Apparently, my flirting strategies are so ancient and useless, they deserve to be showcased in a museum under the exhibit: What Not to Do When You Like Someone.
Literally all my friends keep telling me to show some signs and let him know that I like him. And I keep telling them that I am!
“You know what? Even if you give a little *hint* that you like him, he’s not going to buy it because you’re you,” said anonymous friend over tequila and a plate of Sisig. She rushed to the bathroom before I could answer, as if to say the discussion is over.
“And what exactly am I?” I shouted so she could her me through the bathroom door.
She didn’t answer immediately. She opened the bathroom door with flair, stared at me for a few seconds, then announced, “You’re scary.”
I am not scary. I’m the normal amount of Nice Gal mixed with Crazy Bitch that makes up the average twenty-something woman. Besides, the things she says I need to do are so over-the-top tacky, I shudder to even think someone else does them.
But it did keep me thinking what I’ve done so far to let him remotely feel that I like him. I mean, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I’m not entirely dense when it comes to these things. And I don’t think he’s that dense, either.
Let’s see. So far, I’ve initiated conversation quite a few times with a stupid excuse like, “you need to check this out” or “didn’t you think that episode was rubbish?”. He does the same—and MUCH more often than I do—so I thought it would be a safe strategy for me to try as well.
Also, I… wait.
Fuck. That was it.
So, yeah. I would like to refute my earlier statement. My flirting strategies are NOT ancient and useless. They’re nonexistent.
Well, fuck signs. I’m all for telling someone you like them. But I still believe that it should come from men. Not from us. Never us.