Two words can sum up this weekend: Pure madness. We’re talking all hell broke shamelessly loose.
Without going into much detail, my friends and I started at a bowling party filled to the brinks with men and women of every age and persuasion followed by an involuntary party at mi casa (my dearest friend volunteered my apartment. I was feeling quite spirited due to the excessive amounts of spirits in my tummy sans food).
Let’s just say things got bizarrely weird and interesting.
Over the course of said 24 hours, a common occurrence was observed when the opposite sexes co-mingled: the act of “harmless flirting.”
Harmless flirting is seemingly the same as regular flirting, that is to “behave as though attracted to or trying to attract someone, but without serious intentions” except with harmless flirting, there is a seam of potentially “harming” someone. The very term itself is riddled with oxymorons and redundancies at the same damn time.
Allow me to elaborate.
Scenario One: I am apparently a magnet for men with women. Or so it would appear. I am praying that it isn’t because of my exes penchant for flirting while involved and I am somehow the byproduct of that, but that’s for a therapist and my best girlfriends to decide. Anyhoot, over the course of my night, two guys independent of one another exchanged a series of flirts with one Alyssa Peacock. The first is my friend who we will call Mr. Drinks, the other Mr. ManChild.
Mr. Drinks I have known for a few years, and we get along swimmingly. He’s polite and the quintessential gentlemen. He also tried to date two of my friends prior to us becoming friends and he has a girlfriend. Not my style to break up a happy home. He’s my buddy. Nothing more, nothing less. And that’s exactly what he was… until the alcohol began to pour. “It’s harmless, nothing will change,” I told myself, and fact is it hasn’t. But how would I feel if I was named girlfriend? Would the so-called “harmless” flirting be deemed harmless by the omnipresent ladylove?
I was only quasi-attracted to Mr. Manchild. Seemed okay enough, but wasn’t registering on the funny train (man must be funny and witty to catch my attention) Admittedly, had it not been for my vodka/rum goggles, I may not have flirted at all. He is awkward like a newborn chick except he’s a grown ass man a sneeze away from 30. Sweet but very odd. However, his flirt was so on Level 100, that I felt compelled to offer my “appreciation for your turned up” flirting as the honorable thing to do. But alas, my “I’m just trying to be nice” flirting was translated into “she wants me.” No sir, sit down. And especially considering that information regarding his female counterpart was not mentioned until the wires were already crossed. Yuck. In the light of day, our harmless flirting had the potential to be misunderstood if a sincere interest or single status were in play.
Scenario Two: What about the hopeless romantics who are looking for love, just to find themselves in the midst of a serial flirter?
Several of my friends are N.B.F.’s…Natural Born Flirts. Flirting is ingrained in their DNA. They eat, sleep, and breathe the coquet life. I am super guilty of this. I flirt with guys all of the time. Hell, I flirt with my bootleg man. To me, it’s fun and an excellent game of wits. But what is typical and not worth getting up in arms about to them could easily be an ego breaker. Thinking someone is interested in you when, in reality, you’re nothing more than a copy and paste job. It doesn’t matter if it was you or someone else, their flirt is the same all day, everyday. And while they go on their merry way, thinking none the more, love struck you are stuck trying to understand what the hell happened. Not-so-harmless flirting strikes again.
So what do you think? Is Harmless flirting really harmless or a mechanism for naughty behavior?
And the Single Peacock Female war wages on…
Be Extraordinary- Alyssa Peacock