Listen dudes, I know you probably think it's a good idea to walk up to a cute girl after last call, because you're probably hoping that she's drunk and willing to go home with you to blow you in your mom's basement...but here's a tip:
Don't do it to me.
No, really. I'm on to you.
Here's a little tidbit from an exchange I had last Friday with one of said dudes to scare you away:
Hopeful Douchebag wearing striped sweater: "Hey ladies."
Me: "What's up, Stripes?"
Hopeful Douchebag wearing striped sweater: "Stripes? Why you gotta call me Stripes?"
Me: "I don't know what the fuck your name is."
Ok, yes, I was mildly inebriated.
But the point is this: I know what you're after. I'm not into it.
Maybe next time you'll come up to me as soon as I walk in the door, tell me I'm pretty and you like my leggings, insist on buying me cran-vodkas all night, and then politely hint that you'd like me to blow you in your mom's basement.
You know, like a gentleman.