Happiness is a cigar called flirting – Day 2- Complete experience

Got myself ready to go. Let me see, my every day wear: jogging pants- black, t-shirt-gray, no bra (girls if YOURS are still independently standing, do not support them with the bra’s, u can get cancer and guys in this country just need some excitement), slippers, some make up, hair style “ I’ve just got out from the bed “ (that CAN be sexy, true??)

Oh dear, no wonder that I’m still single, 5 month after my divorce went through. This is a serious stuff, this experiment, you cannot go out like this, says the smart voice in me. I’m the mother of two, driver, worker, cook, cleaner, administrator, handy-man, gardener, and I just do not have time to make myself every morning pretty. Anyhow if you guys want to see me all straightened up, please make an appointment with me. Note: When I’m working I do wear the bra. And for my defense: I mend myself, I always wear lace, it is just not visible.

Oke, red sweeter and some perfume will do. Red usually does the trick. It did it yesterday, at least.

Now my child. Oh dear, I’ll have to bring my youngest in to my experiment!!! Wonder what his father and the social services in The Netherlands would have to say about it?! Anyhow, he is a little man, he could use some education on time. And no one will show his intimate parts yet, hopefully! Wear him red too, he is anyhow handsome little fellow. I might not get too many enthusiastic men getting all horny on me, but on the other hand, it is a good advertising “ I really do make beautiful babies” and for guys from macho cultures “I only make boys”. It explain also, my slightly swollen belly (she mind herself, just not have time to go to gym and lose this pregnancy weight). Well I never said I’m a movie star, remember?

Get out of the house and smile, you beautiful women!

Here comes my young neighbor, handsome one, slash smile. He missed me and anyhow I’m friendly with his lovely wife. We do have saying in Serbia: do not shit where you eat, so it is better this way.

Second comes a pick up guy. UU I like walking streets like this, head up, all smiles, tits still standing, in red. Feel better already. Let me check him up. Good looking!! My harts pounds a bit from all this muscles around. I’m not used anymore to have that anywhere near. He missed me too. Too busy with a wrong pickup! Pity, he looked good in orange. I could whistle or throw stones on him, but then hey I’m respectable mother of two and psychotherapist, and you do not go around and actually hurt people cause you are in need of attention.

Approaching the supermarket. Guy from the car is checking me out. It is not that I was breaking any pediatrician rules. I think he likes my sweeter.. Or he is a pedophile? Or a teacher in the nursery school?

Sixty something on the corner. 100% autochtone. He smiles, big smile back and says halloooo. I can tell that some juices are still flowing in that body. Veery encouraging!.

Entering the smarket area. All women!!! I might be bisexual, according to some researches most of us are, but I’m not there yet.

Man on the entrance of the supermarket, tall, well built, Dutch. He actually frowns on me!! I will get back to you mister! I have time. And you haven’t seen south of Europa yet, obviously!

Another big man. I love big man. I’m a small woman but have a sharp character. Something in me still believes that a big man could possibly domesticate me. By build and appearance probably Polish man. He passes me and runs to the bakery. Very hungry indeed!! But he could start thinking about something else but food, if he does not want to feel very lonely in Holland!

Dutch frowning example are also approaching the bakery and stand right next to the Polish guy. I slowly mingle in between, saying one innocent sorry. Cozy! Sandwich! Threesome! (Lady whose 14 years old sun reads this post, do not worry, he probably knows all about it from Google). Polish man still busy with his food! Dutch sheepishly smile at me. OOO you are flirting baby… I know that now. If you caught me yesterday, I would not even guess that you are just too shy, and that your protestant mother taught you not to look at women, and if you accidentally do, you should FROWN first. If she passes the barrier than she is the right one! Or at least she is Dutch, because she knows her roundabouts with you. And the blood line stays clean.

Very old man approaching. Although man say that man is until he is not dead, I think this one is now only concentrating on walking and breathing. Apologies’ if I was wrong.

I turn for not obvious reason only to see a really handsome one, checking my back-ground with obvious pleasure and stamina. I would say a Dutch builder, with a really good testosterone levels. But after he passes me I see a big wet stain on his pants on the place where his anus should be located. It is probably just water but it is off-putting. Who wants a guy who still does it in his pants? Even by accident?

