I would wait patiently for him each morning outside our classroom, undeterred by silly distractions like friends, ballgames and my snotty nose. Eventually he would come bouncing along in his small grey shorts, a maroon tie around his neck. Ag jirre he was cute.
But then it would happen. Within seconds of his arrival I would burst into hysterical fits of giggles, followed swiftly by verbal or physical abuse, all directed squarely at him, my one true Loves. It was my special way of letting him know that I liked him and it came as naturally to me as most other things that you never spend any time thinking about.
One rainy day I whacked him over the head with an umbrella. He screamed, cried, and then went and told on me. I was sent to the principal's office and almost died of the pain and humiliation. My Love had turned me in. How could he not have known that my brutal attack was in fact a declaration of my deep and unending devotion? Confusion followed. It still persists.
I am "flirt-challenged", so to speak, mostly because I'm deeply unsubtle when it comes to attraction. I find it hard to make small talk with someone when all I want to do is have them shut up and rip off my clothes. I become slightly awkward. I stumble over my words. I over-analyse the situation and wonder why they haven't stopped mid-sentence to kiss me. Thusly, if I'm attracted to you, I might:
- Completely ignore you
- hit you over the head with an umbrella
- ask you if I may kiss you (hoping you don't have a girlfriend lurking with violence in her heart).
Dylan, a 21 year old Ausie staying in the Hostel has been imparting advice on the Art of the Flirt. He says the trick is to talk very casually and to make sure that there is lots of physical contact happening, as in: touching his arm, brushing up against him, laughing and smiling at the stupid jokes the oke is telling, that sort of thing. Sounds like an awful lot of work to me.
I hope it doesn't turn out to be my fatal flaw.
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