How to flatter a working mother who’s been happily married to the same man for almost 15 years

From time to time, men hit on me.

Not a lot, but enough. How about that? I no longer repel.

Either smiling more than scowling, losing all that baby weight, getting in shape, figuring out what to do with my hair and discovering clothes that fit actually makes a difference, or middle-aged guys are goddamn desperate.

Going with desperate?

Perhaps.

One thing is for certain, most men in their thirties and forties are no longer skilled in the art of seduction or flattery, if they ever were.

Did those waistbands and wallets get bigger and so they no longer feel the need to try? Or did their skills stay put in the 1980s along with Andrew Dice Clay’s career?

I find this development a bit disturbing.

Believe it or not, inside this 32D chest beats the heart of a compassionate woman. I have a hard time rejecting a man with the typical, “This is inappropriate, how dare you, I’m a married woman.”

Even if I wasn’t married, these guys with their webcams (I can still see your belly!), drunken ramblings, zero grooming skills and ridiculous requests (no, I will not sleep with you and your wife) would never hold one iota of interest for me.

In the end, before erupting in giggles after I turn off the computer or hang up the phone, I make these pathetic boys feel better while turning them down at the same time.

It’s a gift.

And I’m sick of it.

There is a way to properly flirt, hint, and suggest.

First of all, tuck in your shirt and brush your teeth. Clip those goddamn ear hairs and blow that shit out of your nose.

Chew with your mouth closed.

Stop interrupting. You’re not that interesting.

Take a grammar class and consult a dictionary the next time you’re confused.

Keep all fingers out of your nose, eyes, mouth, belly button, and ass. What are you, five?

Now that we’ve got that straight, what should you say? Believe it or not, less is more. Smile and make eye contact. Learn how to spell. It’s not that difficult.

Sample script – pick *one* because desperation is not hot:

“I could get lost in those eyes.”

“You got any laundry that needs folding?”

“How are you?”

“Talk to me.”

“You’re beautiful when you smile.”

“I’ll be happy to fix that.”

“You are hysterical; I read your site every day.”

“I think about you all the time.”

“Your sons are brilliant and adorable. They take after you.”

“I find this story about your swollen ankles fascinating. Not sleepy at all. Keep going.”

“I will never make you watch Anchorman.”

“Can I ask you for some political advice?”

There.

I still won’t fuck you.

But at least you’ll leave a flattered woman in your wake as well as a number one spot should an opening present itself.

Besides, becoming a fantasy is a whole lot better than becoming a joke. Girls talk. Whenever two or more are gathered to laugh at something stupid you said, your penis shrinks another half an inch.

And let’s face it – you can’t afford to lose much more. That growing belly doesn’t cover shit.