Flirting for Food
On my way to my summer class last night I did a bad thing. I had just finished a 10 kilometre run at the gym and I was dying for some sustenance. It was 20 minutes past 6pm, and the Lebanese resto that will remain nameless was obviously closed for the evening, but the guy that is usually there was still behind the counter. I scurried over and asked if they were closed, knowing full well they were. This guy normally flirts with me mercilessly, and for the most part my reaction is one of tolerance. But damn it, I was HUNGRY. I gave a pleading look and, my god; I think I even pouted a little. I flirted for food and voila! Instant shish taouk sandwich!
I only really realized what I had done later on while I was choking back my sandwich on the metro, and I was a little ashamed of myself. I’m not the kind of woman that flirts for things; I think it means that you have to deal with reciprocal flirting. Generally I am offended when guys flirt with me when I just want a chillatte (that’s right you second cup barista, I got your number!) or a shish taouk. I