Flirtation

I am flirting with a woman who goes to the smoking section of the parking garage. But this isn’t your normal flirting. This is flirting on the grandest scale: sixth grade style.

You see, I don’t actually talk to the woman I’m flirting with. I’ve probably only talked with her for a minute tops. No, no, I’m too much of a pussy to talk to women that I might have an interest in. Instead, I go through her coworker (Smoking Friend). I tell the coworker all my stories even thought I don’t even know her name. The coworker and I have bonded over many a cigarette.

Me: So, how’s our friend today?

SF: I don’t know. I haven’t talked to her yet today.

Me: Did she break up with her boyfriend?

SF: No, I’m pretty sure she’s still living with him.

(A minute of thought…)

Me: So, is it cheating if you just do the whole tonsil hockey thing?

SF: Uh, yeah, I would think so. I guess it depends on the person.

(Another minute of thought…)

Me: So, if you have sex with a condom on, is that cheating? Because you’re not really having genital to genital contact.

SF: That would be cheating.

Me: I don’t know, I would think that would depend on the person too. I know students from the Christian college down the street who say they’re virgins but yet they have oral and anal sex.

SF: Really? That’s pretty odd.

Me: And there was that one girl who came over to my house the second day I knew her, got butt ass naked in my bedroom doing the whole oral sex thing and then sprung the whole “I’ve never been penetrated” thing on me.

SF: That doesn’t sound normal at all. You seem to attract those kind of people.

Me: And then she sent me an email saying our morals or ethics weren’t on the same page. Hello, you were naked in my bedroom the first time you came over, morals my ass.

(SF laughing and choking on her cigarette…)

Me: As strange as it might sound, those kind of people make me sound normal. And trust me, I’m not normal by any means.

SF: I would agree with that from the stories you tell me.

Me: Oh crap, does this make me a stalker by asking you about your coworker every day?

SF: No, I wouldn’t think so.

Me: What if I planned and plotted to get her and her boyfriend to break up?

SF: Dude, that’s major stalker territory.

I don’t even know if you can call it flirting, more of a running joke between SF and myself. While the person in question is cute and all, I’m really not in the mood to flirt and since my penis has been seriously overworked lately and has gone on strike, I have nothing to back up the flirting. Kind of like this post, besides a lame ass story about my inabilities to hit on women without feeling like some psycho sexual predator who whacks off while wearing condoms, I’ve got nothing for you. (If you read the last post you might think I’m a psycho sexual predator, but really I’m not. But you should still keep an eye on your cat.)