March 22, 2005


It's Tuesday, so of course it's Demystifying Diva Day. The topic we magnificent divas are tackling this week is flirtation do's and dont's....for men. After all, we lassies are all about demystifying things for you lads. It seems the least we can do is to tackle the hard topics ala Dan Rather. In other words, you'll find yourself somewhat informed, if you can successfully navigate the frog gigging references.

Now, personally, I enjoy flirtation. Always have. It's easy for me because I am a natural born flirt. Mom drank something when she was preggers with me and it's affected my behavior in this respect ever since. Honestly, I couldn't shut the damn gene off if I tried. But, honestly, who wants to shut off the flirty gene? Where's the fun in that? Anyway, because I'm good at this, I've noticed where certain men tend to fail in their effort to be good little flirts. In case you hadn't noticed, flirting is about sending off signals and, on the other end of things, learning how to read said signals properly. As such, these are my observations.

  • First off, groom yourselves, darlings. {Insert Edna Mode voice here} Mediocrity is everywhere, darlings. You want to be a god? Well, notice that Zeus takes a bath and shaves on a daily basis. He also uses a good moisturizer and brushes his teeth. He also does something with the ear and nose hair, too, but I can't be bothered to tell you what. Because it's just gross. Oh, and Product! Product is good as well so you hair doesn't stick up at all ends. But in the end, darlings, it's all about the clothes. Don't dress like a hobo or the object of your affection will treat you like one. {/Edna voice} Seriously, lads. Take care of this sort of thing and you won't be wondering if it was you that turned her off, or if it was the dreaded something else.
  • Look me in the eyes, darling. Don't look at my tits or my ass. I don't mind a little surreptitious gazing because, after all, I do want to know if you're gay or not. But don't stand there, blatantly gazing at my breasts, like I'm a New York Strip and you're a pitbull, wondering best how to tackle the problem at hand. It's not likely to get you anywhere.
  • You're not in college anymore, so don't tell me I'm wearing a great shirt, but that it would look even better on your floor. Don't ask me how I like my eggs in the morning, because I'm likely to come back with the word, "UNFERTILIZED!" You're not in Kansas anymore. Leave the corn at home.
  • Touch. Touch is good. A delicate finger along my hand is good. A hand that hovers in midair around my breasts, then actually reaches hesitantly for the nipples---in a public place---is not. Remember most women like to be thought of as nice. We do not like it when men do not think of us this way.
  • Open your mouth and speak. Let the words ring forth. Women can understand nervousness. We can understand the hesitancy to make an ass out of yourself. What we cannot abide is someone who sends soulful glares from across the room for hours on end and then does nothing about it. Bleh. If you're worried about coming up with small talk, allow me to let you in on a little trick: ask questions. Then follow those questions up with other questions. The key to doing this successfully is to listen to the answers she gives you. Before you know it, you'll either find out that you have nothing in common, or you'll be embroiled in an hours long conversation that just might be the highlight of your evening. The point is, however, you won't know unless you go up and talk to her.
  • A quick note about rings: if there's something on her left hand (or yours for that matter) just don't, ok. Adultery is so not worth the hassle.
  • Don't try to be clever with your advances. Put yourself out there. Be a man, in other words. As you like to remind us every so often, you're descended from cavemen/hunter/gatherers. Go out and act like your prehistoric ancestors and try to hunt and gather. For instance, don't send her a drink; go up to her and ask her if you can buy her one instead. I can tell you from experience that if a woman is even reasonably attractive, she's had men send her drinks before. It gets old. Be fresh, unique and honest---ask her yourself.

And that's it, gents. The Cake Eater Flirtation dos and don'ts. Pretty simple stuff, on the whole.

My fellow divas, Silk, Sadie and Chrissy have their own takes on flirtation. Go read.

We also have a new feature this week. Some men have decided to get in on the Diva action and have formed, ahem, The Men's Club. Puffy (the first fish blogger, who would like you to know that despite his fins, he's ALL MALE, ALL THE TIME, BABY), The Wizard, and Phin and Zonker are the members of this exclusive little boys club and they will be preparing the Official Male Response (TM) every Wednesday to our little essays. The Wiz is up this week.

