Personal favourite: “Would you see yourself sharing a cigarette with me in bed?”
Context: in a parked car sharing a cigarette:
(In case you’re wondering: we never burned the sheets.)
Most recent line: “I told my friend that you and I were going to fuck someday.”
(Lesson: sleeping with your flatmate is never a good idea.)
4.30 am line: “Were you planning on kissing me anytime soon? I need to get my beauty sleep.”
Context: this came after twelve hours of drinking and beating around the bush.
(In case you were wondering: it worked.)
Postal line: “Call me” on the front of a pair of knickers / my number on the back.
Recipient: Dominic Cooper (or his agent).
Context: Dominic Cooper seducing his shy gay teacher in History Boys. Cocky, arrogant, beautiful.
Consequence: I sent Dominic (‘s agent) my underwear with the above-mentioned customising.
(Outcome: he didn’t call. But if I came up over dinner at the Cooper mansion for just a minute, it was worth the five quid the knickers cost, and the stamp too.)
Best steal: “Yes.”
Spoiler: it worked.
Context: in films women say: “kiss me”. All the time. And in films the other person kisses back. All the time. Unless the woman is really ugly. In Kramer vs. Kramer, Mr Kramer’s (Dustin Hoffman) secretary is standing in front of him in his office and she simply “yes”. Hoffman is elsewhere (up his own arse) because his wife (Meryl Streep) has left him and he has to deal with a child (his) he barely knows and he doesn’t remember what women look like naked. So when his sexytary says “yes”, he hasn’t seen it coming.
“Yes, what?” he says distractedly. (Or something like that. I’m quoting from memory.)
“Yes, I’ll have dinner with you tonight.”
Fucking fantastic, I thought. I want to be that woman. So I did it. It’s the 21st century now so I did it on email. We had dinner. Or maybe it was just drinks. It’s the 21st century. The point is it worked: we had sex. I mean: he said yes. And it was definitely to dinner he was saying yes.
Failed line: “kiss me”.
Nickname of receiver of line: “No.”
How he earned his nickname: The clue is in the name. That is what he said to me.
I had assumed, being his friend’s slightly older sister, that he had a crush on me. That is the way these things are supposed to go. No and me were in a bar queuing for drinks for everyone. Thoughtful and uncalculating as I am, I had naturally offered to help poor No. Bored of the long queue, I turned to No and said: “kiss me”.
“No,” he said.
I could not complain to my brother about his friend’s lack of chivalry. Instead, I spent the rest of the evening complaining to one of No’s friends that No had had the cheek to turn down my polite offer of passing the queue time agreeably. No’s friend said I should have asked him.
I buried No (figuratively – I am not that sort of certifiable) but my brother hadn’t. Eventually, my brother volunteered some advice: don’t bother with Italians. The sisters are sacred. Italians don’t have sex with the sisters. You get to wondering: how do Italians manage to reproduce? Something you should know about No. No is Italian. My brother waited for me to put Italians and no-sex together.
I bumped into No randomly one day when I was with friends. Our excessive politeness must have given use away. No had barely turned his back that my friend said: “Was that No?”
What line should I use next? Answers on a postcard. No, wait, it’s the 21st century. Answers in the ‘comments’ box below. Thanking you muchly. I’ll use the best line and report back.