The Po Show

Flirt

I was reminded today that I used to be a really good flirt.

From about the age of 14, I was a Five Star, Grade A, Olympic-class flirt. I cut my flirting teeth on men farther over the age of consent than I was under it, teenage boys, old dudes (really, they were probably around 45, but that seemed like geezerhood to me), all kinds of guys. Not the guys in my own high school, who didn't see me as anything other than Professor (you were not allowed to simultaneously be the smart girl and the pretty girl, a harsh reality that has influenced way too many of my bad choices in life), which was their loss since I actually put out.

Flirting was instant gratification, even long after I was happily in love with Ross and settled in for life. I could flash that quick smile, that eye twinkle, and see a guy mirror back appreciation. Car flirting was the best, since it seemed so safe. Smile, see the guy wink, or wave, or just smile back widely. No way that anything could come of it, since we were on opposite sides of big metal machines in motion. (Actually, once a guy followed me on the freeway for miles, as I was on my way to see Ross at his dad's place. He convinced me to pull off at an offramp and stop so he could talk to me. I'm aghast that I actually did!)

In any event, it was (I felt) a harmless way to reassure myself that I was still attractive. I was CUTE, which I learned, early on, to work to its greatest advantage, as a way to compensate for not having much in the tits department. 

But what happens when you find yourself on the far side of forty? After a certain point, cute just seems inappropriate. Flirting starts seeming, unseemly. What, am I going to be some grey-haired old lady cackling "Shake that money-maker!" at poor hapless studs on the street?

Some old ladies can pull it off, but it's hazardous. Gertrude Stein was still spouting double-entendres near the end of her life, but I'm sure she just made people uncomfortable a lot of the time, carrying her little dog and all. 

I'm fairly sure that being a MILF is more trouble than it's worth, and I think you have to go to the gym a lot. Well, *that's* certainly not going to happen!