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Our Most Hilariously Awful – And Downright Creepy – Pick Up Stories

Our Most Hilariously Awful – And Downright Creepy – Pick Up Stories

Ask nearly any woman who’s even a hair’s breath into puberty and chances are she’s got an awful  – or at least awfully hilarious – pick up story. From the super creepers who make the hair on the back of your neck stand up to the lines so bad you’d laugh if you weren’t worried it would encourage them, we’ve all got that perfectly terrible story to share. So in solidarity with the female dragonflies who pretend to be dead to avoid male interest, the ladies of LD decided to showcase our own.

The Painful One Liners:

“I like the way your shirt fits on you.”

“So far, you’re the prettiest girl in the room.”

“You’re like a little doll. Can I take your photo and send it to my little sister?”

“Those shorts make your face look cute.”

“I like your red hair and your green freckles.”

“Your skin is so nice like you bathe in milk every day.”

“Hey mama! Can I watch movies with you?!”
“No.”
“Ooooh. Yeah. I like ’em fiesty.”

“You look like my cousin!”

“What nationality are you?”/”What are you?”/”Where are you REALLY from?”

“One time I was hit on while wearing a faux fur coat and this guy goes, ‘You look so good in your coat. Does it make you sweat?'”

Service With a Pervy Smile

“So I’m in a Wendy’s with my college choir because were en route to a performance. Its almost midnight. Out of a line full of sopranos this nineteen or so year old employee focuses on me, tells me his life story before I can get my fries, and then comes up to the table I’m sitting at and *leans up against the garbage can* like a model and asks me like fifty questions, telling me I look so nice (keep in mind its midnight, I’m in sweats and a bun, been on a bus for eight hours) My friends kept interrupting, trying to save me. Guy wouldn’t take a hint. Also he brought over a broom and just started sweeping all around me until I left.”

“One of the guys painting our new house kept following me around from room to room asking me questions about myself. The painters were pretty much the only thing keeping us from moving in, and we’d already had to put most of our stuff into storage for 2 weeks because they were so behind. I was just there to point out places he needed to touch up. Later on he asked if he could help me move some suitcases in. He was basically the epitome of machismo.””A very small child catcalled me once after I reprimanded the grown man he was with for setting a bad example for catcalling me…”

“When I was a senior in high school I’d just had my hair straightened for the first time for my senior portraits. And it being 2003, that meant it was so straight a ruler would’ve looked bent. I was starving so I went through the McD’s drive-thru next to the school in my 1990 massive Suburban and the guy at the window starts giving me the full Joey – “How you doing baby? Girl your hair’s so straight, so red, how bout you call me?” And I’m turning bright red, stuttering, and not replying. I just keep waiting for him to give me my food and he refuses until I give him my number (I’m 17 to his very much older self to boot). Finally I just panicked and drove away without my food, but having already paid.”

“This past weekend, I was at a concert with friends and we were chatting with the group of guys next to us before the band went on. Then the music starts, but one of the guys decides it’s still an opportune time to have a full conversation with me, despite the fact that I’m clearly concentrating on the show. Toward the end, the lead singer pauses to take a pano shot and right after, the guy next to me leans over and says, ‘I should’ve kissed you during that photo so it could’ve been commemorated forever.'”

“A few years ago I was at the gas station waiting for my car to be inspected and was dressed in like full East Coast Prep mode – button down, cashmere sweater, pearls, bun, big sunglasses – coming from a work come to Jesus meeting. Some grease covered guy comes up and starts trying to give me his card saying, “what’s your name, because with an ass like that you need a real man working on your car. You call me baby and I’ll take good care of both of you.” I suppose he saw me as a two for one deal?”

Please Pass the Brain Bleach

“A twelve-ish year old sitting outside a Cumbys: ‘Woah you’re hot.'”

See Also

“Three months ago, when I was 26. Walking my dog in my neighborhood. Pass by some 10 year old boys playing basketball, who all go real quiet as I walk by. One house down, I hear one of them say ‘I’m going to need to take a cold shower after THAT.'”

“A guy at a club told me he was going to take a mental picture of me and keep it in his “Spank bank” for later when he went home alone. There are no words for how awful that is.”

“When I was 13, I was at a (food-serving) bar to see my dad’s band play and a 40+ year-old man asked me if I came there often. N O P E.”

Feeling Dirty in the Clubs

A guy kneeled in a bar, kissed my hand and told me I was beautiful. Then asked if he could buy me a drink. It was rather endearing. However, my college sweetheart was right behind me.”

“I was at a club with my friend and this one guy kept coming up behind me and trying to dance with me. I kept saying no and moving away from him but he kept coming back and he’d try to grab me or just slip behind me and try to dance with me. I got so sick of it I made my friend leave and I went to the bar to close my tab and I feel someone grab my hand. IT WAS THE SAME GUY and he kept trying to hold my hand and was insisting on buying me a drink and he would not take no for an answer and I ended up just walking out.”

“A few weeks ago at a bar. Friends and I are talking to some guys (all of who seemed like normal human beings), and then one of them asks us what our jobs are. I say I’m a yoga teacher. He pauses and then asks if I would like to try some poses on him.”

 

Photo Courtesy of Vlad Fara/Unsplash

Katie

Editor-in-Chief & Founder at Literally, Darling
Katie hails from Northern Virginia and spends her spare time blaring Led Zeppelin and trying to bake her way on to the Great British Bake Off one Victoria Sponge at a time. Her life largely consists of arguing with her dogs, running away from home to meander around the UK, and drinking her weight in tea. Occasionally she even makes time to write and edit for a living, but only when forced.
Katie
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