I admit, the blowback from my most recent glame adventure in flirting has made me a little cranky.  I have been running the scenario by some people, to see if I have missed anything, and sure the sample is obviously going to be skewed toward a pro-Senior Senior, anti-GSS result.  I would hope, however, that my friends would let me know if I did something even slightly off the rails.  I may have even spent some time thinking of synonyms for GSS.  Don’t worry, I haven’t wasted that much time on it.

Today, I have been trying to think of interpretations that would not leave him being a douchebag in this scenario.  After all, I still have to work with the guy, and if there is some way that he did not behave in the tool-like fashion of which I suspect him, I would prefer to go with that one.  Maybe I’m being paranoid, and he didn’t pull co-workers aside and reveal to them I gave him (unbidden) my phone number, or that I have an unrequited crush on him (sure, I do, but at least I have the decency to blog about it semi-anonymously, and not flaunt it all over work).  I would rather not have my errors in judgement trumpeted around the workplace for all to gossip about.  Maybe it was just a coincidence.  I realize that it is not the most likely scenario, but I would prefer not to be betrayed.  I would prefer to have my business be my business, unless I decide otherwise.  I would prefer to think a grown man would not act in a needlessly juvenile fashion.

Of course, I need to wait until Tuesday to find any of this out.  Well, I suppose I could try to force the issue earlier, but I would rather not.  It is my belief that a few days for simmering down is in everyone’s best interest.  Also, if he was spooked by the phone number incident, an e-mail from me is only going to be creepier.  I suppose blogging about this is a smidge creepy, but I do try to change the names to protect the guilty (no one’s innocent here).

It is the end of an era, so to speak.  I really dug having a crush; the will-he-or-won’t-he aspect turned out to be the least interesting part of the process for me.  It was nice to get up and feel that I had a reason for looking my best (though it is my thought that my primary reason is that it makes me feel better).  It was nice to feel excited about something – I have so much that is much of the same, that a little mild electricity was good for me.

All these years, I’ve assumed that I’m not very good at flirting because I am, at heart, still the chronically nerdy 13 year-old girl I once was.  That may have been true once, and at times, may still be true intermittently; I think the real issue is that I’m not one for gamesmanship.  I prefer directness.  It means a career in politics is out for me, thank God.