I flirted with a man last night.
Yep. I stood in the parking lot at the park, wearing oh-so-unflattering bicycle shorts and a baseball cap covering my helmet hair, and flirted shamelessly.
In fact, I invited him to spend Saturday night at a hotel with me.
Well, me and eight other people.
There's zero chance he'll join us, but the simple fact remains: I met an unmarried man my age, talked and laughed with him, touched his arm while making a point, and smiled unrelentlingly. (Didn't realize the smile thing til my face hurt later.)
If I were an entirely different sort of person, I'd put Molly on a pedestal and make burnt offerings.
Wait. We're cooking breakfast on the trail Saturday morning. I could burn a piece of turkey bacon for her. Or maybe not. Maybe I'll just close my eyes, again and again, and thank God for leading me back to my bike this summer.
9 comments:
Atta girl.
Where there's flirting, can marriage proposal #9 be far behind?
ITB.
Love it. Love you. Love all your breakthroughs of late.
I'm grinning ear to ear for you. Unrelentingly. Love.
And then again maybe he will join you.
You go, girl! Rock that bike!
Good for you! Even if nothing comes of it, you had fun.
Go, Hot Stuff!! This made me giggle, thinking of your face hurting. LMAO! AWESOME. :)
...I was going to type something inappropriate and naughty. I am holding back. I'll let you imagine.
;)
whadaregatalkinabout...you look good in lycra, you can flirt with me anytime.
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