Accidental Flirt

Awhile ago a young man came to our door selling cable and, to make a long story short, I ended up asking him if he was free to do something later. And yes, it was an accident! Those who recognize my ability to screw up a sentance will understand, as will those who know that the connection between my brain and mouth is touch-and-go at best. Not long after that I was out somewhere with a bunch of friends, having a nice little chat with a guy I barely know. Apparently I was flirting big-time with him, cause everyone was asking me about it later. One friend clarified that I had been leaning forward as we talked, and that was a major tip-off. Well, of course I was leaning -- I was tired of standing, so I was leaning on the back of the pew for support! (Girls, avoid this move.)

Anyway, my subconscious has decided for me that this incessant flirting must stop. I realized this when a young man came in to measure our backsplash -- I was, without question, the creepiest and most awkward young woman he'd ever met. The whole fifteen minutes he was in our kitchen, I watched the tape measure with rapt attention, standing behind him on the edge of his peripheral vision. I didn't move. I gave one-word answers to his questions. And I'm pretty sure I smiled politely only once, but it was the grin of a tired old lady who just wants this hooligan out of her house so she can get back to her soaps. I think he was okay with leaving right away after his work was done. Maybe I was kind of rude (which I didn't mean to be, I was just super tired). But at least I didn't ask him out or lean forward or commit any other such obvious flirtatious act. Maybe I'm cured.