I took a day off yesterday. More precisely, I took the afternoon and evening off. To flirt.
It’s something I don’t do often enough. Flirtation is an art form, and it requires practice. Besides, I needed a taste of the outside world, its color and aroma, the adult world. I live the writer’s life, isolated in the deep well of tangled thoughts, brittle battles in my head over just the right word.
I needed a man. His scent. His proximity. The fine cut of a dark suit, a silk tie, a crisp shirt. Or better still, jeans that show off his assets – those that seem to hold their own even as a man matures. I needed the indefinable energy exchanged between the sexes. That thing that some might call chemistry, and others chalk up to pheromones.
Location, location, location
Location is key to many endeavors, not only when it comes to real estate. I wandered a nearby mall, sat in an open area on a cushy chair, admiring the men who passed by, while tinkering with my new phone – still annoyed at how inept I seem to be at mastering its features. But I was thinking about other features that would be more to my liking as tinkering goes. And I could have used a bodacious Pinot Noir. Or fine Cabernet. I was kicking myself for not having a glass before leaving home.
Still, I stopped by the perfume counter at Saks, and the makeup counter at Nordstrom’s. A spritz here, a touch-up there, and I headed in the direction of my flirtation target. Eager for banter, for the exquisite pleasure of a man’s voice. Deep. Sexual.
Eye contact is key to successful flirting
I know the stores where the men work. Straight men, impeccably dressed. Age appropriate. Happy for a little conversation when customer traffic is slow, and the excitement of a momentary flirtation will not be turned down. Odd, you think? In France, flirtation is in the air everywhere. It’s the currency of the café, the momentary interlude with a stranger over a glass of wine after work, at the local bar. It is one of the things I adore about the language, the culture, and part of why I find French men irresistible.
But in the US, where Political Correctness has kicked fun to the curb? Rare indeed, to find flirtation with no rush to the finish line. Flirtation, as art form.
Still, in a particularly chic boutique there is an interesting man who initiated a delightfully daring conversation with me awhile back. I strolled into his store, lingered over the Manolos on sale, slipped on the sexiest pair I could find, fully aware that I was showing off my assets, such as they are. Might I mention that I have a well turned ankle?
Just as I was doing so, the gentleman approached me, and made eye contact, which I met, and held.
The art of conversation (how to really seduce a woman)
If only more men realized how to seduce a woman! It doesn’t require gross expenditures, brazen boasting, or conspicuous consumption. Nor does it require the fittest form, the thickest head of hair, or a set of canned lines you think she might fall for.
It takes attentiveness and time. Sensing just how close you can get, and oozing the confidence to get just that close. It takes carefully chosen words, spoken as you lean in, conversation of a certain sort that dances along an audacious edge without ever blundering beyond it. It requires reading the woman’s responses – her breath growing shallow, her body language, the way her voice changes slightly. The scent she gives off.
Conversation stirs a woman’s… spirit. And all the while, eye contact is maintained, even as the flirtations dip and spin through ever-more titillating territory.
Chicken
After an hour or so, and an exchange of numbers, the dapper gentleman with whom I’d been talking suggested I might enjoy a certain restaurant in the mall. Apparently, on Thursday nights, it’s known for its happy hour, suitable for all ages. He mentioned that one area of the bar would be brimming with twenty-somethings in mini-skirts. Micro-minis at that, adding that the rest of the bar was a little less obvious, and that as a writer, I might find inspiration – or tales – in the bustling environment.
I thanked him, and we said our goodbyes. I was in a fine mood and looking cute – but not quite what I would consider bar hopping attire. Sexy shoes, but not my really sexy shoes. And yes, I have on occasion treated myself to an evening alone at a local jazz club, where I nurse one drink, enjoy the music, and chat when someone strikes up conversation.
But this felt different. I was unprepared for a bar scene, especially where mini-skirts would be present. In short, I was chicken. Besides, I’d already had such a delicious flirtation and didn’t want to spoil it. So I wandered home, and I’m thinking about next Thursday. Then again. . . I may have other plans.
I wish there were more women like you who put themselves out there like that. I love flirting, and it’s so hard to find a woman who will get off her blackberry and hold my gaze, giving me an opening to approach her. Like I said, good for you that you put yourself out there. And don’t feel bad about skipping the bar. Your flirting with that man was worth way more than a drink.
You go girl! Get your flirt on! Have Fun, Jim
(I’m a little bit flirting impaired, Patty usually tells me when someone is flirting with me. I think they are just being friendly.)
Ah, BLW! Sounds like a perfectly wonderful afternoon. I may have stuck around and watched people at the bar/restaurant but unsure. Either way – sound like fun!
I loved the pacing of this piece. Might I suggest the style of your writing here hints at your facility with flirtation?
Any chance that dapper gentleman would want to join you for some people-watching at said restaurant’s happy hour next week?
Hello BLW – That was a fun read. I’ll have to come back again for a taste of single life in France.
You’re a gifted writer.
Thanks for visiting my blog and adding your thoughts. 🙂
Love it – flirt away!! I am chicken too, so I totally get that 😉 And you need THE sexy shoes, you just do. 😉
@Jolene – Yes – “the” sexy shoes (though trying on Manolos was fun).
