Back when I was man bait…

I know what boys like
I know what guys want
I know what boys like
Boys like, boys like me

–The Waitresses/I Know What Boys Like

I am, or at least I used to be, very good at luring men.  When I was 20, a schoolmate noticed that I was not having any trouble attracting men and asked me how I managed. Apparently my charms are not readily apparent or something. Maybe  because I appeared to avoid  anything resembling normal social behaviors like talking to people.

Envious School-mate:  “I just don’t see how you do it. It’s not like you’re charming. You barely even talk.”

Me (in my head):  “For one thing, I have great boobs.  I’m also moderately good looking and I dress like Cyndi Lauper on a particularly slutty day. You are wearing something that looks like a gray wool potato sack.”

Me (out loud): “Let’s sit in this sidewalk cafe and have a beer. As soon as someone good looking walks by, I’ll show you what to do. It’s all in the eyes.”

We were in France, so it took a while for someone acceptably attractive to walk by.  He wasn’t French, which explains the good looks. I told  Envious that she should pay attention because I was going after the guy in the jean jacket. I lowered my head slightly, took a sip of my beer and as he approached he looked over. Of course he looked over. I was wearing a shiny gold lace dress and high top sneakers with “viva la droga” written on them. How could he not look? As he slowed down, I raised my eyes to look at him, gave a half smile and quickly lowered them. He kept walking.

 

Envious laughed and said something about losing my touch. I  quietly said “he’ll be back.”

He took another several steps and  turned around. Got a very slightly larger smile for his effort as I looked up at him through my bangs.  When he got to our table, he stopped and asked if he could buy me another beer. Envious just looked confused.

 

I turned to Envious after we finished our beer and asked if she had any questions.  All she said was “I still don’t get it. How did you know whe would come back?”  I shrugged in my best Gallic way and  replied “I just knew.”

Envious: “So you just sit there, look shy and bat your eyes?”

Me: “Pretty much. I must be unintimidating or something. Or it’s the cleavage.”

When you’re 20 years old and cute, it just isn’t that much of an effort to attract men.

 

I don’t know how much that technique would work for other people, but it definitely worked for me.

 

A little too well as it turns out.

I ended up marrying that guy.

 

 

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miche_poitiers

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