Friday, February 01, 2008

the art of flirtation

I'm a silly-headed lass for a charismatic face twitch.
you know, a wink, raised eyebrow, there-then-gone smile; doesn't matter if the man is 21, 38 or 87, if I'm the object of (or intercept) such an overture of cordiality I color all over and turn into an addlepated jumble of girlishness.

Dragonslayer has several of these facial flirtations including, an excellent wink, a tug-at-the-corner smile, and a single nostril depression (sounds bizarre but it's guaranteed to make any woman laugh out in pleasant confusion) . . . oh and he has dimples too.

The first time I intercepted such facial congeniality from Dragonslayer was on a high school field trip.

He is a Senior and I am a Sophomore. After competing in a drama festival we are attending the event dance, I am already suffering under the weight of my crush on him so when, out of politeness, Dragonslayer asks me to dance I desperately grope for something to say-something to leave a brilliant impression-so what do I do? I say that he seems to like Tall Graceful Senior a lot.
He confesses that he may indeed like her very much.

You could slip me under a door jamb I'm so crestfallen, still I rally the shards of my dignity and tell him . . .um, what to tell him, I tell him . . . that Tall Graceful Senior is a really talented and beautiful girl so they would make a good couple. Ah!! The agony of it all. I'm pained at the remembrance.

At this point I just couldn't bring myself up to anything like my normal cheery self so I just dance, intensely wishing the song will end now! so that I can go stand in a corner by myself. Dragonslayer, never one to see a Fair Maiden in such distress, uses his patented nostril wink on me. A smile comes back to my face and I amiably chat about
Tall Graceful Senior some more (you'd think a girl could learn) and then, thankfully, the dance does end and we go our separate ways. He to dance very closely with Tall Graceful Senior and me to join a gaggle of dancing girlfriends, though still glowing in the wake of such flirtatious bliss.

Then, about thirty-six hours later, we are on the bus ride home. Dragonslayer is sitting with Tall Graceful Senior who is asleep on his shoulder. I "join" them by sitting backwards, ostensibly to take a picture. (Which to make more plausible means that I had been taking pictures of others on the bus.) As I ready the camera he exchanges a knowing look with me-we both know that he likes her, after all it's the only thing we discussed the other night when we danced together-and I am pained with jealousy. I resolve that I'm not going to like him anymore, I'm through, and then he smiles at me-ah the dimples-my resolve weakens, I take a picture-then he winks, a slow deliberate wink. Right. At. Me.

There was no hope I was fated to be an addlepated jumble.

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