a) make eye contact
b) wave at them
c) be an incredible drunk dancer while wearing a phenomenal boob shirt
The answer for KFBS is:
During a drunken night at said questionable bar, I was hit on fiercely by the world's scariest lesbian. She is what the love child of Dom Deluise and Bea Arthur would look like-- deep voice, giant stature-- yet portly round, mustache, and all. She brought me a Budweiser (yes, DIESEL!), asked me to dance (at a straight REDNECK bar), then proceeded to ask me for my sexual orientation, phone number, and name in that order. All I could think was... this is my karma kicking my ass for leaving peterpan out to dry when the overzealousredhead attacked.
So, here's my question to you: Where are the good looking people and why don't they hit on me?