Flirting

A friend of mine recently accused me of flirting.
This is an alien concept to me. I don't flirt, don't know how, you could give me a book and I still wouldn't get it. Nor do I recognize it even when friends say, "Dude that guy was TOTALLY FLIRTING WITH YOU!"

Really? Was he? Who knew? Not me, clearly.

I'm so thick-headed I don't even notice when someone is making a pass at me. It's not like I'm a babe - I know this - see this post for my perspective.

True story:

I've been friends with Marie and Daniel since forever. When we all lived in The Most Beautiful City in the Pacific Northwest, I'd spend all weekend at their house. Even had my own bedroom, robe, and a toothbrush in the bath.

One night we have a party, mostly Daniel's friends from work. One Very Hot Dude (VHD) and I hit it off, we talked and danced and had a really good time. So the night is winding up and everyone is a wee bit tipsy, some lurching out, others deciding the couches and extra beds are the places to stay.

I say good night and go to my room. A few minutes later, VHD knocks.
"Can I come in?"
"Um, sure."
"I'd like to stay in here tonight, if that's okay with you."

....

"Yes of course!"

So I get up, put on my robe, AND LEAVE THE ROOM SO HE CAN HAVE THE BED.

This is how idiot I am.