There she is again. That girl that you really like. That one you have such a good rapport with, that you see every day in Libe Café when she orders an iced skim vanilla latte (this is me putting a mundane, over-ordered drink by the majority of female café customers to make a random reader think that I am writing this article solely about them … or am I?) or that you share your text message joke-of-the-day with every week at your Cornell Cheese Club Exec Board Meeting.

A smile, a wave, a friendly word, a laugh. You bought her a drink at the bar last Whateverday and extended her an invite to your pre-game on Thatotherday. She even showed up for 10 minutes (Alone! Yes! She really likes you!). But then she was gone. What now?

“Let’s think, I’ve got to take this slow … 3 a.m. text message? No, no … too formal.” The only other way to further to profess your love to her, without quarter-carding it on Ho Plaza or announcing it over the Cornell Emergency Alert System, would be dropping that crush party crush or — gasp, don’t say it! — formal invite.

“Oh, but I don’t want to look desperate! I’ll just bring my friend, the sex columnist, and maybe he’ll hear about it and be jealous and make his move on me instead of me stressing about what to do next. Yeah! Good move, me! Sex columnists love formals!”

It can be pretty easy to forget how to interact and take things to the next level with someone you like in a culture of hookups and drunken sexcapades. It seems like the only way to even think about “getting the girl” involves getting in her pants first. Maybe this is effective (it is), but there is another way, and I’ve seen it in tons of movies, so I know it works.

Make a bet about it!

Bet your friends you can make a writer from The Sun fall in love with you while she simultaneously bet that she can lose you in 10 days (basically the plot of How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days) or accept that rich kid’s money to take out the hot girl’s sister (who after contact lenses and a new hairstyle happens to be hotter than hot sister!) so rich kid can get with hot sister (the plot of 10 Things I Hate About You). At the end of all of these movies and, of course, all other movies with the number 10 in the title, even after the girl finds out about the bet, the characters reconnect, realize they love each other, live happily ever after and also get a free Fender Stratocaster on the rich kid’s tab. What are we waiting for?

Wait. No. This will never work. Why? We’re just not as handsome and not as Australian as Heath Ledger. Or just not as handsome and not as Southern as Matthew McConaughey. So, let’s develop our accents and head back to the drawing board …

Like my favorite Harry Potter professor says, “CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” That’s really what it takes. You can keep kicking yourself over that tiny lapse of judgment, like walking away to get another drink, which happened to take 30 minutes, during which another guy swooped in. Yeah, this does happen, but instead of finishing that gin, tonic and tears, you can be a champ about it and pound back some Beam, brush it off and realize that sooner or later, you’ll be that hot-shot swooping in like Maverick, without all of that bloody Goose crash-and-burn bullshit. How? Keep talking to her, keep complimenting her, keep inviting her to those pre-games, but don’t just stand on the sidelines nursing that Keystone Light like it’s your security blanket, Linus.

Make it obvious you’re interested in her by keeping her engaged and amused. Just not like a court jester. Like an interesting person who is a valuable member of society. Yeah, it’ll take some time. Dubai wasn’t built in a day. Wait, I mean Rome. Dubai was. Keep smiling. Keep waving. Keep going to Cornell Cheese Club Exec Board Meetings. As long as you don’t act like a schmuck, stay persistent and be as charming as George Clooney, have a Southern accent and the name Matthew McConaughey, you’ll get the girl.

If all else fails, “heyy waht r u up to?” at 3 a.m. is as no-frills, carpe A.M. as you can get. Or, for those who don’t want to face potential rejection, the blank text message gets the point across to start the possibility of a late-late-night romance and can be brushed off as an accident come failure. Wayne Gretzky said it best: “You miss 100 percent of the shots you don’t take.” So … shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots … everybody!

Jeff K. is a senior in the College of Engineering. He may be reached, for sexual encounters or otherwise, at jeffk@cornellsun.com. Come Inside appears alternate Thursdays this semester.