The No-Game Game

My summer romance is hotting up and just like this current heat wave, I definitely plan to make the most of it - ha! Without meaning to sound smug, I have been having the most fun I ever have had dating! Who knew dating could be this fun? Certainly none of my ex snogs.

Over the past 6 weeks I have experienced the kind of dates you come to expect from watching any Ryan Gosling film and from reading all those airy-fairy chick lits. In the first few weeks we of course did the usual drinks/dinner/cinema thing, but this dude - Mr Boy - thinks outside the box. 

One Sunday evening he suggested a spontaneous BBQ (spontaneous because I have no garden and no BBQ, not because I think BBQs are all that wild). He drove over to mine, nipped to the shop and stocked up on BBQ goodies; disposable BBQ, burgers, sausages, Corona and of course the traditional BBQ essential - a pack of playing cards. We sat on the embankment of the river in my home town until 1130; eating, drinking and me losing at Rummy. I would go as far to say it was the best BBQ I've had all summer. 

Games have become quite a thing for our dates. By games I do actually mean real competitive games, not those type of games I'm used to playing with boys - the is-he-or-isn't-he-interested ones. No, no, no, proper games where there are actual written rules and everything.

Other games we have played as well as cards include bowling. Exactly like in Greese 2 we have donned those silly shoes and joyfully screamed 'Shoot the bowl!' - although I think I might be the only one who enjoys that reference. I'm not sure he's even aware of a Greese 2, in fact, I'm not sure he's even aware of a Greese 1 or John Travolta for that matter... Anyway, I was useless, but I really liked the shoes so we went back the following week where I embarrassingly got beaten again. 

I've tried to re-cover from my bowling embarrassment (my bowling ego is on the floor) by whipping out my pool skills. Thanks to my Dad and summer holidays as a child spent in Spain, my pool skills are not too shabby. Unfortunately I'm yet to win a game against this bowling/pool playing pro.

Then there was my games night. Four of us in total indulged in nachos and Camembert (something for every type of cheese lover) and a couple of jugs of Cosmo's before undertaking the most epic and drunken of games nights. Articulate, Heads Up and Bullshit were our games of choice, a nice mix I thought of tradition, modern technology and good old fashioned blasphemy. You can probably guess who came out triumphant.

How refreshing does all of the above sound? How lovely it is to actually have fun hanging out with someone without worrying about weather or not he is using me for sex, where this all is going and if he will even text me back the next day. I kind of feel that the beauty of him is that he is yet to be messed up by a chick, he hasn't experienced all the let downs and shit that I have over the last six years, he's all new and how lucky am I?!

My Summer Fling Virginity

It's official; I'm having a summer romance. 4 dates in and with 3 more already in the diary - I think it's safe to label it now.

I've never had a summer fling before but I've naturally always fancied it. Fun dates in the sunshine, flirty eyes over ice cold beers, smooching just as the sun goes down (it's already been noted that I have watched way too many rom-coms, so just roll with it). It's been fun so far and god knows that's what I need. There's just one teensy little thing... Of course there is, nothing is ever straight forward with dudes and me.

This guy is super eager. Just then, when I said 3 dates already booked in - yea, one refers to a festival. A FESTIVAL PEOPLE. That's a pretty serious date. As soon as one dates over he's on the text later that night pinpointing my next available diary space. It's cute right but I'm just not used to this. The kinda guys I've been dealing with lately have been the absolute opposite of that. I literally had to twist Mr CBAs arm to spend anytime with me. Friday and Saturday nights were off the cards and daytime dates were an even bigger no-no. I was reduced to weekday evenings only, if he even remembered we'd made plans. As for Mr Double Date, he was a little bit more up for it but only if he could fit it around the gym and it was slotted in the dating diary a year in advance. 

I totally understand what gods doing here, I see the irony and his sneaky plan. I moan for ages about meeting a guy who is a keen-bean, someone I didn't have to chase, someone who might actually chase me. And look what he's sent me. 

If I've learnt anything the last couple of years it's that nothing is ever as you imagined it would be. Sadly this dudes eagerness is throwing me off, it appears too good to be true and perhaps it is. I even addressed it with him recently, don't worry, I used a well thought through emoji to get the tone of the text just right. Firstly he asked if it was a bad thing, then he said that he doesn't have a lot of time and that he wants to make the most of it (btw, he's not dying he's just heading back to Uni at the end of the summer). Somewhere amoungst these messages he also admitted to 'enjoying spending time' with me. He also used a carefully selected emoji, you know the one with the monkey covering his eyes? 

My biggest concern with all of this is that perhaps it is too good to be true and let's face it (trying my hardest not to be the cynical old cow I am slowly turning in to), things generally are. I'm going with it though, perhaps he's right, perhaps summer flings are all about making the most of those few months of pub gardens and flip flops. Or maybe I'm gleefully skipping into a another massive disaster. 

