When it comes to lies I tell to impress women, none of them work better than the old deep-sea diver routine. In one short sentence, I go from “random shlub in unflattering khakis” to “rugged international man of adventure”. And since most people are not deep-sea divers, the chances I’ll get called out are slim. If you’re going to practice this approach to capturing the great white female (no racial preference implied – I’m drawing a Moby Dick parallel here, and believe me, I dig all chicks equally), just follow these guidelines.

The right lingo. Be sure to drop lots of cryptic talk about “back gas” and “feeding the fish” and “riding the hook” and “the Dry Tortugas.” Memorize this sentence: “It was snotty out there, but I nabbed some legal bugs before I shot a bag for a floating deco.” What does it all mean? It means you’re a hotshot scuba jockey that the other person would like to get to know, that’s what.

The right accent. It doesn’t matter which one. If you’re in the States, a French accent will do wonders, thanks to the whole Cousteau thing. If you’re in France, lay on the California surfer brogue. The important thing is, you’re from somewhere else. Women love that. (Developing a stable of convincing accents will also help with some of the other great romantic fakeouts, like “Spy”, “Art-Movie Director”, and “Soccer Star Who Is Huge In Europe, As Far As You Know”.)

The right attire. Leave the swim fins and the air tanks at home. No sense in laying it on too thick. But some subtle visual reinforcement of your undersea exploits is definitely called for. I wear the National Geographic Pioneer Series DiveMaster Watch just a few inches from where I had that fake sharkbite scar tattooed on. It’s got all kinds of diving-oriented features on it, including a depth meter, water thermometer, and elapsed time chronograph. More importantly, the dome-shaped face and black-and-yellow band look all dive-y and stuff. Play it right and this watch won’t just help you keep time, it’ll help you make time.

So there you go. And oh, yeah, remember that dolphins aren’t actually fish. That one got me in trouble one time. Take this advice and I promise you, you’ll soon be doing the breast-stroke on dry land.

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