Next one is a really young employ of the supermarket. He looks so young that I’m not sure if I’m at all allowed to smile at him, so I do not. He nervously finds his way around me, coming back and forth, but then he decides to stay. It looks like his hormones are working just fine, and that this country has a future.

Then I locate myself next to the tools, hoping it will be a man approaching so that I can actually start communicating verbally with someone. I got myself a diamond sharpener, very strange tool which I never saw before, and I’m intending to ask the first guy what is it for. Guys like to play smart about tools and help helpless ladies who do not know better. Instructions for use are written on the box, but there are in English, and I look so NOT Germanic that no one ever addressed me in English in 10 years, unlike my other friends. So I could go with pretending I do not speak English. Unfortunately only guys with wifies pass by, and eventually I get bored and move on. You do not flirt with a guy while his wife breathe in his neck. It is just not moral. And the chances that he will dare to speak to you are equal zero.

Oke… Now I’m done with my shopping, but will make another round. It is my free day; I can do whatever I want with my free time. So I scroll around, buying some more unnecessary items. This experiment is very much not good for my family budget. If it last, I will go bankrupt. Or maybe I will get less bored, lonely and horny, so I will lose need for emotional eating and shopping. This might be than seen as an investment for the future. And I’m also saving the human race. Mind the money.

Next one is a mixture of Dutch and Indonesian genes, and he is literally staring at me with his BIG BLACK eyes. And he keeps on staring!! I chicken out, what do I know about staring? This other woman, she was staring at Bokito (gorilla dominant male) in the Zoo in Rotterdam and he broke all her bones. Staring is not for a small women, is scary.

And then it is my turn to pay my groceries and I see an Angel. Just across me. He has it all: biceps’s, tricepses, 6 packs, no wait.. 8 packs, and he is of caramel color. I’ve just met mine soul mate, people.!!! He looks at me, smile. I remember what my friend said about her Latin lover and I chocolate melt. Somewhere in between turning in to Choco-pasta and paying my bill I remember my belly. Pull it in, pull it in, you do not have to breath ALL THE TIME, dam it! I pull my stomach in, and start praying. Or better bargaining with the God again: please God if you give me this man, I will eat the cabbage soup and nothing but the cabbage soup every day, the rest of my days, and I will start to enjoy it. I will also exercise until I’m sweat and tears. Sweat and tears, amen! But God is, I guess, fed up with me promising I will do things. Or he knows that cabbage soup is just not good for my blood type.
So, the man of my dreams leaves, and I still haven’t paid my bill. If he by any chance read this post, I beg him to call me on a date. He knows who he is, he recognized me too, mind the pretense.

Well until now, if you are still reading, you probably think I’m an empty headed women who falls only for muscles, testosterone and sweat, but it is not really so. I, for example, like the nerdy men. I like them so much that I have married one before. He did have six packs though, but I married him because he was a nerd, I promise. I have divorced him for the same reason though, (and because he stopped doing sport), but never mind, that is too private to share.

Let us go back to my love toward nerdy. I love them cause they can be so sweet, nice and innocent. I want to kiss them, to make up for all the girls they didn’t kiss, because although usually very smart, they were shy, insecure, with poor social skills and the computers just came along in their sensitive age. So girls if you see nerdy or quirky one, along your way, kiss him for me too.
I’M DONE with nerds and too much testosterone. Will go the middle way from now one. Of course except if HE calls me on a date. Than it is a FATE and nothing but a FATE.

Back to our experiment:
What doesn’t break you, make you stronger, so I pull my dignity, my tits and my broken heart and I leave. On the way I see a very nicely dressed guy, metro type. He looks away, playing hard to get, no wait.. he is watching himself in the window. I almost say “don’t worry you look better than me today, if that comfort u”, but I decide to be kind.

After that I meet two people holding hands (very sweet), young guy smiling at me and my little one (will be a good dad one day), family guy scanning me after his wife’s back (immoral predator), the person on the telephone lost in some cyber space (probably nerd), two guys on the bikes which I try to distract from pedaling, but in this country nobody falls for the woman from the bike (try Italy, they fall there from the motorbikes, says my friend).
And that was it for today.

I must say I got tired from all this flirting. It would be good to focus in the near future. Maybe one flirt for a day! And maybe some verbal communication INSTEAD?

Have a lovely day and please let me know what your experiences were during the weekend.

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