The Pick-Up

I recently had the opportunity to talk to a "professional" writer/comedian, and was currious to find out from him, if in fact, people who's profession it is to come up with witty remarks, are indeed better at picking up women then the rest of us. Here's what he had to say:

Women keeping telling me, “You’re a writer, you’re a comedian, you must have great pick-up lines. How can someone whose job it is to come up with clever one-liners, NOT have great pick-up lines?” The part they miss, is that when I see a girl I want to approach, I have to go home first and brain storm, work out a few different bits, rehearse them, re-write them, call my editor, find out their all shit, start from scratch, call my manager who’ll set a few pitches and lunches with producers, meet with a director who’ll tell me he’s “interested” but it isn’t the type of material he’s looking for right now, get drunk, feel sorry for myself, swear to god I’m quitting the business, visit my shrink, complain to him about the state of global politics, meet with a writer-friend who brags about the six-figure development deal he just signed at SONY, go home and sift through old ideas, hoping to find something commercial enough to sell, fly to some shit little town were I give a seminar on screenwriting to a bunch of eager young Mamet-wannabes, get home at mid-night on a Sunday, sit down on the toilet, take a shit, and it’s usually in this moment, as I’m staring at the imperfection of the plaster on the wall above the toilet paper dispenser, for the umpteenth time, that I come up with the most perfect (in my mind) line that I could have used. Of course, at this point, it’s a week later and when I go back to the bar I was at and start looking for the girl I was checking out, I find that she isn’t sitting at that booth anymore and although I stand outside the women’s bathroom, pathetically hoping she just stepped off to powder her nose, I never, ever see her again. So THAT’S why, I don’t have very good pick-up lines. Of course, next Friday I go out, again, and see someone else, at which point I’ve completely forgotten what ever happened.