Pack Up the Pick-Up Lines

A Cuban bar is hardly the place youd expect to be picked up by an Irish guy – a pasty, balding Irishman, with an accent stuck somewhere between Dublin and Dullstroom.

The reason I was at said Cuban establishment in the first place was to hopefully land a continental, coffee-skinned export. Someone who knew the words to ‘Guantanamera’… not ‘O Danny Boy’.
And I’d been to this bar before – they had a blow-out launch party a few weeks ago where I had eyed quite a few Latin lovelies.
My expectations were high.
On this night, the bar was packed. And for once in Cape Town, the men outnumbered the women. In one corner, were two poker tables surrounded by a dozen tequila-drinking, cigar-smoking, foreign-sounding hotties.
So why then did the one non-Mediterranean guy pluck up the courage to approach my girlfriend and I? And with a name like Seamus* too?
And to then go ‘I’ve just come back from Ireland and can swear I’ve met you ladies before.’
Riiight. Because both of us were just in Ireland too. What a coincidence. Not!
Call me daft, but at this point I’m not really sure if he’s chatting me up, or my girlfriend. Or worse still, he’s trying his luck with both of us and seeing which one takes the bait.
Guys, a little heads-up: if you’re going to use a pick-up line (and I am in no way recommending that you do), but if you absolutely must, it needs to be original and witty. And should we call you on it, there needs to be a cute, charming personality to make up for it.
As in the case of poor Seamus, even on the backs of four cherry-topped Cuba Libres, the only thing he saw was the backs of these cherries leaving.

*His name wasn’t really Seamus. That would just be too awful. His name was actually Donal.