A: Thursday is Race Your Mouse Around
The Icons Day. (Draws figure eights in
the air with a racing finger. Fails to
elicit humor. Wiggles nose as if
twitching whiskers. No laugh. Squeaks.
Nothing. Feigns taking a selfie
and says, "Cheese!" Nada! Quits her train of actions) Oh, not talking about the mouse in the pants
but the computer sort of mouse.
Z: (Glares) Speaking of which, can I have my mouse
back? Last week you took it and hid
it. A whole weekend without writing.
A: (Finds a week old lollipop on the
desk, dips it in his coffee to clean it, and pops it into her mouth) Whaja do?
Something fun I hope. You work
too hard.
Z: Cussed. Your were the subject of my rage. Mouse.
(He puts out his hand expectantly)
A: (She fakes confusion and hesitantly
offers her pop, which he refuses) So you
were thinking about me. Awwww! You know how to make a gal blush (She tilts her head and flops her eye-lashes,
bobs her hips and sashays her chest [note: she looks goofy])
Z: Are you flirting?
A: Why yes Mr. Butler I am. (Grins and bats her lashes furiously for
emphasis... sadly she looks like two flies trying to take flight)
Z: Stop.
It creeps me out. (Thinks cartoon
eyes bulging outward)
A: I was getting into the art of the flirt
because it is the subject of our blog.
(Twirls her pop like a temptress, tongues it though drivel rolls down
onto her chin, offers it with a tease, "want a suck, big boy," then remembers
he doesn't like sugar-free lollys and stops)
Z: Flirting? (Holds up the sports' time
out sign)
A: A gal gotta catch'jer a man. So I contend they should stop waiting for
Prince Charming. Get up and find
him. The poor idiot may be stuck in a
tree or something. Once you've treed him
flirt him into place... hopefully your place... if you know what I mean. (Imitates a forties silver screen vixen and
arches one brow) You know how to whistle,
don'tja, just pucker up and blow. (Gives
the Mae West husky vibe)
Z: Flirting requires a dynamic that
includes eye contact and guys struggle with that.
A: Why?
Z: Breasts don't have eyes.
A: Sexist. (Balances the pop on the edge of the desk in
a holding pattern) Oh, and
ha...ha...ha... Not!
Z: That is not accurate. I respect women and I like the way they
look. When a man talks dirty to a woman,
it's sexual harassment. When a woman talks dirty to a man, it's $3.95 per
minute. I know, an old joke, but it
points out the sexism is an inexact science.
(Checks out her desk drawer, then shelves, then her coat pockets, knows
better than to invade her handbag... does a quick cleavage check, her favorite
hiding place... Alas, no mouse in sight)
A: (Lopsided grin appears as she buttons
her blouse to the very top, wags a tsk-tsk finger, giving mixed messages just
to taunt) Flirting is criminal? A come-hither stalker. You gotta believe somewhere there is a
councilperson writing a law. A fine of
$25 can be levied for flirting. This law specifically prohibits men from
turning around on any city street and looking "at a woman in that
way." A second conviction for a crime of this magnitude calls for the
violating male to be forced to wear a "pair of horse-blinders"
wherever and whenever he goes outside for a stroll. And a third requires a
T-shirt that reads, THREE TIME SEX OFFENDER.
Over the top. Gals like to be
flirted with. Flirt with me. Come on.
Make my day.
Z: Ang you can't handle the flirt. (Jack
Nichesque voice in tow)
A: Could too. (Pouts as if insulted)
Z: (Coalesces to humor her) Were you arrested earlier? It has
to be illegal to look that good.
A: (Claps!) Again.
Z: Did I see you somewhere? Oh, I must've seen you
in my dreams.
A: Categorically cheesy... I love it. Whoo hoo!
Z: What has 140 teeth and can stop The Incredible
Hulk? My zipper.
A: (Wiggles
her nose) That is not a flirt but a
crude come-on... you owe the courts $25.
Z: Do you
like blueberries or bananas? Why? I just need to know what kind of pancakes to
make in the morning.
A: Not bad...
but risque. (Holds up a paper with the
number six... judging... the Russian judge gives a two)
Z: What's
that on your face? Oh, that's just beauty.
A: Did you
mean the famous black horse?
Z: Ick.
A: Anna Held
wrote, "I
think the eyes flirt most. There are so many ways to use them." Wink at me.
Come on!
Z:
No! (One eye twitches as if in a
private battle or more possibly an age-related condition, but probably out of
stress)
A:
Shannen Doherty, known poker player, said, "If I kind of like a
guy, then I'm a fantastic flirt. But with a guy I truly like, I get painfully
shy." Make me shy big boy!
Z:
That's hinky. ( He, now, buttons
his shirt up to the neck)
A:
Dolly Parton, and the big gals said, "I love to flirt, and I've
never met a man I didn't like." If
I shake my Dollys atja will you shake my tree?
Z:
'nuf... eeeeee-nuf... I want my mouse... now... and then... I want
quiet! Kkkkkkkkkkkkkk!
A:
Ummmmm.... forgot where I put it.
(Picks up her pop and races out the door)
CHASING
YESTERDAY
EXCERPT
What he did know was that a young woman he had never
met stared at him in recognition. He
smiled. She returned it and then quickly
shied away, a flirtatious teasing that came naturally, amazingly
instinctual. She offered that lash
flutter, the slow peel from the ground upward, sliding over his attractive
form, and then catching his gaze, just for a timid instant, then that quick
spurn. Mother had taught her that, not a
nasty spurn but one that issued a challenge, her yearning to be pursued
obvious. At least she had thought it
was, but when she looked back, expecting to find him walking toward her, he was
gone.
***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com
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