomatoes, I mean boobs.
Eye contact. Boom.
Oh my god, she’s staring right at you!
Oh yeah, that worked. Ok, do something
Attention: hand! Drop the weiner! I repeat:
Attention: mouth! Do NOT say anything about
“Nice. Tossin’ some salad, huh?”
This is gonna be a great salad. Oh god, is
Oh lord. It’s ok, just pretend you were
Shit. I don’t think that worked.
What in God’s name is he doing to that hot
Oh, no, no, no. How did he get over here so
Did he just say “Sup’? SO not a ninja”¦
“Um. Hi. Nothing, just making a salad.”