The Compro-Flirt
Some times I’m not sure whether I’m trying to flirt with someone or not. The coffee shop was playing some crazy music from all over the World, like, a French song followed by some crazy Spanish dudes shouting to a dance tune.
“Heh, this music… right?” Surely anybody would agree this was a crazy mix.
“I kinda like it…” she said.
“Yeah, it’s alright…” This reply doesn’t require any thought. I put my foot in my mouth so often, this reply is just a reflex at this point.
I’m going to call this the compro-flirt. That way the act is as awkward as the word describing it.
After compro-flirting I normally pretend like I believe what I just said for some sufficient amount of time. I think next time I’m just gonna self-deprecatingly call myself out on it. That’ll either be funny or completely dumb.