POF: Plenty of Fish

I have kept it no secret that I have tried many of the online dating sites. I have tried out Tinder and Match.com. At one point I was even using FB as a potential dating tool. I'll admit however that I have never seriously used them to look for a date. Sure, I've uploaded a few snaps and made a good looking profile (I am in marketing after all...), but then I just let all the messages and likes roll in, rarely doing anything about them. I've probably been using it as an ego boost. Well, that is up until now.

Online dating has lost some of the shame it once had. Well, at least it's popularity has improved in my social circles. Urban relationship myths are spreading around friendship groups like wild fire; 'I know two friends who met their new boyfs on Tinder' and 'The couple who's wedding I am going to at the weekend met on Guardian Soulmates'. It's these hopeful stories that are encouraging singles to pop on to the App Store and download the latest fad in online dating.  

So my latest is Plenty of Fish (POF). Well, actually I have been a member for years. Again I set up my profile but just left it hanging. I kind of forgot about it until recently when a friend wholeheartedly pushed herself into online dating using POF and I think she'd say it had been a success.  

This morning, on the way to work, I downloaded the app and logged into my old account. I updated my profile (up-ing my age bracket search) and away I went. Within minutes I had my first message from vnice2meetu79. Then a few notifications popped up on my screen, it seemed Jonnyboy147, Andy_pandy82 and Ben-evolent liked what they saw too (seriously, you could not make this shiz up). 

All morning my phone was vibrating with notifications for messages from these dudes. In total I had 32 messages, in just one morning. I had to turn off my notifications to avoid the (unwanted) distraction from work. I hate to sound ungrateful but it kind of began to irritate me. Instead of feeling excited and hopeful at the prospect of all these potential dates, I felt unrealistically bombarded with cheesy, suggestive chat-up lines. 

OK, I will give some of the guys credit; I did receive a few nice, polite messages with a little intro, but on the whole it felt weird. I am as yet to respond to any. I want to sift through the messages at my own leisure and seriously consider weather any of these dudes are worth the effort. Obvs I am just thinking messaging but I am the worst for (not) messaging when I really am not interested - it just slips my mind. 

I promise to keep you up-to-date and entertained with any strange messages I receive. Who knows, this could be a great success. At the very least it's someone to message, right?

An Idiots Guide to Tinder

Whilst arranging a monthly catch up dinner with an old Uni pal this week, she asked if I had any goss for her.
Er what do you think
I typed back.
Her response; Have you tried Tinder? 

So I jumped on Google and gave this thing called Tinder a quick search.
The app that helps you meet people for sex

Typical, I thought. One of my smug-married friends pushing me to online dating - not only online dating but online casual sex. God, she must think times are v tough. 

Well, I stand corrected.

Tinder is an app, kind of a cross between Match, Google maps and that mega old site Hot or Not (remember that?!). Super quick to set up, your account links to FB to grab your profile pics, but don't worry, it defo doesn't appear on your feed. You can add a little bio line if you like and away you go! 

The app searches for men (or women - whatever you preference) in your area by mile radius, leaving you to simply sift through the pile; literally swiping them one way for no and the other for yes. If your lucky, every so often a little notification pops up letting you know you've made a match - you've yes'd them and they've yes'd you. Your matches then hang about on the right hand navigation bar, ready for you to strike up a little flirt convo. 

Boy is it addictive. I think I am intrigued by the seemingly endless pile of boy faces appearing on my screen, they're actually some pretty cute ones too. 

My top Tinder tips:

• Don't swipe with hast - swiping through the hot or not's can get quite speedy, but with one false thumb move you could lose that cutie for good, BE WARNED
• Don't get fooled by the clever people at Tinder telling you 'your children would be so cute' when you open up a chat for the first time - their sneaky and flirty and trying to get you chit chatting
• Notice how many guys have their profile pics with girls, weird huh? Also a lot of them have naked snaps, ones where they are clearly wasted or ones with the lads in Zante 2012, leaving you guessing which one Dave, 28 actually is

The Married Wing-Woman and A Lovely Weekend

Well, what a fabulously civilised weekend I have just indulged in. One of my Uni girls came down from Liverpool to stay with me, Friday through to Sunday. Over the last few years we have made sure to book in these fun filled weekends, full of catching up over wine and delicious food, at least every three months. This weekend was no exception.

This weekend's activities involved wine, cheese, picnics, gastro pubs and cream teas. Yes, that's right. I know how to show my guests at Maison de Bush (that's a little private joke) a bloody good time!

