"Can I borrow this seat?"
The single greatest response a man can receive from a woman to this question was issued to me last night at 5am in a Grafton St McDonalds.
"Only if you sit here."
People don't pull in nightclubs see. We've all been fooled. Posters on their website and rap videos may suggest otherwise but we all know the place for business is the late night diner.
Serving the needs of customers in more ways than one since nightclubs were invented, the late night diner has been the cornerstone of match making for generations.
Daylight breaking on Sunday morning, mating season is in full swing. Drunk, hungry, lonely, horny, it's last chance saloon for many. But fear not because this last chance is also your best chance.
As the coke sticked floor attaches you to your seat, people don't care anymore. They don't care that they look a state. They don't care anymore that this person in front of them is a completely different age. All they care about is having something, *anything* to show for their night's efforts.
Your courage kicks in too. "Give us your number." A statement which seems so far from your lips only an hour earlier is now flung about the room with consummate ease. Hail Mary, we need a touchdown and sometimes we get it. The number. The kiss. The lot? Ok well never the lot. But either way it's a result.
The troubled faces, the head shakes, the back turns and all the other nightclub rejections are now a distant memory.
The late night diner saved the day.