The “F” Word; Hummm…

ichas8440Graphics_TheFWord_2013Starbucks, “The International Espresso Cafe”, both directly across the street from where she and I sipped our afternoon delights.  She, every now and then stole a glance of “Yours Truly“, and way before she knew that I knew I was being watched, I watched.

Blowin’ the steam from my drink while maintaining the mental interest reflected within my eyes, knowing that attention was everywhere but…  In her direction.  This action spawned a pro-action as we both blew the steam from our cups and smiled as we caught the sight of each other peering from up under our eyebrows.  She allowed her nostrils one half of a stimulating flare, then.  Blinked slowly as the lips spread completing her smile, and I.  Positioned my head to the left as my eyes looked to the right, only this time, minus the under-eyebrow look.  No, this time I opted for the balanced eye optical stare.  We both laugh.  That’s when she asked me why is it that Irish born in America refer to themselves as Irish-Americans just as second Gen. Italians born in American do just the same, but.  When those with the same heritage as mine attempt to claim national pride a collective sigh goes up and we are demanded to stop being so racist.

Lookin’ down into her cup of hot Java, steam rising, encompassing her head, eyes still fixed on me, she wasn’t about to wait on an answer.  Privately she knew I knew I wasn’t made by those who claim to “know of me”.  And in being such a “G“, I could care less about those on the outside hoping to get a glimpse of what was really goin’ on within.  We continued to flirt.

She was a client, married just as I.  The wedding ring signifying the union between she and the one committed to, expressed everything but a bond of enslavement.  Oh yeah, it was a rock most would have assumed only purchasable by those of Celeb status.  Which is to say, this union was one of mutual admiration.  Same can be defined when considering the dynamics identified when…  Engaged in the Flirt.

What are those dynamics?  Simply said, confidence in self.  Pleased in who you are in relations to where you may find yourself.  Recognition of the one you’ve sighted who has graciously and most commandingly expressed those same characteristics in a non-intrusive way, saying.  “You flirt?  I flirt.  Shall we…  Flirt?

Because of the restrictive nature of Western Society and…  To a larger extent, every other societies who thinks they are the chosen ones and their ways are the only ways.  When any of theirs and those who aren’t have been discovered as having a penchant to flirt, they are collectively frowned upon.  It’s said this is a behavior that leads to other things that should be left outside of, “your thing“.  Whenever my ears pick up on this, I wonder to myself; If it wasn’t for the flirt how in the hell would any of us have arrived?  Oh yeah, it all began with one or the other’s willingness to smile and profile.  Wink and steal a peek.

I once took a moment to absorb the slipping on of a shoe.  This “dress rehearsal” was being done by a woman who wasn’t mine, and… The woman with me, having noticed my observation of the mechanics of the woman in action.  Immediately went into full reactive mode.  Striking me.  Articulating how dare I diss her like that.  Not shocked at the strike but conscious of the source of her madness, I didn’t take my eyes off of the shoeless foot, but…  Managed to say.  “If it was your foot, exposed.  Bare.  In sight of public viewing.  Smooth like that, void of all ash because you weren’t about to be caught out, trying on shoes without remembering to lotion up way before you even considered steppin’ out.  Wouldn’t you be pleased someone took the time to…  Admire you?”  Mind you, I said all this without looking at the one who assumed she had been dissed.  Flirt.  Two hit with one shot.

The one I was with, relaxed, retracted the claws while snuggling closer to me.  A “white flag” so she thought I thought.  I knew this to be straight out embarrassment.  Nothin’ more, nothin’ less.  The one who was shoeless, aware of her display, smiled, calf muscles appeared to ease-up on the tension allowing for the toes to sorta’ flex as she twirled her ankle around just a ‘lil more.  When she reached down and ran her fingers along her thigh, as if to keep ’em from parting.  I knew she knew, the flirt.

Flirt, it’s a two way thing.  What makes it a dumb move is when it is a forced thing.  Like most methods of personal communications, identification of the positive receptiveness should be first and foremost. But…  Like most things sensual, Moms and Pops didn’t tell ‘ya all about this aspect of life.

FOLK assume when one flirts they have “evil-in” and are comin’ from some dark place.  I ask, why does everything have to start with a negative connotation?  Life is two fold and evil is evident just as good is.  Now, tell me something I don’t know.  With this being the operative factor why can’t the flirt just be comin’ from an initial positive combustible source?

