(Note: The pizzeria a block from my campus made a typo in an ad published in the school newspaper that morning, advertising that the Greek Special was a “huge 18 inch” male organ instead of a “huge 18 inch pizza”. Note that I am a guy of Iranian descent.)

Pretty Girl: “One Greek Special, please.” *giggles and gestures to the ad*

Clerk: “Miss, as I’ve been explaining to everyone, there’s a typo in that ad.”

Pretty Girl: “In that case, one slice of pepperoni.”

(Three fraternity boys nearby walk over to the pretty girl.)

Frat boys: “Between us, we can give you the real Greek Special.”

Pretty Girl: “I’m not into that! Try your line elsewhere.”

(I’ve been in line behind her this entire time, and overhear the exchange. After I get my pizza, I walk over to her.)

Me: “How about I give you an Iranian special instead? Two hours of listening and afterwards you can rest your head on my chest and snuggle until you fall asleep.”

Pretty Girl: *laughs* “I’ll take it!”

(We dated for the next 4 months.)