My best friend, Jen, is pretty hott. (No, this is not her pictured above...) The other day while she was picking up a few items at Whole Foods (in Denver), this young guy came over and asked her: "Huh, so how is that? Is that stuff good?" She looked down at the last item still affixed to her hand. It was a box of Raisin Bran her boyfriend asked her to pick up for him. "Raisin Bran? Uh, I guess it's good... Raisin Bran?!?" She replied in her most baffled tone.
The guy feeling a bit rejected, blandly responded with, "Well, I guess I should try it." Jen smiled, and then walked away. A few minutes later she called to tell me: "I think someone just hit on me. But it was *so* awkward, I'm not sure."
Jen told me this, not to brag, but to point out that people can use any excuse to hit on another person. Raisin Bran is a prime example because, as we all know, it's the least sensual of the breakfast cereals. (Frankly, I didn't know anyone under 57 ate it. I think my Polish Grandmother loved it. That and Grapenuts. Sexy.) But I digress.
This poor guy saw a woman he fancied, and desperately sought out the quickest way to start chatting her up. Unfortunately for him, his attempt bombed, but we have to give the guy credit. How many people have we seen across an aisle, or waiting for the metro, but we can't muster up the courage or the savvy to say something witty enough to capture their full attention?
I am the king of missed opportunities. Seriously. Having been freakishly shy as a kid, I have tried to force myself to be more social as I've aged, but it still seems like a feat at times to get back out there. Case in point: There is a woman that I fancy right now, that I met at an art auction a few months ago. I was assisting with the catering crew to butter up all of the patrons, and massage them into buying more art, raising funds for my friend's gallery downtown. There was one woman in particular who caught my eye. She looked like a younger, hotter version of Debbie Harry.
As I worked the crowd that night, I refilled folks' beverages, and found myself refilling this woman's champagne flute a few too many times. At one point, I remember leaning in, and boldly telling her how amazing she looked in her vibrant vintage gown, and flawless make up. She was a vision that night.
Every time I swept through the crowd, she caught my eye, and would send a coy grin my way. At the end of the evening, she came into the kitchen of the venue to thank us all. She saw me out of the corner of her eye, and turned to me at say: "And YOU... Heh. There you are..." As we were all leaving, pouring into the very busy streets of DC, she literally stormed out into traffic in her leopard print coat to shut down all traffic so that we could cross the street. Sadly, we didn't need to cross the street, but I so urgently wanted to go in whatever direction she was traveling at the moment.
Fearing I'd never see her again, I asked around and found out more about her. I sent her a friend request on Facebook (pathetic, I know!), stating that I was the "short guy in the tortoise shell Buddy Holly glasses that told (her that she) looked amazing that night." She accepted my request. Step one, down! And then most recently, I've run into her at some other art events in town. When I saw her, I nervously clammed up the first time. But instead, she came over to me and said: "Hey, I remember YOU! You were at that art auction! YOU got me drunk!!!" She exclaimed feverishly, while poking my shoulder with her firm index finger.
(I need to point out here: These are the moments that we wish for in life... Those fleeting moments when the hott girl not only looks your way, but comes over to *you* AND somewhat flirtatiously strikes up a conversation. Now, I need to further point out: These are the moments that fill me with such paralysis and awkward bumbling, nervousness, that I completely lose my cool and just seem dumb. God, I wish I could sedate myself into *only* having witty repartee. No dice!)
The next day, I ran into her at another event, where she and the friend I accompanied began chatting. She noticed me behind our friend in common, and said: "Hey, I'm seeing you two days in a row now." My friend reintroduced us, and then slyly snuck away to give the two of us some time to catch up, and find out more about each other. She's pretty fucking interesting. I have to admit, she's someone that I'd like to get to know better. Thinking of excuses to run into her again, or invite her to things that I hope may be of interest. Trying not to strike out like the Raisin Bran guy, but understanding more about that fleeting feeling of urgency when you don't want your curious enthusiasm to trip up the momentum.
I think I've realized that I was much better at flirting before I transitioned because all my cards were already on the table. I could be coy, because they knew what they were getting themselves into, even if they had only dated bio-guys before. Now that I pass as a guy 100% of the time, there is this weird reticence surfacing in me, like if I flirt, I run the risk of the other person taking me up on the offer, and then what?
The friend that accompanied me to this last art event (acting as my wingman) asked me, "So, when do you tell them you're trans? What rule of thumb do you use to know it's the right time?" Um, how about – I don't have one? How about – I have no fucking clue about how or when to tell people? How's that for an answer?
My last relationship seemed somewhat thwarted by my lack of flirtatious exchange. In the very beginning, she started telling me waaaay too many details about her last few boyfriends, and I felt seriously cock-blocked. It kind of shut me down emotionally, and I was a bit stuttery after that. I used to be pretty suave with this shit. I used to know how to make women swoon, and leave their boyfriends for me. Not that I want to be a home-wrecker, but it's just that I want to return to that smooth, Victorian sensibility – that sensuality that lies just beneath the surface, so close, but that might evaporate if exposed too quickly. That slow burning tension that drives everyone crazy in the most seductive of ways. That used to be my charm. And frankly, I miss it. I miss that tension, and my old ways.
Just like that guy in Aisle 5, I think I need more practice. (Practice makes perfect, right?) Balls to the wall with this learning curve shit! I just gotta start, and see what feels right. So, watch out ladies, we're gonna test this theory about tension!
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