I believe everyone out there has a definitive move to use in the case of sealing the deal. Usually, a direct exhibition of one’s desires works, or sometimes it’s a subtle, systematic approach that utilizes making the desired target believe the idea to accompany you home has generated from their psyche. However, whatever the move or approach, an individual often needs a brother or sister-in-arms to support them in their journey to achieve maximum booty. Truly legendary stories of taking someone home will always include a trusty wingman, wingwoman, or wingcouple (actually a very effective resource in this particular quest).

The trick here is simplicity, and not to rely too heavily on complex rituals of the pickup. But few often heed these words, so I’ve tried here to compile some advice on what not to do as a respectable, respective wingperson.

First, never jack up the expectations of the person you are wingmanning for. Your job as wingman is not to set the standard of the evening impossibly high, or else you’ll risk being blamed for a boring, uneventful evening. Any embarrassing business after that moment will be on your head, and unless you like being the worst of bros, you’ll take caution in managing the future outlook of any night on the town.

Also, this goes for the targets chosen. A chill approach wins, not the other way around. Setting sights very, very high is a lot of pressure for you, wingperson (the trust of a fellow hunter is highly tenuous). Set achievable goals (without sounding like as much of an asshat as I am at present).

As much as this pains me to say, pyramidal, crazy schemes a la sitcoms probably won’t help that much. I wish that staging a fake breakup in a crowded bar worked, but unfortunately everyone ever has seen all the same television programs as you have and super theatrical things will be seen as such. I’ve yet to try anything this crazy, but if I ever do I’ll most likely report its utter failure (and related sense of depression).

Similarly, stay away from pretending to be some predatory douche jockey, only to create a situation in which the target (I may receive some angry letters for this terminology, but I’m furthering the satire!) must be rescued. Sure, if done beautifully the person at the receiving end of said theatrics will be grateful, but probably easily realize the depths of deception being plunged in this here maneuver. A buddy of mine once tried to help me chat someone up pretending his name was Tom Riddle (…in hindsight, he may have just been being a dick).

My genius colleague, The Cyprus Experiment, clued me in as well to another practice that should be off limits, and that is being super, super bro-ey and “vanilla ice”-like in your wingman duties. No one will want to meet the creature you are presenting if said human, like you, spouts words like “represent” in an unappealing, beach baritone. At least, this behavior should be cited as extremely un-classy and loathsome. If you are going to cite the bro trope, at least keep with current trends and try to become the good bro (for reference, see my TV reviews, or ask our lord Google).

Finally, never set your sights on the same lady as another friend (this goes for you too, ladies), because in actuality, there are so damn many human specimens all around, it’s not worth getting into a dibs fight (again, only really ends in comedy on sitcoms). If you are playing the wingperson, allow your bro or lady bro to make eyes with someone first, then scan for other suitors. As a wingperson, your destiny and future greatness depend on your friend making it with someone, so your first allegiance should be to him or her. Don’t cuckold a member of your pack, you possible butt.

And don’t ever, ever, stare into your friend’s eyes, say the words, “I got you covered bro,” and brandish a flavored condom. Weird, dude.