@Anita – So glad you stopped by for a fun read!
@DM, Jim, Nicki, Kristen – I’m trying to “get my flirt on.” (After all, it takes real life to write, right?) 😉
Chicken? Not so! Assertive, confident, savvy (and so right!), sure.
Perhaps next Thursday you can kick it up a notch with your well-turned ankle and bar-hopping attire and go people watching. Maybe you’ll spot a certain dapper gentleman. But if you don’t, I’ll bet you’ll still enjoy yourself – and probably strike up another good conversation.
Wow, a shoe store? I would have guessed Home Depot for man shopping and it’s harder to pull that off in high heels and a short skirt. At least you can sit at the shoe store.
I find I’ve mastered the solo sit in a comfortable bar. Preferably an upscale hotel or restaurant bar. The clientele needs to be closer to my age as well. I’d hate to be mistaken for a cougar (or someone’s mom) and I’m less interested in conversing with a twenty-something.
I never fiddle with my phone, no matter the temptation!
You’ve got all week to plan your next adventure. Make it a good one!
You guys crack me up. Yes, well, a beautiful boutique that included clothes AND shoes. Gorgeous shoes. And the sole (sorry, couldn’t help it) hetero gentleman in the place stood out…
What can I say?
Yes, perhaps more people watching next week. It’s always fascinating.
Elegant hotel bars are very sexy. But I only seem to dare that scene when I travel, and I haven’t done that in awhile.
And Kelly – I agree – a well-spoken man with a sense of humor (and a twinkle in his eye) – mmm mmm good.
What fun! I flirt with the idea of flirting. I may do it without knowing but I keep thinking I’m married. And I’m a good girl. Not that flirting is for bad girls or only for unmarried women, but still. How’s that for chicken. (Did I just expose the hopelessly sad state of my flirting skills?)
See, if you were in France, Belinda, you’d be “allowed” to flirt without feeling like it must go anywhere. It’s energizing and fun. It makes us feel sexy. What could be better?
Yes, conversation is the ultimate seduction. There is nothing better for loosening my … inhibitions … than flirty, witty, smart conversation.
Oh, you’re my hero. I need to do more of this but I’m SUCH a chicken. Life is short; I need to start flirting more…
Ah Maureen. I consoled myself with the fact that I went out and flirted (and loved it). But when it came to that very lively bar scene, without something to read, a glass of wine already under my belt, or a single girlfriend – I was chicken, especially feeling like I wasn’t properly dressed. Maybe I’ll be braver next week. I think Nicki’s right. The people watching would be a HOOT, or would that be hooters, on the twenty-something side of the establishment?
You go BLW! Flirting does a body and soul good! I love this lighthearted piece. You reeled me right in…and reminded me that even married women need to get that flirt on with their men!
Can you teach Daniel a little bit about flirtation? Please? Can I send you his number? His email address? I’ll put it in a text message and ship it right over.
Because here’s the deal. He’s a man. I’m a woman. And even in marriage I think we need flirtation. But it is usually accompanied by laughs and jokes and happiness, sure, but not enough sultry talk.
I know what I need to do. Get this body back in mini-skirt shape and meet you on a Thursday night at this swanky hot spot and “observe” a little. Sure, sure. THAT’S what we’ll do. A writerly thing. Suuuuuuure!
Paris is easier. Walk to the subway. Get off at airport. Direct flight to Paris. Five days. No mini-skirt required. You’ll go home sultrified. And flirtatious. Tell him it’s writerly research.
I like the fun tone of this piece. I am with Suzicate – you reminded me that flirting with my husband can be fun too. Have a great weekend.
The art of talking includes knowing when to stop. With a few choice words you can talk yourself in and then right out of her bed. Not that I would know anything about it, just something that I once heard.
Wolfie, you naughty thing! I laughed through this whole post.
Moi? Naughty? Now, now, Kitch. . . SO glad you got a chuckle. Hope I’m getting my “funny” back. . . Yours is always intact. How do you do that?
That’s NOT chicken! I never would’ve left the house. THAT’S chicken.
But this post reminded me how much fun flirting really is. And how I totally forgot all about it. And I miss it. (Who knew?) Shame on me. Time to be creative and bring it back into my marriage.
THANK YOU!
Marital flirting. It’s a must.
Part of Operation Lust.
Meet the Hubster at a bar,
Make sure you don’t need the car.
Need some games that grownups play?
Flirt through evening’s hours, CK. . .
Wolfie,
Me thinks that this whole piece is one huge flirt. You are the master of such things and you bring me in every time. A woman of your caliber, intelligence and capability with words – I am not sure I could survive you in face to face flirting. Yummy writing all the way.
A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. . . Yummy is always good.
My Grandmother was a masterful flirt. It has been said that I have gotten her genes to flirt. I absolutely love to flirt. And thank God my husband appreciates it as an art form. He is always surprised at the information I can come away with. I really enjoyed this story. I needed a good smile story today.
I’m glad it made you smile, Joely. Sometimes we need that, yes. Generational flirtation! (Wonderful thought, that it might be in the genes.) 🙂
Great stuff. I enjoyed the read. Flirting has always been a challenge for me. Thanks.