Next time your are on the subway, pull your headphones out of your ears and listen. Even at rush hour, nobody is talking. As soon as they step on the train, people get Tin Can Syndrome – they don’t want to talk because they can’t leave the area (see also: elevators).

I’ve tried subway pickups only a few times before, with mild success. Five attempts has netted me three #-closes, one of whom I f-closed.

There is no real tried-and-true method that I stick to when solo on the subway, as you have to play off the surroundings – a conversation is unlikely to have sticking power if you start it as a non-sequitur. Things get a lot easier, however, if you have a wing like I did.

Quick aside: my boss is an awesome guy. He’s older, married, and reliving his youth through my stories. He loves to hear about my pickup and will always wing me if we’re somewhere together. We take the same train home at the end of the day, so he jumped in as my wing.

Boss pointed her out to me, as any wingman knows to do. In all honesty, I think he was just eager to see if I could pull off a subway pickup. Challenge Accepted. HB7 was some sort of indeterminable ethnicity – olive skin, dark hair, maybe Israeli?

I went with a classic opener as the train was leaving our station. I sat in the seat next to her and pretended I was on the tail end of a disagreement with Boss.

“She’s wrong and you know it, man. Anybody with the smallest bit of common sense would agree. Here, watch.” Turning to HB7, I said, “Back me up here. His wife isn’t let him accept his college girlfriend’s friend request. Is she being a typical crazy woman?”

“That’s kind of a loaded question.”

“Well I’m trying to prove I’m right. I’m not trying to play fair.” As I say this, Boss takes a seat on the bench opposite, about fifteen feet away, which may as well be a mile for NY subways. He’s done his job and ejected.

She laughs, though not assertively. A shy smile and almost-inaudible snort coupled with bowing her slightly forward – you know what I mean. A girl’s laugh, besides often acting as IOI number one, opens a door for a PUA to introduce a neg.

“You have a very understated laugh.” What the hell is that even supposed to mean? No idea, but that’s what I said. I delivered it as a neg, and it landed as one.

Qualifying herself: “I just don’t want to laugh out loud on the subway! I’ll look like an idiot!”

“Well, are you an idiot?” I ask her playfully.

“No! I go to Columbia and blablabla – ”

I cut her off by initiating kino with a hand on her forearm, “Easy, killer. I was just teasing.”

She brushes her hair behind her ear on the side closer to me, another IOI. We shoot the shit for a while (I need to start recording things if I want to remember what I say). The whole time we’re talking, I’m on autopilot, trying to figure out how I’ll close this. I decide to go with a move I’ve developed after countless morning commutes.

Nobody enjoys commuting, but subway commutes can be especially difficult – no cell reception. I used to play a game on my phone or read a book, but lately I’ve taken to a new hobby – stop predicting. Try it sometime. Watch how often a person looks at the signs telling what stop is next, where they stand, what direction they face, where their bag is, and if they are looking for a way through the bodies to get off the train. With a bit of gut feeling, you can predict four or five people that are going to be getting off at the next stop.

She reached down during our conversation to pick up the handles of her bag, and looked at the train’s status sign. I knew she was getting off at the next stop, one short of me.

I interrupted her sentence, saying, “This next stop is mine, but it was great meeting you. Maybe we’ll see each other again.”

“Oh! This is my stop too.” She says. Bingo.

“The MTA gods must be telling us something, and you don’t want to upset them. Let’s grab some coffee.” When I said this, I repeated my forearm kino from earlier.

“Okay. I don’t want to piss off the MTA gods.”

We get coffee uneventually, during which we exchange names and she gives me her number. As we walk out the door, it keep eye contact for a few seconds, which I had been intermittently withholding for the entire pickup. She keeps the eye contact.

“You want to kiss me right now, don’t you?” Tried and true, boys. You may have used the line two dozen times, but she’s never heard it.

When I delivered it, HB7 had a reaction I’ve never seen before. I’ve heard girls say “No”. I’ve heard them say “I don’t know”. I’ve even heard them flat-out say “yes”. But she didn’t even say anything. She just nodded slowly, still holding the eye contact. I k-closed, pulled away, and ejected.

Thoughts on the subway pickup: It’s not for the faint of heart. You are going to be stuck in that train at least until the next stop, and starting conversations on the subway is not normal. I recently met a 5-set of girls from Mississippi State that opened me on the subway (I was wearing my college hoodie). I told them, “You know how I know you aren’t from New York? You talk to people on the subway.”

That being said, the Tin Can Syndrome gives the PUA a chance to stand apart in the field. HB7 is probably approached a few times a day, but I doubt anyone ever does on the subway.

I think there are improvements that can be made to the subway pickup. I usually lean pretty heavily on eye contact, but that isn’t possible when you are sitting next to someone on the subway. Standing in front of her would be too intimidating. I’m sure there’s a solution for this, and I intend to find it.

Until then, happy hunting!