Flirting

This morning I disappointed a dear friend in her (admittedly very gratifying) assumption that I am always charming and witty. I will admit that while my wit rarely fails me in the majority of situations, there is one situation in which it always fails: flirting.

Well, wait. I can flirt, so let’s be more specific: when a woman flirts with me. When a woman, especially one I find very attractive, flirts with me, it usually results in one (or more) of the following scenarios:

I. I am clueless:

• Woman: *flirts*
• Whiskeypants: I have no idea what you are talking about. *turns back to friend/book/computer*

II. I am paralyzed:

• Woman: *flirts*
• Whiskeypants: *freezes*
• Woman: *waits*
• Whiskeypants: *tries to find something witty to say*
• Woman: *smiles sympathetically and wanders away*
• Whiskeypants: *comes up with ten witty things to say*

III. I am a buffoon:

• Woman: *flirts*
• Whiskeypants: *walks into wall/trips over foot/spills food or drink*
• Woman: *smiles sympathetically and wanders away*

IV. I may or may not have drooled on myself:

• Woman: *flirts*
• Whiskeypants: *turns bright red, forgets the English language, and has potentially drooled*
• Woman: *Buys me a drink and follows me home.Sidles away cautiously*

Yep. They really love number IV, lemme tell ya. 60% of the time, it works every time.