Perfect your first-date mojo: comedy writer Michael Jann is something of an expert when it comes to initial encounters--he's had a bazillion of them. Here, he spills what draws guys in ... and what makes them run.(TOTALLY COSMO)

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

I'm officially funny, and I make a lot of money. At a cocktail party, I'd never blurt this out in the first sentence. (I usually wait at least 30 seconds.) But the reason I come out with it early on? Because that's my cleavage. Like you outside a popular nightclub, I use it to cut the line. And in the competitive dating world, we all need to use whatever we've got. In the past year, I've gone out with roughly 100 women: actresses, models, doctors, lawyers, psychologists, designers, stay-at-home MILFs--you name it. I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but I am persistent. What I've realized is that some women do certain universal things on first dates that have me cringing, while others are able to turn an awkward first meeting into something intriguing. And given my vast dating experience, it would be downright criminal for me not to share what I've observed.

Engage His Senses

Most men out there are genuinely looking for love. We're just not very good at finding it, and sometimes, we need a hand--literally.

I love when a woman touches my arm on a first date. It feels so good--it's like a boundary gets broken, a wall gets knocked down, and suddenly, it's less uncomfortable; we're friends. (There's a statistic that waitresses get at least a 22 percent higher tip when they physically touch the customer as they hand them the bill. I have no doubt it's true.) Marissa*, a kindergarten teacher, was that way. When I sat beside her at a bar, she touched my knee while she told stories. I remember instantly letting my guard down.

So lean in, and break that boundary. Remember why we're attracted to you: Not just for sex, but because you look, sound, feel, and smell a million times better than we do. When you add touch, you have our senses working overtime. We want to smell your hair, your lotion, your perfume, and your breath. Well, except for Diana's.

Diana was a 5-foot-9, drop-dead-gorgeous musician. Smart as a whip. I tried hard to ignore the fact that when we kissed, I almost fainted. She had the worst breath I've ever encountered. It was like an open sewer lid; you could almost hear bubbling acid in her stomach and the Joker screaming. When we sat on my couch watching a DVD, I found myself sitting 3 feet away from her. I closed my eyes as we kissed and had visions of her sitting in a dentist's chair, surrounded by a team of doctors in full Haz-Mat suits, shaking their heads sadly and calling in the air strike. I don't know if there's a cure for chronic halitosis, but for me, it was never calling Diana again.