Dating in gridlock

I slowed for the traffic light. A thirty-something female, jockeying for position to turn right on red, rolled just beyond my Japanese fastback.

The sun was out. Seventies rock was on the radio. The voice in my head had an idea.

She’s hot. Pull up next to her car, roll down your windows, and turn up the radio. I’m telling you, Brent. You’ll score.

I responded, OK. A thirty-something man, I have yet to pick up chicks by blaring classic rock from my car. It only stood to reason that the tactic would work this time around.

I reached over and adjusted the volume. As the music blared, I coasted up alongside my prey, lowered my passenger-side power window, and adjusted my sunglasses.

The attractive thirty-something female turned her head toward me and back to the road ahead of her in one smooth motion. Swiftly activating her right-hand turn signal, she drove off.

Success!

It’s amazing how the voice in my head convinces me, still, to try to get chicks by doing things that don’t get chicks.