Saturday, 19 January 2013

On the art of flirting

I don't think it's a secret that I tend to go for loudmouth-men. You know the guy who's the center of attention and the loudest one in his gang of friends? The one who's kind of annoying but happy to talk to everyone? Well, that guy tends to be my boyfriend. And I'm starting to understand why.
I just don't get it when other guys hit on me. If it's subtle; I don't understand it. Easy as that. The loudmouths and the creeps (the ones you shouldn't leave the bar with but you still do), them I get. Probably because they go about the art of flirting the all the grace of a horny bull in a china shop. Well, at least you can't ignore them.

Perhaps there's also a link to the fact that I have spent the last 10 years being someones girlfriend (an endless parade of boyfriends deemed unsuitable for one reason or another, but still...). I find it hard to get back into the game because I have never truly taken part.
I don't necessarily want to go out with the loudmouths. Fair enough, confidence and being able to dump them in any social situation and they still get by, that IS sexy. But surely you can have these qualities without also being the class clown? I'm really trying to give the quiet ones a chance, I'm just so damn useless at actually picking up the signals.

I'll give you an example: I was out for drinks with a big group of friends. Everyone was chatting and getting to know each other, and I found myself talking about music with this one guy. Sweet, polite, obviously had a good head on his shoulders. After a while he was popping out for a smoke and he asked me to join him. Having spend a large part of the night outside with the smokers I didn't think much of it. We stood outside, chatted for a bit. Nothing more to it.
I went back inside and the night just sort of carried on the way it had. Big chats, stolen glances, smiles across the table A few hours later, the guy was about to head off, but before he did so he walked over to the end of the bar where I was sitting and leaned in. He smiled at he and said: "So. I'm leaving now, but I was just wondering..."
And before he had time to finish, before I had even clocked that this might be him, you know, making his move, I start moving about, looking around me in a manic manner and I say: "Oh, I'm so sorry, am I sitting on your coat or something?"
In my defense, I WAS sitting on someones coat. Just, not his. The poor guy looked a bit crestfallen, shook his head and said his goodbyes so swiftly I was amazed there wasn't a nice guy-hole in the wall. Obviously he assumed I had turned him down in some roundabout way.
I didn't even consider that he might have been interested until the next day when my friend asked me if I had gotten his number, because, you know we had spent the whole night talking.
God damn.

That pretty much sums it up. I guess on the flirting-scale of thing I'm stuck on the 6-year old level where you just sort of punch and tease the people you like. A bit like this ("Do you like.....Bread?").


  1. Hopefully you have subsequently managed to get his number & ask him out!!!!

    1. Ha, oh dear, no. I am really rather useless. Must do better. x