This posting is courtesy of The Blushing Ladies. Namely, the blushing lady Gracie who asked readers to answer these queries:

When’s the last time you flirted with a stranger?

Did they blush? Did you?

How did you feel?

Did you do anything about it ~ masturbation, taking that heat to your partner counts!

When’s the last time I flirted with a stranger?

I don’t suppose flirting with Prince William (in my head) when he broke up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago counts. Ah, well. He did almost propose to me. Unfortunately, I told him I couldn’t handle that not-quite-sunny London weather (or the effort I’d have to put into ignoring his father’s ears at tea) and I declined his imaginary proposal (for now). Perhaps if we could talk about moving to the Bahamas during winter? I’ll bring it up with him next time.

I fear my answers to these questions might be less than interesting. The last time I flirted with a total stranger was last winterish. I had just moved to a new city to look for work and was constantly having things delivered. A lack of transporation has it’s drawbacks. Well, now that I think about it, having no car is the reason for this story. The UPS guy for my apartment complex made more stops at my place in 3 months than my roommate. (My first time out of the parent’s house! I needed sheets and everything.)

I didn’t move with anything practical (like a space heater for that 20 degree temperature difference from the city I’d moved from) and was constantly waiting on Target, Best Buy and J.C. Penney to make my room feel less like a box storage space and more like a bedroom. I can’t remember if the first time I flirted with the UPS guy was when he was delivering my deluxe-sized neck cushion pillow thingie or my TV/VCR/DVD. Probably the TV. I distinctly remember batting my lashes so he would bring it all the way into my bedroom instead of leaving it outside in the 40-something weather or just inside the front door. And that nice man did it! I actually have feminine wiles somewhere. Maybe.

Did either of us blush?

Nah, but I think I offered him a cookie or something. I was always swiping them from the apartment manager’s office. I know. So romantic. Me blush? Nah. I think my flirting with him was more about my laziness than anything else at that point. By the time I actually started finding him attractive, I blushed before I could even say hello. LOL I’m horrible about that. It’s easy for me to flirt with someone I don’t find attractive (especially if I want something), but I lose all confidence with someone I really like and want to impress.

How did I feel?

Helpless, as I always feel with men. It’s so weird. I was getting hit on left and right by men I didn’t want to talk to, but the one I was starting to like I couldn’t get up the nerve to ask out. Youth and innocence are a disadvantage for me. I need more practical experience at this game.

Did I do anything about it?

I got lots of things delivered and smiled a lot when I signed for them. Oh. Not what you wanted to know? I dragged him into my lair by the front of those khaki slacks and we had mad hot monkey sex on top of my roommate’s raggedy dining room table (after moving aside the assorted cat toys, unpaid bills and, of course, the damn cats. yes cats PLURAL. I hated my roommate’s cats. sorry, that’s another entry, isn’t it?) until he screamed for mercy. I probably shouldn’t have tried to bend his leg like that, but it seemed like a damn good idea at the time.

What? You know I’m lying? Well, I never!

Oh. Wait. I did say in a previous entry that I’ve been celibate for a while, didn’t I? Yeah. That. Oh, well that does kind of give me away, doesn’t it? I never did anything useful like ask him out. I think I was building up to it. Course, not finding a job and moving someplace rent free kind of got in the way, but he was nice to strike up a conversation with when I just happened to be walking around outside during his usual delivery time to my apartment complex. Oh, don’t give me that look. It was totally a coincidence! Really!

Forgive me, I am so repressed. This being picky about sex partners thing has it’s drawbacks and one of them is reminiscing way too much about things that could’ve been. The good thing is that I have an outlet. I wrote “Special Delivery”, a short story about a woman who gets up close and very personal with the hot delivery man. I swear it’s a work of fiction, but I almost wish it wasn’t. Now Gracie, look what you’ve gone and done! I’m going to have to finish these M&Ms now and open my copy of Esquire to stare at these pics of Angelina (and will her to eat a sandwich).


Anyone up for a weekend drive upstate to check on a UPS delivery?