So, remember last weekend when I had a fabulous day and my friends and I toured the Sculpture Walk in downtown Sioux Falls? Well, I may have failed to mention something that happened on said walk. Most of you know I'm terribly backwards in the dating/men/flirting department. If you haven't been playing along at home, here's a good example. Way back when I was 23 years old, I met my very first long term boyfriend. (Very Late Bloomer. You are about to know why.) We were introduced by friends who took us both to dinner. During the appetizer, I decide that I don't mind him. In fact, by the time the main meal is finished I think he's quite good looking and easy to talk to and well? By the end of the night? Yeah! So, as we all say goodbye, I say to my friends, "I really liked him." And they both did a double take and said, "WHAT?!" And I'm like, "Yeah. I did." And the husband says, "Um. I never would have known that." So yeah. The only reason we ended up together is that they told him I had a really good time (WHICH I DID!) and that I wanted to see him again. Not because of anything I did or said. See? Loser flirter. Apparently when someone tells you they are in the movie business, you're not supposed to say, "I never watch movies." And when they say they enjoy hunting, a not-so-clueless woman would not have said, "I don't believe in guns." Gah. I suck. I still suck at it. As evidenced by my propensity to talk about the Bubonic Plague on a first date with a stranger. And the fact that I met my fiance in the psychotel. What? Yeah. Whatever.
SO. History lesson done.
There's a new guy that's been hanging around. He's tall. And hot. And he's an educator who works with kids, (Hello?! UP MY ALLEY!) But he's married, so no. I just don't go there, right? I don't. I'm classy like that. I had heard about a pending divorce last Christmas, but still - not divorced, so I just don't go there or anywhere near him for that matter. Well. He came out with us last weekend and for the first time in like, EVER! I was like, "OMG! He's totally checking me out!" Someone, whom I find very attractive, CHECKING ME OUT! So I did what I always do when I feel exposed; I looked down, and blushing furiously, grabbed my friend's arm and went into a store and then ignored him for the rest of the afternoon. See? Classy. And I didn't say a word. To anyone. Because I might have been wrong and then that's just too vain and whatever.
At breakfast the next morning, one of my older, married admirers (Older men find me infinitely attractive for some reason. Especially if they're married.) says, "Did you notice that guy checking you out?" And I'm all, "WHAT?! I didn't imagine it?!" And he's all, "Kate! You gotta ENCOURAGE a man when you see that!" And I'm all like, "Encourage?! What does THAT mean?!" Apparently, I'm supposed to look him in the eye and smile and say something smart, or accidentally "brush into him" at some point later in the day. And then I started blushing so much, I could just feel it all over and he says to me, "A little bit of that coloring will help too." And then I just wanted to hide under the table.
Seriously? That's how it goes down?
I'm blushing just TELLING you about it.