Males have often approached my pre-disposition to the flirt, usually with a show of total disdain, and.  I wouldn’t change my flow regardless of what they assumed.  Now those who’ve engaged me in deeper dialogue.  Seeking clarification on my motivations, somehow, achieved a higher level of…  Understanding.  Mainly because they’ve wanted to do the same, just didn’t have the insight on self to attempt the; flirt.

In controlling the masses as in people, society, etc, the initial move is to recognize the influence.  In my circle it’s not about control but.  Influence.  Same points of demarcation just a difference  in sequential order.  Not just of kind but.  Right, the self.  When happiness is the operative factor it’s easy to recognize the components making life open up those areas where happiness can be extracted.  Exactly why I sipped the “hot stuff” while knowin’ “Hot Stuff” was seated right in front of me.  More so, knowin’ that while I was shopping with one woman and took the time to notice another, neither.  At least once both knew why  the attraction was there in the first place knew I meant no disrespect regardless of our new place.

To “Dial It Down” just a ‘lil bit mo, the one I was shopping had to ‘fess-up to herself and recognize the flirt was how we came to be from day one.  Exactly like the one I sipped with knew I knew that regardless of who “they” thought I was.  No matter who “they” thought I was ‘pose to be, I was still.  Gonna be me.  Which is probably why she noticed me amongst all the other’s who wanted to be!

Age restrictions on the Flirt, are there?”  Most assuredly.  Especially so if you are focused on those on the outside lookin’ in.  8 to eighty, some cripple, others maybe blind, still none of this should prevent you from enjoying your life.  The flirt should be perceived as another level of confirmation of life’s ‘lil pleasures.  One thing I know should be kept in mind is the age appropriation concept when doin’ anything.  This can best be pointed to using a quick analogy.  “Babies don’t drive automobiles, at least not before their time.”  Same holds true to the Flirt.  All things are best when maintained within their environment.  If you are locked into a wheelchair don’t even consider steppin’ to the supple, sexually provocative one.  First it’s not gonna work.  Oh you may be looked upon as cute, but.  Monkeys and Baboons got a monopoly on cute.  Factor this in and ask yourself this; “Is this where I wanna fit in?

Whoa, I’m the other half to an item, can I flirt?”  What is this item thing?  Sounds as if you can easily be grabbed off a shelf and replaced.  From canned to cloned, the end result is a derivative from the same process.  The Flirt is not anything confined because you find yourself committed to another.  Oh yes, I understand some are challenged and refer to themselves as “items”.  With me, I’m not a line item and won’t ever subscribe to such.  While circulating one day, a woman standing behind the window display couldn’t get out the door quick enough to.  As she thought, put me in my place because she assumed I was engaged in flirting with her.  While she attempted to make her point up comes the “attraction of my heart”.  Feelin’ the intensity of the vibe she connects her arm into mine and says.  “Are you married and if not, can I steal you for a moment?  Oh it will only be for a moment, if my husband came around he’d probably wanna do some threesome thing and I’m just not into it.  At least not today.”  Ladies and Gents, I give you Wifey.

The sales associate who felt she had to rush outside, putting me in my place had no idea who I was.  What she functioned from was a script provided by her handlers.  Her mind, like a movie had already been pre-empted.  She assumed my probing eyes which were focused on the mannequin had to have been trained on her, and.  Disrobing in some sense.  Luckily for her, Wifey intervened, saving ‘dat ass.

The Flirt, all transitional.  Sorta’ as a means of emotional/psychological progression.  Hence, even if I was “teasing” this sales associate, it wasn’t her place to slide into mine.  “Truth Be Told“, she was way outta line and Wifey gave her a pass.  Only because she knew the content of this woman’s vision.  Much like The Flirt.  Even when married, when you know who you are it’s a behavior allowing you to smile with what you are.  Mainly because The Flirt ain’t makin’ you or anybody else move off their spot.  That only happens when there is no dawn, only darkness.

Psssss;  When you don’t wanna be perceived as anything “they’ve”  categorized you to be, reflect and accept what you are meant to be.  I was rogue before it became trendy.  I was out side the box before most even knew they were boxed.  What I didn’t know was.  It takes time to define before you can.  Refine.  Flirt anyone…


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