BILLIONAIRE media magnate Rupert Murdoch is marrying again aged 92, due to these seduction techniques guaranteed to work in any branch of JD Wetherspoons:
Step one: get in early
Wetherspoons starts early, so you have to. When I’m out to get lucky at The Last Post in Southend-on-Sea, I’m there with a Fosters in hand no later than 7.20am.
The birds aren’t there that early, only the drinkers, but it means you secure the prime pulling location. Table 34, right outside the ladies’ dunny. From there you can scope every piece coming in or out and ready your quips. You could be balls-deep before Lorraine.
Step two: get to know the staff
Nobody in The Ernest Willows in Cardiff knows that I run News Corp, with a turnover of $10bn, but a nod from the duty manager Carol makes me look like real hot shit. Relative values.
Step three: bring pound coins
Women love a winner. So when you’re in The Weeping Ash in St Neots, saunter over to the fruity and start firing quids in. Before long you’ll have attracted chicks, and after a pitcher of Strawberry Delight you’ll be fingering her against the side of the Deal Or No Deal machine. Jackpot.
Step four: send chips to their table
Got a particular dame on your mind? Use the Spoons app on your phone to order a bowl of chips, direct to their table, and wave and wink when they’re dropped off. When she beckons you over, say ‘Need some mayo for those?’ and slap out two sachets of Hellmans’s and your phone number written on a discarded Ladbrokes slip.
Step five: don’t get too shitfaced
It’s too easy to get drunk in a Wethers. It costs piss-all, even for Sun readers. But you try necking some tart in the Counting House, Dundee when your beef madras is sitting uneasily on six pints of Guinness, and you won’t want to do it twice. Have a fag between each one at least.
Step six: Tell them you know Tim Martin
He might look like a tattered, racist scarecrow, but nothing excites the lasses in Spoons like telling them you know the gaffer. Hint that Brexit Tim is a close personal friend of yours and you’re already doing her from behind against the bins round the back of the Six Chimneys, Wakefield in minutes. No, I’ve never met him. I wouldn’t lower myself.