flirt

I am an expert flirt; it is a basic instinct of mine. I laugh at jokes that are funny. I pay attention to people when they talk (if I’m interested). Dirty banter beyond “that’s what she said,” pops out of my mouth unexpectedly. I don’t toss my hair, but the more subtle flirting – that’s my expertise. So subtle, in fact, that I don’t notice it.

But other people notice it; women notice it.

Single men who haven’t noticed my ring notice it.

Old men love me for it.

It used to bother Steve, but by this time, we’ve reached that point. That point where you realize there are parts of someone that aren’t going to change, and you best just learn to accept it. I love him for that.

My flirting with other people will never amount to anything because of Steve. That’s what this ring he gave me does: it says I belong to someone. So I joke around and talk to men for twenty minutes sometimes. At the end of the day, I belong to the one man I will never tire of flirting with.

And as a bonus, the ring wards off the creeps.
Usually.
But I did get a rose from a much older man on Friday.
That will be a blog post all it’s own.
Let’s just say, Steve wasn’t surprised.