quizzical pussy

My flirting skills are roughly on par with T-Pain’s singing ability sans Auto-Tune. I’m aware that I recently described performing lap dances for my friends, so I should probably clarify. I can flirt recreationally– purely for the joy and play of it all, but when the flirting might have a purpose (i.e. testing the waters for imminent sexin’), I suddenly have no idea what I’m doing. I can easily come on to people whom I feel sure aren’t a sexual possibility, when I feel safe with them and I know that they’re not going to read too much into it. But with strangers, I freeze. I don’t turn diffident or timid, understand; I’m just completely non-sexual. I’m practically one step shy of calling any potential suitor “bro”.

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Example:
Interior. Restaurant. Evening. Quizzical Pussy enters and sits down. An attractive gentleman caller saunters up to her table. Things are about to get pretty fucking uncomfortable, folks.

Gentleman Caller: Hi, I’m Roger Jollylad. I saw you when you walked in and thought you looked like lots of fun.

Quizzical Pussy: Ohai. I’m Quizzical Pussy. I try to bring the party, whenever possible. It’s kind of you to notice. (offers high five, like a tool)

Gentleman Caller: You’re cute.

Quizzical Pussy: My favorite dinosaur is Parasaurolophus. What’s yours?

Gentleman Caller: Do you want to maybe hang out sometime?

Quizzical Pussy: Ummmmmm. I’m going to go fight those guys in that booth over there. I’m pretty sure they’re assassins or something. Peace,  bro.

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It’s especially bad with guys. I think it’s because it’s so much easier to assume (because of statistics about sexual orientation and stuff) that women aren’t going to take pleasant recreational flirting seriously. Often, when a male comes up to talk to me in a bar or some other “let’s pick someone up” type of venue, he’ll end up asking me if I’m not into guys, because I’m just that neutral.

I’m not opposed to something coming of the “safe” flirting. It’s not a matter of teasing to get a jolt of power or control. Normally, for me, this type of flirting is about showing affection– not withholding it, and unexpectedly finding that playful flirting has transmuted into serious flirting is often a welcome and sweet development. Thing is, I’m not nearly as worried about people wanting to touch my naughty bits as that they will think I’m assuming that they might want to.

See, I’m concerned about being attracted to people without permission. About offending them for presuming that they’re viable conquests. I have no idea where I got this, or if it’s common at all. Maybe lots of people feel this way and no one admits it because it’s kind of silly. Rationally, I realize that most people aren’t going to backhand me for daring to see them as sexual possibilities. Even if not interested, chances are they’d be flattered by a little attention, right? It’s not because of logic that I’m so wary of imposing my libido or interest on people who haven’t invited it. It’s something else. Something stupid. Something I have the hardest time shaking. It’s so bad that I won’t allow myself to admit (even to me) an actual desire for someone until orgasms have come into play, or at least a vigorous make out. I can think you’re objectively pretty and even say you’re attractive in a general sense, but I won’t feel or express actual lust until I have the go-ahead that only physical interaction provides. And even then, I’m so very careful.

For someone who’s kind of a sex fiend, this is slightly obstructive. If I flirted a little more, a little better, judiciously, I bet I could get way more laid.