I don’t pick up on the hints very often. Unfortunately, I have been known to interpret things as hints when they weren’t. Embarassing.
Well, once I missed the most obvious hint of all.
This woman disrobed right in front of me at a party and said “Wanna f*ck?”.
I told her I was leaving soon.
Now, how much more of a hint did I need?
While I * think* I usually “get it” now (though some of the guys I know really don’t, to my frustration), it took me longer than usual to catch onto what flirting was.
Back when I was a wee little freshman in high school, there was this cute guy in my study hall. I would have had a crush on him, but he was so mean to me! I mean, he gave me a hard time every chance he got. I decided he was a complete jerk.
A few months later one of my friends pointed out that another guy, who was also giving me a hard time, was in fact flirting. Oh! So you mean…Damn it!
I talked to the “jerk” about it a couple of years ago, and it amused him too that I had no idea he was interested. <shakes head>
I was at a punk show wearing, as usual, my favorite Hawaiian shirt - a sky blue scene covered in clouds and upside-down seagulls. In between sets, this ADORABLE girl comes over to me and says, “Hey… wanna trade shirts?” Now, this being late spring and in a dive bar, my 'beater under the Hawaiian was soaked with sweat, and I don’t even want to talk about how small her shirt would have been on me… besides, this is my favorite shirt, right? So I’m like, “Nah, not right now… but that’s a kickass Pokemon shirt you’re wearing.”
So we talk for a while. She’s cute, and when I tell her I wrestle, asks if she can piledrive me. I end up taking a stagediver to the head and sustaining a mild undocumented concussion because she’s not paying attention.
Finally, just before the last set, she grabs me by the collar and pulls me over, saying “Come on a little closer.” She then proceeds to ask me if I wanna hang out some time. “Sure,” I say. She goes, “Wanna trade numbers?” In a blinding flash of stupidity that I still can’t fully comprehend - I blame it on loss of electrolytes - I say, “what the hell, just take mine” and didn’t bother to get hers.
Veronica never called me.
The first semester after I changed my major in college, a group of us in the same department had three classes in a row together three days a week (with treks across campus in between). I struck up a friendship with a guy who had also changed just changed his major.
The third class in that lineup was tough, and he decided to drop the class. However, he kept going to lecture (walking across campus with me and sitting next to me), in order to, you know, “be really ready when I have to retake it next year.” He also always walked home with me, even though it was the longer route to his apartment (and he lived far enough away to get a free bus pass) because he “just liked the walk.” I was dating someone else and didn’t think a thing about it. Once he even made me extra crispy french fries – cut up the potatoes, heat up the fryer and all – while we were studying for an exam, because he remembered from some trip to McD’s that I love them that way. I thought “Gee, that was really nice.” Talk about oblivious!
It only took me, oh, four months to catch on. Luckily for me, he’s the patient and determined sort. We’ve been married almost five years now.
Science has proven that I lack the genes necessary to pick up on the flirty hints girls drop. There are chemicals called “nerdorphins” released by my brain at the exact moment a female attempts to indicate interest in me. I enter a Hendrix-based “purple haze” (if you will) which can last for months at a time. I hope the medical community can come to my aid very soon.
I like to believe that I’m simply oblivious. That’s much easier to bear than admitting that nobody has ever flirted with me, or had a crush on me in any way, shape or form. Not even my husband! When we met, I persued him, and he was the oblivious one.
Maybe you’re the people I should be asking.
So, there’s this guy at work, and I’ve been talking to him about writing a little something about the comic book he publishes for the paper I work for- because it could be an interesting story, but also because I’m looking for a reason to see him outside of work.
I had just told him recently about some nude studies I had shot, so I “joked” that if I did pictures with the story, of course he would have to take his clothes off.
Too subtle?
Scene: I was hanging out with a close friend of mine, watching cartoons on his bed.
“It’s really cold in here, we should get under the covers so you can stay warm Pammi.”
“I’m fine. I’m used to cold weather.”
A few minutes later, his hand manages to accidentally lands on my leg. I let it stay there for like 10 minutes without thinking anything of it.
“So, Pammi, what do you want to do now? The night’s still young, and we’re all alone…”
“I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight!”
Luckily, the next night he wasn’t as subtle, and asked me if I would give him a blowjob. How can you say no to an offer like that…
In college I dated a little and thought I was fairly clued-in. But my senior year I dated a woman who had lived in my dorm freshman year. She told me she used to see me at meals, thought I was cute, and that one day she and her tablemates threw fruit at my table to get my attention. To this day I don’t remember fruit being thrown at me.
Later on, a few years out of college, my future wife engages me in conversation, the upshot of which is that she’d like to get together (nudge nudge) no strings, no complications. She had to tell me this twice before finally inviting herself over.
But I’m much better now that I’m married. Something about being single increases the “nerdorphins” (I love that word)
I am great at missing these kinds of clues…
I was about 19 or 20, and I used to always go to this one book store. It was one of those that has the coffee bar there. This totally hot guy worked at the coffee bar, so I always would make sure to get coffee. After a while, I figured that he sort of recognized me from being in there so much. One day, I went in wearing a low-cut shirt and made sure I bent over the counter ever so slightly as he made my coffee. As he glanced up at me, he actually spilled coffee all over the counter. I didn’t get the hint that he might actually like me. A couple weeks later, I was in the store with my sister (who was about 13 at the time). On our way out, the guy was outside having a smoke. He said “Bye” to us, then said casually, “Off to the mall?” (The mall was right across the street). I said, “Yeah, probably.” He glanced at his watch and said, “Ah…sounds fun. Well, I’ll be here till ten, then I’m running out for a bite to eat.” So I said something to the effect that those plans sounded nice. And he repeated, “Yeah, I get off work at ten. I don’t really have any big plans yet for the night.” I said a friendly goodbye, all the while wishing that I could get this guy to notice me.
