Workin' on my Game (aka...I Got no Game...)

Hey!  How you doin'?

*wink*

Hey.  How you doin'?

*lip bite*

Heeeeeyyyyyyyyy, how you doin'?

*head nod*

Hi there.  How are you?

*eye batting*

Do you like coffee?  I mean....do you drink coffee...like with other people???

Would you like to drink coffee with me?  I mean, go out for coffee with me?

Hi.  My name is Catherine.  Miller.  Catherine Miller.  Do you need to know my last name?

If you haven't figured it out...I'm working on my game, trying to find my mo-jo...

Someone asked me the other day if I was ready to start dating.  I can honestly say that I am.  I've worked on the majority of my past issues, and any residual issues I may have will probably have to be worked through once I'm actually in a relationship with someone.  Poor bastard, huh??  But I can't, off the top of my head, think of anything that I haven't recognized as a flaw in myself and resolved to fix.  I won't know what else is wrong with me until it rears its ugly head.  I apologise to my future boyfriend in advance.

Now that I've determined I'd like to be in a relationship, and what I'm looking for in a partner (I officially declared 2013 as the year I find my husband...a little presumptuous, I know...) I realized I don't know - or I've forgotten - how to flirt.

Let me tell you...in my day, I was a good flirt.  It got me into a bit of trouble, yes, but I was good at it. 

Oh, but I was young then. 

I had a nice figure. 

No grey hairs.  No wrinkles.  No stretch marks.  No baggage. 

I wasn't a mom.  It's sometimes difficult to separate yourself from that aspect of your life.  Especially when it's been the only aspect for almost four years (with the exception of a horrid blind date here and a POF disaster there...)

I have my eye on a couple of good prospects.  I don't know how to approach it though.  The fact that I call them *prospects* is probably not a good start.  People always willing to give advice, tell me to just go up to them and introduce myself and ask if they want to go for coffee.  What's the worst that can happen, they say.

Uhhhh, they could say no.

Or I could work myself up to it, and practice over and over in my head, "Hello kind sir.  I've noticed you have been standing alone for quite some time now and was wondering if I could ask the pleasure of your company for a spot of tea..." in my best British accent, of course.  But no matter how eloquent I know I sound in my head, I'm pretty sure it's going to come out like this, "uh....wha.... ummmm....hiiiiiiii...I...uh....was....uh....huh?" and then it is quite possible I would choke on my own saliva, because I'm not going to lie...it's happened before, and it's never graceful, nor un-embarrassing.

Instead, I ignore the person I have my eye on (figuratively) because I (literally) avoid eye contact.  Even when they're standing right beside me.  I look at my phone.  I look at the ground.  I basically make myself look as unapproachable as possible.  I don't want to look too eager, you know.  That's a total turn off for men. 

I'm working on a plan right now, though.  It involves tripping them, and then offering to help.  I kinda like it because it puts me in the drivers seat.  

Who looks like the fool now, hmmmmm?