TO: Men all over the planet
RE: I’m a spectacular flirt. Really.
DATE: January 4, 2012
I’ve realized something, boys (or maybe it’s just slapping me over the head once again to remind me…): I’m a pretty, gosh-darn awesome flirt. I’m witty. I’m quick on my feet. I keep you on your toes. I’m good with those sarcastic zingers.
There’s only one problem. All of that goodness is on paper — or, I suppose, on the computer screen or Blackberry interface, depending on your level of smartphone smartness. When it comes to emails, Facebook, Twitter, even text messages, I can flirt with the best of them. Now granted, this is only with guys I know, and I’m too scared right now to take my act to those online dating sites as some of you boys have suggested, but it’s so easy for my little fingers to type one-liners like it’s nobody’s business (remember Facebook Flirt?).
But something happens in the transition to real life, and I haven’t quite figured it out, boys. I’ve tried to pick it up – this whole art of flirting thing – yet more often than not, the men on the receiving end (OK, and everyone else within earshot probably, too; I’m always honest, remember?) have virtually no idea what I’m doing. Or, if they do, they’re too polite (or scared?) to say anything. Their eyes just glaze over, and I’m pretty sure their reason for slowly inching backwards isn’t because I’ve blinded them with my advanced-level flirting skills.
Here’s what happened when I attempted some of the classic, old-school flirting techniques:
The old-school flirting experts say this is a trademark move. Spot a guy, hold his gaze, smile coyly and then quickly look away. If pulled off correctly, said guy will take the hint of your subtle invitation, and slowly make his way across the room to you. After a few practices, including sporting different types of smiles, I came to the conclusion that, no, I hadn’t pulled it off correctly. My “guy spy” usually resulted in him walking (OK. Sometimes running) in the other direction. The key, I didn’t know, was to look briefly – any longer makes you look like a stalker. Guys, I apologize if I ever gave you the impression that I was a certifiable stalker. I’m not. Apparently, I just tend to lose track of time easily.
Hearty Laughter & The Hair Flip
In college, I fell hard for Greg. We worked on the college newspaper together. He was a witty writer with a penchant for sarcastic humor. I’d never been one of those people who laughs loudly in public (I figured my disability drew enough attention my way), but I liked Greg, so I took the opportunity to try the trick I’d seen my female coworkers do; they actually made it look cool, so why not, I thought? Greg and I would talk, he’d sling a sarcastic barb and I’d let it rip like a hyena. Later, I’d casually flip my hair back a la Marcia Brady. Looking back now, I think the whole scenario resembled more of a comedy than a serious drama. For one, my laugh tends to take the turn of a nervous tick when I’m, well, nervous (did I mention I tend to get very nervous around guys I like?). And two, my spine is fused, which makes the whole hair-flipping thing look more like an awkward twitch than a sly move.
Chat Him Up
This should be the easiest one, right? Sure, if you’re anyone but me. I’m a shy girl, so I don’t exactly have an advantage when it comes to thinking of something witty or at least non-awkward to say to that potential beau. But if my disability has given me one thing – aside from my petite frame – it’s a strong will of sheer determination. If I want something bad enough, I’m going to get it. Yet maybe I should have known that my fierce determination, coupled with my obvious awkwardness, would result in this: I pump myself up to talk to a guy, quickly go from being a Chatty Cathy to a Mumbling, sometimes Manic, Mary. Half the time, I either say the wrong thing, or can’t even remember what I said in the first place.
The verdict, boys, is clear: I should probably stick to virtual flirting for now. At least for awhile. Your phone or computer screen may not be able to handle my witty remarks, though. You’ve been warned, boys (see, there I am, being my awesome, flirty self)… xoxo
[Photos via Le Love]