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The Compro-Flirt

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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.