You know the situation: You're stuffed into Tuesday night's "it" bar in a manner reminiscent to Tokyo subway riders (insert sushi joke here) when, out of the Axe-infused stench that is the dance floor, PPC (Pink Popped Collar) approaches.
You'd rather be asexual than do anything remotely sexual with this Walgreen's brand douche. What's a girl (or guy, we don't judge) to do?
1. Pretend you don't speak English, Spanish, Ebonics" whatever the case may be.
2. Scratch your crotch. Not in a fleeting mosquito bite sort of scratch, but an "I've-got-chicken-pox-in-my-puss" itch.
3. Simply twitch and bark as if you have Tourettes. (WARNING: Not always 100% successful, as some may confuse the spasms as simply your way of interpreting "London Bridge.")
4. Stab them in the heart with your chandelier earring; it was your roommate's anyway ("Sorry 'bout that dried blood, Susie!").
5. Drug their drink, wait until they pass out, then step over them and head home Macaulay Culkin-style.
6. "Hey, can I buy you a drink?" "I'm waiting for marriage."
DISCLAIMER: We cannot be held responsible if the following replies occur: "I hear Cortisone really helps the chaffing," or "OMG, I tic and shout out obscenities, too!"