On Flirting and Such

Whenever I find myself unable to escape from running errands, I make a case of making those chores as less mind-numbingly boring as possible by flirting the pants out of every lucky receptionist girl I run into. People surprisingly appreciate it, even though the people behind the counter meet hundreds every day, but they are rarely treated more than ATM machines.

DISCLAIMER: I suggest you don’t try this in Jordan though, it doesn’t work as much and the results are unpleasant to say the least, so you’ve been forewarned.

Me: C’mon help me out here (flashing the widest smile, leaning into the counter)
Receptionist Girl (hesitating): Ok let me see what I can do
Me: Wow, I will really like you if you sort this out for me.
Receptionist Girl (smiling): Ok I’ll remove that guy (pointing to some hapless bystander) and give you his slot, only because you were smiling and he was not.
Me: Thanks (still smiling) Em. Bye

Even though I couldn’t see my facial expression, but I was blinking away my utter shock and stupor.

Of course, there are undesirable side-effects to flirting, like everything good in this world. Such effects include but are not limited to: jam-packed email inboxes with loads of rubbish including “What is Love?” forwards, baby pictures and Horoscopes of “Know your Tree?”

And there’s always the embarrassing blunder.

Me (attempting to break the ice): How come you speak Arabic so well?
Receptionist Girl #2(slightly embarrassed): Because I am Arab, I am from Oman, Muscat.
Me (to myself): Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit
Receptionist Girl#2: It’s alright, everyone thinks I am Hindi.
Me: I didn’t mean it in any demeaning way, honest! Some of them are really pretty. (She was)
Receptionist Girl#2: Yeah like they say in your tongue, [Insert Lebanese sentence that I can't seem to recall ]
Me (annoyed): I’m not Lebanese, even though I am cute and good-looking
Me: Guess where I’m from!
Receptionist Girl#2 quickly glances onto my paperwork.
Me: Ha Ha Ha. You cheated!
RG2: He He He! I did!
Me: Ok no presents for you!
Furthermore, RG2 went on to blabber in Hindi to her colleague.
RG2: Baling bing ring ting sing bing bing (Hindi sounds like Crazy Frog singing to me)
Me: You’re not talking about me are you? How come you speak Hindi so well?
RG2: He He He, no walla! I was saying how packed this place is.

It was an unworkable situation. That’s the farthest I could go after my initial blunder.

Other than this, there are different side effects including prying questions and the When-Are-We-Getting-Married? syndrome.

(3rd to 4th conversation)
Girl: Do you have a girlfriend?
Me: Yes I have one in every municipality of Jordan, for safe-keeping purposes.
Girl: Why do you say that? Do you count us anything other than one?
Me(gasping): whaaaaaa?
Me(to myself): We’re an “us” now? When did we get to that?
Girl: You know too many girls
Me(gasping): Okaaaaay. See ya!

But by the end of the day, all flirts, even the flirtiest of them, want to go back home, to a warm smile, and a hot-baked dinner spiced with herbs and love, and sleep on a silky shoulder and dream away of nothing at all.