Should be fun to flip the coin, no?

Posted by Kathy at March 22, 2005 10:40 AM

OMG! You are SO informative. You mean it REALLY was something my mother drank?? I've wondered, all these years...

That explains it!!

; )

Posted by: Christina at March 22, 2005 10:55 AM

Someone used that line about the shirt on the floor? For real? In all seriousness? I'm sort of speechless.

Posted by: RP at March 22, 2005 03:40 PM

You really are the goddess of snark. Actually, the Lad uses that shirt line even now, just to make me laugh my ass off. I need to tell him to cut that crap out! My favourite lines:

"Don't ask me how I like my eggs in the morning, because I'm likely to come back with the word, "UNFERTILIZED!" You're not in Kansas anymore. Leave the corn at home."

Soooooo true.

Posted by: sadie at March 22, 2005 03:58 PM

RP: Yep.

Posted by: Kathy at March 22, 2005 05:46 PM

Kathy, did you get that "shirt" line when you were still at ISU? That sounds like the kind of drunken witticism that sounds so good when you're down to the worm at the bottom of the bottle, but makes you wince in shame the next morning.

In my defense, I was a proud "dormie" so the favorite "club in my pickup line bag" was something like "Hey, it's crowded in here, let's go for a ride on my bike. I know this GREAT curvy piece of road up by Gilbert". I swear, any action I did stumble into back then was strictly because of help from the Kawasaki Corporation. I probably owe them some kind of a tithe or something. ; )
This whole "divas" thing was a great idea. I really enjoy the insight, and I've notified the Mrs. that she should check it out too.

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at March 22, 2005 08:58 PM

Russ, that was the first pickup line I'd ever received. I was 18 and was at my first off campus party. I was so shocked someone would actually say something like that I started laughing. The guy didn't take it too well.

I lived in the dorms for three years, and then moved into the theta house when I was a senior. I was a little sister over at FarmHouse and some thetas I knew from there talked me into rushing. I do, however, know the road you're talking about up in Gilbert! Rode that one on the back of a friend's bike under a full moon in late August. One of the best night's of my life.

And, surprisingly, it was a Kawasaki, too. (This was also the bike I rode on the back of when the friend decided to take airport road at 105mph.)

Thanks for the kind words. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Posted by: Kathy at March 22, 2005 09:24 PM

Your friend "did the ton" on Airport Road???? He must have been an organ donor, right?

Any "knowledgeable" Ames biker realizes that the proper places to play "Road Warrior" games are all over towards Boone. That long stretch South of the Hwy 30 exit on I35 running up to the Skunk River was good too, but I managed to collect a few tickets from airplanes on 35, so I saved my fast runs for 2 lane blacktops out in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, the proper place to slalom through a line of beer bottles while your passenger tries to pick them up is clearly the Sav-U-More parking lot on South Duff. ; )

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at March 22, 2005 09:40 PM

Yep. And I was on the back of the bike when he did it, too. Without a helmet. In a t-shirt and shorts. EEEEEEEEEDIOT. What can I say? I was 21.

If you followed that road up by towers west, going toward Hy-Vee you could easily hit 95 mph. Did that one on the back of a friend's Nighthawk, which was the shittiest bike EVER. Rattletrap piece o' shit.

Did you ever jump the big bump on back door road out of Target? The one that took you over by the stadium. Was that Duff? Can't remember the name of it.

Posted by: Kathy at March 22, 2005 10:03 PM

Fifth Street? Nope, but I used to really wind 'er up through the residential neighborhoods West of campus & North of Lincoln Way back when I used to live out on Lincoln Swing. And yes, my helmet often sat on my coffee table at home when I went for a ride. I really miss being "ten feet tall & bulletproof".

A Nighthawk? Not exactly a "divaesque" bike there, Kathy.

Posted by: Russ from Winterset at March 23, 2005 07:23 AM
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