Flirting

Mademoiselle A accused me of flirting with a cute Norwegian guy at the workshop. I have no problems admitting that I flirt if I do it, but this time I really did not. He was just a very nice guy to talk with, and even he probably was attracted to our stand because of the beautiful Mademoiselle A, he was hanging on me like a faithful puppy the rest of the evening. Very touching, but not flirting.

After passing 30 something years, the guys don’t flirt with me any more. Period. When I lived in Copenhagen for years ago, a sweet guy at the piscine municipale always used to let me in without paying, but this never happens any more. Never. Now I have to pay a double entrance and when I protest, the employee just tells me to look at the mirror and lose some weight. If a guy offers me a drink or pays my dinner, it is because of the business opportunity he is after. This is why a girl should get a considerable salary raise after passing the 35 years.

So if a miracle happens and a guy flirts with me, I am quite troubled. Like on the flight home from Paris. The flight attendant was flirting with me so obviously that even Mademoiselle A thought it was embarrassing. Every time he passed my seat, he just had to talk with me, touch my arm or my hand, study the book I was reading, give me complimentary coffees etc. Well, I don’t’ share men’s fantasies about the airplane crew, in fact, quite the contrary. I can’t help wondering what on earth is wrong with these people willing to work on conditions similar to concentration camp; the staff being the Jews needing to put up with the passenger Nazis. Now I suspect that SAS has a black list on the passengers, which had registered me being on this flight. And to pacify me, the modern version of Goebbels, they had asked one of the gay stewards to pretend to be a hetero guy and flirt with me. He did a good job, I am still speechless.