The following is Part 1 of a 3-part series originally written in Sept. of 2013. I thought it would be a good time to repeat it.
Uncomfortable Topic
OK, so this is not a subject I normally discuss, but I feel I must say something.
I have seen several pieces in the news about how to know when a man is flirting, but the signs leave me a little puzzled. I mean, I am a man, so I should have some knowledge of when I am flirting, correct? But, evidently, I may be flirting when I don’t know it!
I don’t remember the sources for the following, but if you want to, just Google them (It is not my intention to plagiarize, but I am not getting graded on a paper, applying for a job, or getting paid for this post, so I’m not going to worry too much at this point). Here are…
Ten (supposed) ways to know a man is flirting with you:
He makes eye contact when he talks.- He touches his face.
- He laughs at a girl’s jokes.
- He messes with his own hair.
- He tries to gain your attention.
- He leans in closer when you talk.
- He touches you on the shoulder.
- He always has a smile.
- He puts his hands on his waist.
- He throws rocks at you from across the playground.
Analysis of List
First, I always thought that I was supposed to make eye contact when talking with someone. Does this mean that every time I look someone in the eyes I am flirting? I guess I am going to have to revert back to my insecure, shifty-eye days.
Second, what if a guy feels bugs crawling on his face and in his hair? Should #2 and #4 on the list be avoided? I mean, if I get an itch, does that mean a woman is going to slap me?
Third, maybe guys are just being nice, you know? I try to smile at everybody’s jokes, don’t you? Sometimes a girl can be funny, even when she is ugly as a burnt tree.
Attention? What’s wrong with trying to get someone’s attention? Sure, there are different ways to do that, but come on! Just because I honk my horn at a lady walking down the street does not mean I want a date; there may be a tiger behind her, or a hole in front of her. The right thing to do is warn her.
Next (is this fifth?), the reason I lean in closer to a girl is because I am deaf from all the head-banging Southern Gospel music I have played.
Sixth, I may put my hands on my waist, but it might only mean I am disgusted with you. I would hardly call that flirting. But if I do put my hand on your shoulder, it might mean that I am secretly trying to see if the Vulcan grip really works.
Seventh, I always smile. Not really. That’s a lie.
Eighthly, ninethly, and tenthly, if I throw a rock at you on the playground, then I am absolutely flirting. Every boy knows that’s the way you let a girl know you like her. But since I am married, and since flirting with other women could cause my wife to do bad things to me in my sleep, I will keep my rocks to myself.
One Other Thing
There was one other sign that I did not include in the above list, but was in one article I read: “If a guy plays footsies with you in the sand, he might be flirting.”
If a guy starts rubbing his feet all over yours, that’s not a sign of flirting, people; that’s something way more. Ladies (and I am talking to women at this point), either get wedding invitations ready, or make use of a well-placed knee. You need no other signs.
Your welcome.
I know this a new word because I can’t find a definition for it. As a matter of fact, when I did a definition search, not only did Google keep asking me, “Did you mean annihilate?”, but other helpful tools started popping up. For example, I didn’t know there was anything out there that searched word-game databases. However, the one I clicked on informed me that anilate was not accepted in ANY word game played in the English-speaking world.

Don’t worry about your lunch box; the forest is full of pretty berries.

Grandfathers are also notorious/famous for telling tall tales, embellishing the facts, and leaving grandkids confused about actual historical events. Of course, the point of those stories is to keep a kid’s attention for more than 30 seconds; the straight truth can be boring at times.