After we got to the mall, my sister mentioned how cute the guy was and that I was an idiot for not asking him out to dinner or something. I said something to the effect that a guy that cute would never go for me. She pointed out all the hints he had just thrown at me. I was so embarrassed, I didn’t go back there for the longest time. When I finally did, he wasn’t working there anymore.
You know… reading this thread I can’t help but think one thing! What the hell have I missed!!
So whats worse, knowing you’ve just missed blatent hints after they happened. Or looking back and knowing stuff is there, but you’re still too dense to recognize what you missed!!!
Nerdorphins, that explains it. My brain overloads on those whenever I talk to an attractive girl. Sadly, about ten minutes after I’ve been propositioned, the nerdorphins wash away and I realize what I’ve just missed. Oh, the pain.
–Tim
TV time, your story reminds me of the last scene in Dumb and Dumber where the busload of women on the bikini tour say they are looking for 2 guys to be their “lotion boys” and they point to the nearby town.
I don’t think I’ve ever really had situations like that. When I was in HS and college, I never really dated anyone. I was so out of the social scene (not that I didn’t want to be. I wanted to date a girl so bad that I could taste it!), that women really didn’t try to drop me hints. In fact, the situation I have for this thread is the exact opposite.
There was this girl I was interested in my senior year in HS. We had been on a few dates on and off for a couple of months. She was friendly, liked to hang out, and was fun to be with. When we would go out, she would hold my hand and let me put my arm around her. I thought I was getting all the signals, then one night after a date, she told me that she was not ready to go steady with anyone and wasn’t interested in dating me. OK! What was I missing? You were holding my hand, calling me up, inviting me to things, what am I supposed to think?
Then on top of all that, she continued to call me up, ask me to do things with her, and hold my hand. Talk about confusing! I got fed up with it one night. She bought a new car and asked me to go for a ride with her. I basically snubbed her and told her I couldn’t and that I needed to stay home. She never spoke to me after that.
Umm Pammi? I’ve got something I’d like to ask you…umm…
So I’m out at a bar one night, and this beautiful, sexy young woman comes over to my table, and says, “Mind if I join you for a drink?” I tell her that would be fine with me. She walks over and sits in my lap, telling me, “This looks like the best seat in the house.”
While we’re waiting for our drinks, she nibbles on my ear, sticks her hand inside my shirt, and picks up my hand and puts on her breast, saying “Might as well put that to some good use.” “Let’s go back to your place,” she whispers after a few minutes, and, placing her hand on my crotch, finishes, “and put this monster back in its cave.”
We go to the car, and while I’m driving, she unzips me, reaches inside my pants, and starts gently stroking me. Just before we get to me place, she leans over and continues the job with her mouth.
We get up to my apartment, and she guides me to my couch and tells me to relax, because she has something to show me. She slowly unzips her dress, and slithers out of it, revealing a matching set of black string bikini panties and a demi-bra. Her thigh-high sheer black nylons are held up by a silk-and-lace garter belt, the straps fed throught the leg holes on her panties. Wearing just her spike heels, garter belt and stockings, bra and panties, she struts over to me, leans down with her voluptuous breasts in my face, and asks for a little help unhooking her bra. I unhook it, and her breasts spring free, her nipples jutting alertly from the full, firm mammmaries.
“Now these,” she says, and turns around to wiggle her barely covered rear in my face. “Take off my panties with your teeth,” she purrs, so I do, which takes a few minutes, during which she is constantly running her hands over my body, stripping my upper body. Now wearing just garter belt, stockings, and spike heels, she pushes me back onto the couch, and tells me to relax, she’s going to be returning the favor. She pulls off my shoes and socks, and sucks each of my toes. She pulls off my pants, and finally, slipping her long, round, blood red fingernails into the waistband of my underwear, slips those down and off.
She continues the job she started earlier with her mouth, going at it quite enthusastically. Finally, she stands up, walks over to the couch herself, lies down, spreads her legs, and says “Take me now, big boy, I need you in me now, do me, do me, do me.” She starts masturbating, groaning and squealing, writhing on the couch.
And I thought "If I play my cards right . . .
I could be kissin’ this girl before the night is over."
I am the queen of Obliviousness.
At my bat-mitzvah, I was speaking to my uncle who lives in the U.S. We were talking about his new house. All of a sudden, a thought occured to me.
“Where does Glenn sleep?”
(Glenn is his roommate. They always travel together as long as I have remembered, and they live together, too. Glenn is nice.)
“In the master bedroom.”
“Oh. Where do you sleep?”
“In the master bedroom.” hint hint
“Oh!,” I said, as I wandered away.
Only once I visited their house and saw a picture of them kissing did I figure out they’re gay.
Also, I had this HUGE crush on a guy. This other friend of mine (male) and I are on a bed, talking all night, some about this guy, about other stuff too. By about 8 am, he is breathing on my neck and it’s making me tingle (I’d never kissed anyone at that point, I didn’t really get that it was a sexual thing).
He keeps asking me what I’d do if he was hitting on me, and I kept responding: “You’re not! Silly! Whay would you hit on me when we’ve been talking about another guy all night?” Two other friends mosey in, then leave saying: “This looks intimate.”
Only a few months later did the significance of these events dawn on me. Lucky for me, he didn’t give up then and there. We’ve been dating over a year now 
Wow…you really are oblivious…you DID notice my flirting, RIGHT? If you missed that…well, then I think you just might be a lost cause…
Remind me next time to just strip down…cut to the chase. 