Disclaimer:

Before the gentlemen start backing cautiously toward the exit, let me acknowledge the obvious: this works both ways. I’ve known women who used men as a meal ticket. I can’t write their field guide because I haven’t been on the receiving end of it. The Cringe Catalog is always accepting new submissions! Comments open! 😂

The Cringe Catalog: Lounge Lizards in the Wild

I’ve been hit on more often than a piñata — and unlike a piñata, I don’t hand out prizes. In my twenties, I didn’t find it nearly as entertaining. The approaches were awkward and occasionally deserving of an intervention.

Decades later, the lounge lizards have simply aged. The delivery is slower. The material has changed. The mating ritual remains intact.

And dear Lord, do I have stories.

Field Research: The Cruise Ship Lizard

On a recent solo cruise, I encountered the floating lounge lizard.  

I was sitting in the Euphoria Lounge aboard the MAS Paradise when a gentleman approached. No hello. No conversation. Just:

“Pucker up, Hot Lips.”

I replied:

“I’m sure my lip gloss has higher standards.”

And just like that… Hot Lips was denied landing clearance.

Field Notes: Stronger alcohol may be required to erase the visual.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎🦎🦎

Rule #1: Befriend the Bartender

Years ago, my friend Margaret and I went dancing at a nightclub in Delaware. Four engineers from work spotted us. Their leader, John, was an overconfident lothario.

Drinks began appearing behind us — Kamikazes, ordered eagerly.

Then the bartender tapped my shoulder.

“They’re trying to get you drunk.”

He’d seen this act before.

“I’m making your drinks virgin. I’ll tap you and hand you the virgin one.”

The engineers kept ordering. Margaret and I kept “drinking.” We remained perfectly sober.

When we left, we walked straight across the parking lot in three‑inch heels. The engineers staggered behind us. One lunged into my car window — apparently failing to notice it was still up.

Thunk. Forehead met glass. Engineer met pavement.

The next morning, John reported to my boss that I had “drunk them under the table.” I accepted the compliment. No need to correct the record.

Bartenders see everything. Make friends with them. Tip accordingly.

Rule #2: Never Reward a Bad Opening Line

The Computer Geek

Line: “Are you a keyboard? Because I think you’re my type.”
Comeback: “Delete.”      
Field Notes: Terrible. Unfortunately, I laughed.
Survival Rating: 🦎

The Romantic Optimist

Line: “Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
Comeback: “No, walk away and don’t reproduce. The gene pool has suffered enough.”
Field Notes: Ancient material. Points for commitment.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎

The Technologically Challenged

Line: “My phone’s broken. It doesn’t have your number in it.”
Comeback: “My phone filed a restraining order.”
Field Notes: Technology has spoken.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎

The One Who Almost Pulled It Off

Line: “You seem like trouble. I’m in.”
Comeback: “Okay. Sign the waiver. And buy me a drink.”
Field Notes: Risk acknowledged. Application conditionally approved.
Survival Rating: 🦎 Enough alcohol — that one might actually work.

Rule #3: When Necessary, Return Fire

One evening, the office cad wandered over to my barstool with a plan.

Line: “You get three wishes.”

I took a slow sip of wine.  
           
Comeback: “How about I wish you were gone?”
Field Notes: He gave me three wishes. I only needed one.                 
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎🦎🦎

Rule #4: Never Underestimate Audacity

The Opportunist

Line: “I looked at you and lost my train of thought. I think you owe me a beer.”
Comeback: “Your system failed, and I get a bar tab?”
Field Notes: Cheap‑date warning. Payment denied. 
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎

The Optimist

Line: “Ooh la la… I think you need to date me.”
Comeback: “Sorry. I don’t date for community service hours.”
Field Notes: Confidence exceeded market value.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎

The Straight Shooter

Line: “How about we finish these drinks and start making bad decisions together?”
Comeback: “Do you have references?”
Field Notes: Refreshingly honest. References requested. Decision pending.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎🦎

Rule #5: Escape Routes & Strategic Seating

Years of traveling solo taught me that location matters. I prefer an end seat at a bar — easy access to the bartender, clear view of the room, and most importantly, an unobstructed escape route.

Know the exits. Carry a crossbody purse. And never underestimate the tactical value of landscaping. A strategically placed palm can provide valuable cover.

Rule #6: Master the Art of No

Not every Lounge Lizard requires tactical deployment.

Level 1 — Polite: “No, thank you.”
Level 2 — Firm: “I’m good.”
Level 3 — Warning Shot: “I’m allergic to whatever you’re selling.”
Level 4 — Return Fire: “That line needed a helmet.”
Level 5 — Final Notice: “We’re done here.”

Being friendly never obligates you to entertain anyone. A drink doesn’t buy your phone number.

Rule #7: Know When It Turns Toxic

You moved. He followed. This is important scientific data: the specimen has failed to comprehend the escape attempt.

Change tactics. Be direct. Move toward the staff. If he follows you outside, recruit backup.

Rule #8: When the Rating Scale Breaks

Corporate America unleashed a new species: The Professional Lounge Lizard.

One particular boss — married, self‑proclaimed ladies’ man — once blocked my exit, looked down at me suggestively, and said:

“You look delicious today.”

I blinked. Hard.

Then he added:

“I never eat anything strange unless she’s really worth it.”

My brain refused to process the incoming data.

Actual Comeback: “That was totally inappropriate.”
Field Notes: This behavior escalates. Request reassignment.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎
Some comments deserve their own HR file.

Rule #9: A Pickup Line Does Not Require a Participation Trophy

The Migratory Lounge Lizard

Recently, I was walking across a Walmart parking lot when a man noticed me from a distance. He followed me inside.

Line: “You have the sexiest walk I’ve ever seen. I had to follow you all the way in the door.”
Interrogation: “Are you single?” “Available?” “Can I have your number?”
Comeback: “No, that would be a hard pass.”

He persisted.

Line:  “Can I hug you?”
Comeback: “For what?! You’re about to shop alone.”
Field Notes: Crossing the entire parking lot does not earn a participation trophy.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎🦎
Final Disposition: Return this specimen to the wild.

Rule #10: When Subtlety Fails, Remove All Ambiguity

And then there was Mike, the Neighboring Lounge Lizard. Unfortunately, this specimen lived in the same apartment building.

After a group happy hour where Mike supplied the wine and charcuterie—and then counted how many pieces each of us ate—the red flags began multiplying.

Eventually, he approached me in the parking lot.

Line:  “I want to take you to lunch.”
Comeback:  “No, I’m not interested.”

“You’re not interested in lunch… or me?”

He requested clarification.   So I gave it to him.

“Neither.”

Field Notes:  Persistent specimen. Failed to respond to normal deterrents.
Survival Rating: 🦎🦎🦎🦎🦎
Final Disposition: Long-term habitat management required. Do not feed the wildlife.

Final Field Notes

Most Lounge Lizards are harmless. They are funny, charming, and painfully corny. A rare few are clever enough to make you laugh despite yourself. And some should never be permitted to open their mouths after the first cocktail.

But here’s the most useful lesson:

You can be friendly without being available. You can laugh without encouraging. You can say no without apologizing. And you can enjoy a bar, restaurant, nightclub, or cruise ship lounge by yourself without owing anyone else a seat at your table.

Sometimes a polite smile is enough. Sometimes you move. Sometimes you recruit the bartender. And occasionally… You return fire.

I truly believed I’d wrapped up my Lounge Lizard study. Then the universe whispered, “Hold my cocktail.”

A new specimen opened his mouth, and out tumbled fresh, premium-grade nonsense.

Naturally, I reached for my field notes. 

Part of the Reflections Series