How Not To Pick Me Up in a Bar

If you're trying to hook up with me, don't admit you're doing so because you're essentially blind.

Scene: Sidetrack Sunday night. Stopped in to meet a friend for a drink. We're talking and he excuses himself to use the restroom. A guy standing next to us moves in and and starts talking to me.

Him: "How's it going?"
Me: "Good, thanks. You?"
Him: "Good. But I'm drunk. My friends and I have been drinking all day."
Me: "Hmm. Sounds fun."
Him: "Yeah, so drunk! I can't even see straight!"

And... SCENE.
At this point I excused myself and walked away.
I mean, really. Granted, I'm not in the market for a hook-up; and even if I was, I don't expect it to be meaningful (this is Sidetrack, after all), but c'mon even I have some kind of standard. I would hope the guy would be able to distinguish between me and some blob standing against a wall.