I’d give you the last ping-pong ball if you gave me your number.
I’m no lifeguard, but I’d gladly rescue your number from the ocean.
I like your style—very wheel done. Can I get your number?
Can I get your number, or should I write it on my top tube?
Your energy is more contagious than a tournament cheer; can I catch your number?
Can I scan your number, or do you prefer I enter it manually?
Could I borrow your pen for the customs form, and your number for the next adventure?
Can I get your number, or should I just write it on my receipt?
My receipt should include your number
I’d ask for your number, but rejection has already memorized mine.
I’m not barking up the wrong tree, am I, if I ask for your number?
I’d sit, stay, and roll over if it meant getting your number.
I’d cross every border just to get your number.
Are you mitochondria? Because you’re giving me the energy to ask for your number.
You’re the cutest duck on the pond, and I’d happily be your number-two quacker.
Your long neck has me short-circuiting; can I get your number before I faint?
Your under arrest for not giving me your number.
If I get a block on you, can I get your number?
If I don't get your number, I'm going to fall to pizzas.
Can I get your number? Because I like you a latte.
