To Flirt or...

I was 18, I was pretty, and I was WAY too serious. Which was probably why I didn't have a boyfriend in the first place...

It was my first year of university. Studious and shy, I was far better acquainted with quiet corners of the campus library than I was with any of my fellow students.

Once in a while it occurred to me that it would be nice to have a boyfriend, in spite of the fact that I hadn't the faintest idea how one might secure such a prize. Though I puzzled much over the situation, it seemed that formulating a strategy to attract and retain the attention of the opposite sex was a problem more recalcitrant than any contained within the calculus assignments I poured over each afternoon...

Then one spring day... as I settled into a seat in the science building lecture hall, eager for chemistry (my fav) class to begin, a handsome young man seated himself directly in front of me. Actually, he was a step below and in front of me, as the lecture hall was somewhat like an amphitheater, with tiers of students at their desks looking down at the instructor.

Suddenly a brilliant and devious notion flashed through my head. "If I 'accidently' knock my pen forward off the edge of the desk..." I reasoned, "...he'll pick it up and... we'll smile, and make eye contact... and I'll say 'Thank you!' and... maybe make some quip about how 'gravity works!' or what a nice day out it is..."

My heart started to beat faster. I could do this. It was a moment away if I wanted. I could do it. But should I? Should an honest person resort to such trickery? Was it not selfish and vain? But yet was it not harmless? And was it not easy? But was it not deceitful? The questions, the reservations, the possibilities, whirled in my brain. As the seconds wore on, I found myself virtually paralyzed with an anxiety akin to panic...

No. I can't do it.

Pens are for taking notes. Seriously.
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