Forget Larry, Let’s Talk About Flirting

Over at the Elgin Street Muse blog, there is quite a bit of talk about flirting. Manny Blue mentioned that flirting is a four season activity. Anonymous wanted more instruction. Conch Shell felt it was more of a pre-relationship thing. I like that Aggie concluded that we should just be doing it, and not over thinking it. Certainly, to me, it is an every day activity.

I flirted with an enchantingly pretty young woman this morning. The barista at a Starbucks. She had wild, radiant hair that had strands pulled up in a few places and that were held up by coloured elastics and pretty little barrettes. She wore shiny shell and silver jewelry, and at first I thought she looked a bit like a fairy tale princess - like the one in The Princess Bride. I noticed that the chalk board on the counter that names the baristas had a drawing of two Mermaids (one blonde with wild hair like my barista). When she handed me my coffee, I looked her in the eyes, smiled amiably, and told her that she did indeed look like a mermaid. She broke out into a lovely smile, and thanked me sweetly.

I flirted with a scrumptious young man this afternoon at a Bridgehead. I liked how he had a bit of an old fashioned look about him - as if he had just walked out of the late seventies. Maybe I just wanted to believe he looked that way, because that is when I would have been the age that I suspect he is now. I asked him if he would make my latté pretty like the last time. Last time he made a half-moon design in the foam. We chatted about how in Vancouver they make all kinds of nice designs in the latté foam. He had my undivided attention. He mentioned that a friend of his was being flown from Vancouver to somewhere in the States to compete in foam decorating.

“I’m really not very good at this,” he apologized.

“In Vancouver someone made a heart in my foam.” I mentioned.

“There you go,” he said handing me my latté, “but I don’t know what it is.”

“Look,” I said, turning the cup around for him to see, “it’s a tulip.”

“Oh, wow, so it is.” He marveled at his art.

I winked at him and said, “Now I can tell my friends that a nice young man gave me a flower today.”

He smiled and blushed.

Ms Army Pants witnessed the flirt with the young man and was told about the flirt with the young girl. She called me dirty.

“You’d do anything for sex wouldn’t you.” She accused.

“It’s not about sex,” I protested. “I am much too old for either of them. It’s about connecting, it’s about having conversations, it’s about making people smile…” I explained passionately and honestly.

“No, you’re just dirty.” She insisted.