Pick-Up Artist

“Pardon me, miss?”

“Yes?”

“Your legs…”

“What about my legs?”

“Well, I was just thinking they must be tired.”

“What do you mean?”

“Because they’ve been running through my mind all night long.”

“Are you kidding? Did you really just say that?”

“What?”

“Did you actually just try to pick me up with that cheesy line?”

“Is there something wrong with trying to make conversation with a beautiful woman?”

“No…I guess not, but—”

“I mean, I’ve got to say something to break the ice, don’t I?”

“But did you have to say that?”

“What’s wrong with what I said?”

“Well…it’s just not exactly appropriate.”

“Why not?”

“Look around you. We’re not in a bar.”

“Oh, so I have to be in a bar in order to talk to you?”

“No, but—”

Photo by Felix Davis

“I don’t get it. Why do you make it so hard for us?”

“Me?”

“You women. All of you. If a man approaches a woman at a bar, he looks like a jerk. If he tries to make conversation on line at a coffee shop, he looks like a creep. If he hangs back and waits for her to make the first move, he looks like a wuss. What am I supposed to do?”

“I still don’t think—”

“I’m just tired of trying to put myself out there and continually getting shot down by uppity cheerleader bimbos who think they’re better than me.”

“Are you calling me a bimbo?”

“No, no, not you! I’m sorry. I know I’ve messed this whole thing up royally by now. Maybe I just don’t have anything to lose anymore.”

“It’s okay. I’m actually a little flattered, to be honest. I just…well, I think you might need to do a little reconnaissance first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, first of all, you might want to think of saying something a little more appropriate to your location.”

“I already told you, I really don’t think I have to only go to bars to pick up women.”

“No, no…it’s just…well, take a look around you. Where are we?”

“A hospital.”

“That’s right. Not exactly the most conducive place to romance.”

“I thought this would for sure be a place to find desperate…er…women who might need a little cheering up.”

“Well…um, okay. But there is one more thing you missed before you came over to speak to me.”

“What’s that?”

“Think about it. You mentioned my legs?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m in a wheelchair.”

“So?”

“Take a closer look. I don’t have legs.”


This week’s Indie Ink Writing Challenge came from The Onion, who gave me this prompt:

write about whatever you like, ONLY using dialogue.

My challenge went out to Andrea, who will answer it by the end of the week here.