Monday, August 4, 2008

Missing the Flirting Gene

I never had very many boyfriends growing up. I was completely socially inept. Too bookish and smart to hang with the cool kids and too mouthy and insolent for the bookish crowd. Hey I liked my A's and telling people to fuck off all at the same time. Imagine that.

Off to college I went. I was supremely naive in the ways of the dating world, yet I somehow (thankfully) managed to stay rather sheltered at university. It was more of the same. I was there to get good grades, not fuck around and puke in my friend's car.

This naivete became painfully obvious the time a friend and I spent a weekend at Tybee Island. Popular with southern colleges as a weekend beach hangout, it is the place to go and get drunk, have the prerequisite one-night-stand, and be back for class Monday morning.

As my friend and I walked along the beach, out of nowhere a frisbee came at me. And hit me. On the foot. And not just my foot, but on the little round ankle bone on the outside of my foot.

Holy motherfucking hell. I dropped to the sand in sheer agony. I hadn't even realized what had hit me at first. As I lay there squawking and cursing, I noticed the guys who had thrown the frisbee. They didn't know whether to come and get it or wait for me to throw it. They looked awkward and uncomfortable.

I chucked the thing back to them with a Watch what you are doing snide and bitchy remark and fire spitting out of my eyes. I limped down the beach with my friend.

It wasn't until later on, on the way back down the beach when we passed these guys again that I realized what had happened. As I watched these same guys interacting with other people (namely, hot chicks) that I realized that they had tossed the frisbee my way as an excuse to start up a flirty conversation. It was obvious they had not intended to lame me, and they had certainly not expected to get their asses chewed off.

It was too little too late. The guys were chatting up a new set of girls and avoiding my gaze like their testicles depended on it.

I learned my lesson that day. That not only was I a socially inept dork, but that when the opportunity to meet a guy literally dropped out of the sky in front of me I still had no fucking clue.

Oh, and to watch out for guys with frisbees. When they think with their dicks they throw like sissies.


RiverPoet said...


You just pretty much described me in high school. Clueless!

It's a wonder we got married, huh?

Peace - D

jayna said...

First, that was totally me in high school, too. DH has never let it be a secret that the ones with the balls to date me were the brave ones, and everyone else was afraid of me.

Second, I swear I witnessed this phenomenon this weekend - only the idiots were using a baseball. Strategically positioned diagonal across the beach, and some poor chick got creamed with it.

A Free Man said...

I didn't really learn to flirt effectively until my mid 20s. Sounds like your Tybee Island boys weren't that good at it either.

melissa said...

Too bookish and smart to hang with the cool kids and too mouthy and insolent for the bookish crowd.

Yup yup.

Good story. ;)

melissa said...

Oh my god, I just read your blog header... *dying laughing*

Coal Miner's Granddaughter said...

You? Complete me. Dude. We're twins. I'm convinced of it. Either that or I'm your "mini-me."

Yep. That's it.

Lady said...

Rofl. That made me laugh. Thanks!

It reminds me of when we were little kids and the "you touch 'em you love 'em" thing went around.
All the little kids would beat up on the person they liked, especially if they were trying to deny it.

Ah, the dating scene. Good thing I'm not in it anymore either.. I would never know what to do nowadays! It's a wonder that I nabbed my husband in the first place!

Gypsy said...

I kind of had the opposite problem. I thought everyone was flirting with me. Hello, delusional. ;)

K-Mom said...

AHH Youth. Good times.

Sinead said...

I nearly fried my keyboard when i spit out water from laughing so hard.

Krysta said...

you are my long lost twin! every word is me.