My sign is hazardous materials

I know that my three female readers were expecting the fourth part of our series on the flirting process. Unfortunately, several desperate non-optional bachelors wrote me bemoaning the fact that they haven’t even been able to get past the dreaded first step of Stage 3 ("Small talk," a.k.a. "Words get in the way"), which is… (cue creepy music)… the pickup line. There was even one deluded soul who was so inspired by my holiday pickup lines that he came up with one of his own ("Would you like to roast some chestnuts on an open fire?"). I failed to mention in my previous column though that those holiday pickup lines were only meant to be used if you were missing part of your brain.

Since pickup lines often lead to debilitating injury, it is no wonder that men suffer from pickup line "angst." This is the same type of angst that men experience while waiting in line for a prostrate exam. If this is the case, then what is the first step that men can take to rid themselves of this angst, aside from wearing crotch protection?

Pickup lines will always fall flatter than punch lines on Jojo Alejar’s All The Way show because they are meant to be jokes, and horribly conceived ones at that. According to A Failure’s Guide to Flirting, pickup lines are only meant to be used as a source of amusement among your barkada and your female friends who use you for money. But they should not be inflicted on those possessing the "XX" chromosome unless you are into sadomasochism.

This is something I wish I had known when I still had a complete set of chestnuts.

There is a caveat: You should encourage your barkada to use a pickup line on a woman only if you secretly, really hate him (especially if he was the one who made out with the girl you were courting in high school when he already had a girlfriend. Yes, that jerk.).

Realizing this, I have had difficulty changing my approach with pickup lines. I always thought that there was a Priory of Scion-type committee of women that had a scoring system that judged the quality of pickup lines based on originality, wit and sexual depravity. The more double meanings you could stuff into a pickup line, the better. After all, those types of lines always seemed to work in porn movies. Perhaps we shouldn’t think of these opening statements as pickup lines since the only thing that men will pick up, aside from their teeth and/or dentures, is their ego crushed and crumpled in a fetal position on the floor. The term "pickup line" by itself often leads men to thinking that there exists an elusive set of word combinations which, when properly applied, will unlock not only a female’s sound judgment, but her undergarments as well. But unfortunately, pickup lines are like administration congressmen: they take things too far, too much and too fast.

A more life-saving way to approach an opening line is to think of them as icebreakers. And hopefully the next time you break ice with live women, you won’t go down faster than the Titanic. The Shy Guy’s Guide to Dating tells us that an effective way to approach Venusians is to pretend that you are role-playing with them but without telling them what role they are playing. But men, just because you aren’t telling the woman what role she is playing, it doesn’t mean that you make her play a grade school teacher to your "Boy Bastos." The key to role-playing is to exercise restraint. Remember that when you approach a woman for the first time, she will always presume that you are coming on to her. Or that you are a network marketer. So when you approach her, you have to make her think that you are neutered.

The Shy Guy’s Guide recommends that you play the role of the "Clueless Boy" while the unwitting accomplice plays the role of the "Information Girl." As "Clueless Boy," your job is to convince yourself that you are not really coming on to her. Instead, you are merely requesting some piece of information that she can easily give to you. The information that you seek should not require one-word answers that need no follow-up ("Do you know what time 7-Eleven closes?") or that require a simple yes or no ("Are those for real?"). These should be questions that are innocuous and lead themselves to further conversation. It doesn’t matter whether you really need the information or if you already know the answer to the question. What matters is that you are desperate.

And if she can feel your desperation, she just might be willing enough to give you the information while not thinking that you are just a pathetic loser who hasn’t had a date since he took his first cousin to the junior-senior prom (although, in fairness, she did look hot).

Here are some samples of icebreakers that are as harmless as an MMDA traffic violation ticket:

Sucking up. After several years of Pavlovian conditioning and sensory deprivation experiments, my girlfriend has trained me to compliment her with sincerity. You see, women expect men to be compliment-disbursing machines, especially when the woman has spent hours getting ready for a gimmick night out. Make sure that the comment is not generic enough so that she sees through your shallow façade ("Hey, I like the way that you shaved your legs") or so specific that she might think that you are playing for the other team ("I just love the color of your eyeshadow, is that from Ever Bilena?"). If you think you’re Mr. Suave, then you may want to gush over her sex appeal without sounding tasteless ("I love the way that your blouse exposes just a bit of your cleavage").

Time’s up. Some men argue that "Do you have the time?" is still a viable opening line. That is true. If this were still 1975. This is the reason why the only men who still use this icebreaker have protruding waistlines, retreating hairlines and, worst of all, pleated pants. But in 2007, when a man approaches a woman across a crowded bar to ask her for the time – knowing full well that he could have asked any person attached to his cellphone for this information – he better have an icebreaker that is smoother than Vic Sotto. So to prevent Information Girl from screaming "Stalker!" the Man From 1975 may want to rely on this updated icebreaker: "Do you have the correct time?" At least she will be initially amused, give you the correct time, then proceed to scream "Stalker!!"

Screwed up. Another suggestion is to flatter Information Girl with the "Aren’t you a celebrity?" ploy (i.e., "Hi Angelica! I can’t believe how sexy you were in your calendar. It’s really amazing nowadays how you can create special effects on your computer."). If that icebreaker is way too obvious, you can try the "Don’t I know you from somewhere?" ploy. For example, "Weren’t we classmates in college?" is a pretty safe icebreaker unless you discover that she went to an all-girls school. But if you want an innocent-sounding yet compelling icebreaker, it is the "Mistaken identity" ploy (i.e., "Hi, aren’t you Vanessa?"). This icebreaker is so old they found it etched on cave paintings, but hey, it still works better than most government agencies. In fact, this icebreaker allows you to discreetly interrogate her on her personal life (i.e., "What are your vital statistics? How much money do you make? Do you have child-bearing hips?").

Unfortunately, if the woman realizes that you "mistook" her on purpose, she will break your balls harder than Efren "Bata" Reyes.

What’s up. If you can’t think of anything else to ask Information Girl you can always ask about her choice of food ("Hey, that’s a good choice for a Value Meal. Do you want to Supersize it?") or her accent ("That is an interesting accent, is that from the Bisayas, from the call center or from d’jologs?") or even her scent ("That’s an interesting odor, how often do you bathe?").

Give up. When you can’t think of anything else to say, then there’s no shame in being pathetic. ("Please, my mommy will get mad at me if I don’t get your cellphone number. She will throw me out of the house because the last date I had was with my first cousin.")

Even if none of these icebreakers works on "Information Girl," there is still an upside to thinking that you are the "Clueless Boy." Even if you try the most clever icebreaker on her ("Don’t you find it strange when total strangers come up to you in a bar and introduce themselves?") and she stares at you in horrified silence, throws her drink in your face, pounds you with her 15-pound handbag, and finally asks the bouncers to drag you out of the bar by your pink parts, you can comfort yourself with the thought that you weren’t really hitting on her. After all, you were just asking her a question. She might not even think that you were desperate. She will just think that you were stupid.

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For comments, suggestions or if you’ve invented the Shazam of pickup lines, please e-mail ledesma.rj@gmail.com or visit www.rjledesma.com.