Chat-Up "Would you like some chewing gum?" I stare at this stranger for longer than slightly necessary. The Mojito induced room-spin coupled with those nauseating club lights make me wobble on the spot. Trying to focus (especially without my glasses; I don't feel the need for full HD on nights out) is a struggle. Pulling all my senses together I look into the pleading eyes of this boy in front of me. "Pardon?" "Would you like some chewing gum?" "Ummmmm..." My mind does a somersault, and not in a good way. In a vomit-y way. I notice the receding hair line, the drips of sweat, the far-too-eager stalker smile. "No, not really." I do my best 'not interested ' voice, like I'm out in the rain, miserable and cold, just been splashed by a car. "That's a shame. You could have had the piece in my mouth." Genuinely pleased with himself, stalker-face stared waiting for me to change my mind. My Mojito decided to re-appear as my faith in men and their intelligence elegantly side steps out the door.