Jason Unrau
Northern News Services

Inuvik (Nov 11/05) - Every guy knows at least one or two and every guy - usually in some state of alcohol-induced bravery - has used them at least once or twice in a clumsy effort to, well, you know, hook up with a member of the female species at bars and pubs across this great land.

In Inuvik, no group of gals experiences the flaccid and, in 99.9 per cent of the cases, cheesy pickup lines more than the fine serving staff of the Finto Lounge (the other .01 per cent garnering perhaps a funny-ha-ha reaction).

"One time I went to take this guy's order and he says, 'Drop the menu,'" recalled one Finto server of the worst she'd ever heard. "So I do it. Then he says, 'Stand on it,' so I do it. Then he says 'I want what's on the menu.'"

So do you have any more you want to share with the Drum?

"There's only like a hundred," she answered, rolling her eyes. "They usually just slide off my back. Like every other comment, you get used to it."

When asked whether there might be a particular customer-type who doles out this kind of cheese on a predictable basis, all servers interviewed agreed it was completely unpredictable.

"Some people shock you, even the dad-types, you know, that mild-mannered older gentleman who'll come out with a zinger," said one.

Servers the Drum spoke to also agreed that lines came from a 50/50 ratio of residents to out-of-towners. Everything from downright lewd innuendos to the played-and-played-again, classic-rock equivalent of the pickup line has graced the ears of this group.

"You see, I'm a vegetarian," said one lady referring to the lewd side of things. "So if that comes up you can usually guarantee some kind of, uh, meat reference."

On the tried-and-not-so-true side of the pick-up line, there's this classic:

"At closing time, this one guy asks me if I'd like to go for breakfast in the morning and without waiting for an answer he says, 'Should I call you or nudge you?'" offered another server.

So is there any defence for this?

"Not really, we just hold our tongues," agreed the Finto ladies. "We know which side our bread is buttered on."

Bread? Buttered? Oh, never mind.