ll right, all right, no weepy sentiments. No talk of frustration, anger, despair. For now, as for every Thursday, there is only Truth or Dare. Or, as I like to call it, “Truth or Truth.”

Q: What’s the worst way you’ve ever been picked up?
(reader-submitted question, not taken from “Truth or Dare: Pajama Party” game)

A: Girls and beer commericals seem to have an endless stream of bad pick-up lines which they insist are used all the time. Either they’re lying, or I’m ugly—I’ve never heard anyone use those stupid chestnuts. The times I have been picked up, it went something like this.

Me: Are you, like, trying to pick me up?
Him: Umm, maybe.
Me: Okay. Cool.

Sometimes, somewhere in the middle, I spill a drink.

The worst line was probably the first line I ever heard, and considering I was 13, it’s not surprising I fell for it. I was standing on the porch with a guy on whom I had a whopping adolescent crush. He asked, “Would you ever kiss a guy with dip in his mouth?”

I didn’t know what dip was. I thought he meant a delicious ranch dressing or a tangy salsa. I said yes, and I can still remember the shock of it: something like dirt and wet ash.

But I learned my lesson: I never fell for that line again.