On flirting

It is very easy

to escape into head-land into

the realm of frenzied imaginings

where thoughts flow, thoughts rush,

desire pours down in a torrent.

The imagination flies away

carried away on a naughty smile.

It is easy to get lost

very easy to get lost get

your head stuck in the clouds.

Calm down.

Come down.

-Head-land, Enrico S. Ponce

I like flirting. I like flirting both as a prelude to sex and as an end in itself. Sometimes I think I enjoy flirting more as the latter. There's a certain satisfaction to be had in the anonymous connection shared for the few seconds it takes to pass each other by on the street.

I used to want to be a ninja. Maybe I still do, but not as much. Anyway, when I still whole-heartedly considered it my ambition in life, I embarked on a self-study quest. I tried to learn how to throw shuriken, stand still for hours on end, and be very observant of what was going on around me. I failed miserably at the first and second tasks, but the last, well, it led me to discover my passion in life - watching people. So maybe I still can't spot the guy concealing a gun in his jacket on a crowded MRT but I sure as hell can smell out the PLU in that crowd. So there, now you know that I wasn't digressing. I was just trying to provide some build-up. Because yes, I'm random like that.

It starts with a cursory inspection, upon stepping into the train. Most days, I am out of luck and everyone else in the car is either 1) a sweaty laborer or b) a woman. On my not-so-lucky days, there are cute, albeit uninterested, guys I can content myself with appreciating. And then sometimes the stars align and lo and behold. Magic happens.

I just love how, like two magnets, our eyes are drawn to each other. Only for a few seconds, but a few seconds longer than is really necessary. And then he looks away, demure daw kasi. I stare on, defiant, challenging. I know he feels me watching him, and he can't help it. There. He's looking at me again. I raise an eyebrow. What? A faint faint hint of a smile. Then I look away, watch the buildings float by outside the window. Now he's the one staring. I can feel it on the nape of my neck. It's my stop. I glance at him and throw a naughty wink. Goodbye.