There is an old joke that all people can be divided into two broad categories, the largest of which is “Arrogant Assholes Who Think All People Can Be Divided Into Two Broad Categories.”
Actually, we’re happy to divide them into as many categories as we can: see, for instance, the Myers-Briggs Type Inventory (sixteen) or classical astrology (twelve). Regarding the latter:
“Hey, baby — let me guess: Scorpio, right?”
You’ve got about an 8% chance of being right on a hustle like that and if she says, “No, I’m a Leo,” your next line is obvious: “Really? But I’m guessing you’ve probably got a Scorpio moon, right?” Given that most people have never done a full chart, she’s got no idea, but if she is into astrology — and back in the ’70s, it was a big thing — she’s going to be intrigued by your pretended insight.
Of course, the whole point of that line is to find out if she’s into astrology, because chicks who are into astrology are easy.
For the record, I have had a full chart done, but being a Sagittarius with a Leo moon, I of course don’t believe a word of it.
Actually, that’s not quite true. Some of the gobbledygook presented is dead-on accurate. But the volume of it is so vast — there are so many angles and signs to be accounted for — that something in there pretty much has to be dead-on accurate. (This works well for our putatively professional prognosticational types, who issue scores and scores of predictions, and you end up remembering the three or four that were indeed spot on, and forget the eighty or ninety that missed by a mile.)
And then there’s that whole Uranus in Cancer thing, which just sounds painful.
Speaking of MBTI, I am, as should surprise no one, INTJ, just like Princess Celestia.