He's bad with people, good with pigs.
When sows and hogs wear coats and wigs,
His chat-up lines, he practises.
Real women are like cactuses.

He's afraid of being hurt
By a cactus in a skirt.
Their presence always makes him sweat
Until his clothes are dripping wet.

His brother says, "Just play it cool.
Chicks will dig a total fool.
What you say can be pure shite,
But talk as if a blinding light

"Shines from where you're speaking it.
It beats intelligence and wit.
The way you walk and wear your threads
Speaks volumes of your past in beds.

"So strut and talk relentless tosh.
And it would do no harm to wash.
Your self-belief should always ooze.
And buy her large amounts of booze."

So he decides to roll the dice
And use his brother's new advice.
It's written down within his brain.
In the pub he meets Elaine.

He struggles to look in her eyes,
But then her smile's a nice surprise.
It feels like he's just cleared a fence.
He talks to her with confidence.

"Unlike so many other men,
I'd avoid eye-contact when
I'm meeting human people here.
The struggle fades with time and beer.

"If I should meet with Stephen Hawking
In the park while he's out 'walking',
After saying 'ciao' or 'hi'
Should I look him in the eye

"As Hawking talks with his machine?
Would it be rude to read his screen?
While he talks would it be rude
To look above this chair-bound dude?

"But even if we met some day
He might not have that much to say
To someone who looks plagued by fleas.
He wouldn't waste his batteries."

She nods her head and holds the smile,
And says she has to leave a while.
He looks like he's just seen the light.
His brother was completely right.