Not sure why I didn't post this earlier but I couldn't resist sharing:

It's Saturday and after having my first of too many drinks at 4pm, I found myself at a bar/club around 11pm with some friends. We were standing next to the bar when this gorgeous lady posts up next to me to get a drink. Now, things are a bit fuzzy up to this point, so bear with me. I'm not sure what I said or did to set her off - my friend speculates that I touched her butt, eh, I might have - however, the result was she wound up and...well, she fucking slapped me. Hard. Like really hard. Like, everyone near the bar stopped and collectively gasped hard. She then commenced to light into me verbally, just letting me have it. Stunned, with my cheek searing, I don't exactly recall the words she was yelling but I can guarantee you it was prose of the most colorful character. Apparently, at this point, drunk me recognized it was fight or flight time and apparently drunk me opted fight. Now, a paroxysm of that magnitude waged upon one's cheek tends to snap one back to their senses, so you can rest assured that the following is of fairly high-fidelity. So, while she's still laying into me, I square my shoulders to her, smirk, lift my chin a bit, and sustain direct eye contact. Interrupting her, I say, "I can tell you're really upset with me but I just can't take you seriously unless you do a pissed off girl hair flip." I then pretended to angrily flip my hair in a most absurdly exaggerated fashion. Her eyes shot fire but she had stopped her tirade. I then said, "here, like this," and proceeded to brush a bit of hair away from her face in the same exaggerated manner. Her eyes still burned but fire no longer lashed out. She then said, "like this?" and flipped her hair. I laughed and said, "no, no...you have to really convince me you hate me as much as you say you do." We then, while laughing uncontrollably, got into a competition over who could more dramatically flip their hair. My friends just stood there with their unbelieving mouths agape. I turned to the bartender so she could order a drink and I placed my phone in front of her with the contact screen open. She left and I didn't see her again that night. I messaged her the next day and she didn't respond. I didn't expect her to. I was too drunk to reapproach her or to continue to establish any sort of value. My friend, who was 2 ft away from the entire spectacle, has been telling people that he witnessed a miracle last weekend. I say I was too drunk and missed out on pursuing a fiery vixen. Regardless, going from receiving a brain-jarring slap to getting her number in the span of two minutes has to be one of the ridiculous pickup stories I have.