Obviously I couldn't keep up the fancy pretence all weekend. There were a few moments of harsh Bedford reality; the obligatory Jaegerbombs in The Rose on Saturday night for one (it would be rude not to) and a particularly hairy moment where we had to relieve ourselves in the toilets of a MacDonald's. Well, even the posh folks pee right?

I had such a good weekend that I felt like I was back on holiday. It's funny what lazing in the sun and drinking in the day can do for you.

This weekend I also learnt a very good lesson. I learnt the importance of a married wing-woman. I'm sure you all remember the secret talents of my engaged BFF (let's just say she had sand in the strangest of places for days). Well, she now has stiff competition in the shape of my married BFF.

The thing about having a wing-woman who is spoken for is that when the moment of the ring is revealed, you (or in this case, I) become the centre of pulling attention of the boys in question. All their pulling energy gets focused on you and you pretty much have the pick of the bunch. It's like luring in shoppers with plenty of choice on the shelves then telling them, just at the point of purchase, that one of the items is not for sale. Am I good at marketing or what?!

And it worked. Saturday night we got talking to two lots of guys in two different bars. Obviously I was in there with my opening lines; 'Excuse me guys, are you drinking here all night?' (Ok, not my best) and also; 'Oh no! Has that guy over there just been sick?' (I did say there were a few moments of harsh, drunk reality). I spent the second half of the night deep in convo with a really nice Bedfordian fellow. Turns out Kim isn't the only one to have found a decent fella on a night out in town. Much to my dismay there a few good'uns out there.

So this has all left me contemplating the importance of getting away and breaking the routine. Life is certainly not all about work and doing the same things day in, day out. I think for quite some time I have been all about the routine.

It occurred to me today that perhaps my priorities have been all twisted these last few years. Perhaps work shouldn't be my priority, perhaps I should be. This week my happiness is my focus. I am going to do the things that make me happy, the things that I want to do and basically, screw everyone else!

Viva Espania

During my week on holiday I learnt the following; my oldest pal makes a great wingman, free pouring vodka is both a blessing and a danger, a jump in the pool is a lush hangover cure and prescription sunnies are incredible. Oh and I also learnt some Spanish. If you'd like to order a couple of large beers and ask for the bill, I am totally your gal.

It took me a little while to relax in truth, I couldn't help fidgeting on my sun bed, wondering what time it was at home and what I would be doing if I wasn't on my hols. But, helped along by the beating down sun (and a couple of cervessa) all my worries soon melted away. By day three my biggest concern was at which point I should turn over to toast my back.

I kicked off my holiday reading with a bit of a heavy one; Sally Brampton's memoir of her depression, entitled Shoot the Damn Dog. Yea I know, I did think that perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to read such a deep book when I was attempting to escape all that drama, but actually it was insightful and inspiring. I balanced the mood by then reading the obligatory holiday sex book. Pretty filthy to be honest. So filthy in fact that I read it in 24 hours. 

I don't know what it is about the sun but it got me feeling a bit fruity (or was that just the sex book?). I soon found myself dreaming about the cute Spanish waiters at our favourite beach bar and the older man type who sat brooding, looking out to see unwinding with his red wine. It gave me plenty of writing material...

'I have been fantasizing a lot. I think it's a really good thing; my moody thinking time (well most of it) has been replaced by fantasy time. An indication of hope surely? Something I've definitely found difficult these past few months...

Fantasy number 1: the older man. A while ago I set myself the dating challenge of going out with three different guys, two of which I have achieved, the third remains unaccomplished. A date with Mr Older Man needs to happen. I've been finding myself imagining how sexy this could really be. Last night we had dinner in our new favourite bar on the beach and I couldn't help myself perving on this typically delicious older man type. He had longish, sunkissed hair, swept back with a bit of wet look gel. His skin was deeply tanned and weather beaten, his hands adorned with a few chunky gold rings and his wrists wrapped in a few worn leather bracelets. To top it all off, he was wearing a white linen shirt. The only thing missing were the keys to his yaht.

Fantasy number 2: the holiday romance aka sexy senora. You know this favourite beach bar of ours? Well not only are some of the clientele dreamy but the waiters are not too bad either. Spanish, knowing only a little English and dressed in white (probably linen, let's dream) to emphasise their natural tans. We have our favourite, we've nicknamed him the very unsexy name of Diego (desperately trying to think up a sexy Spanish alternative - failing, miserably). Anyway Diego has spotted us. Only on our second night drinking in the place he had remembered our drinks; 'Vodka con toniqua'. There was even a little flirt - he called me beautiful! This guy knows all the good English words...'

Well, to let you into a little gossip, fantasy number two was realised only a few nights later. After some more flirting and broken conversation we bagged ourselves an invite to after hours cocktails on the beach with two of the sexy senoras. We very cooly agreed to hang about the bar for them to finish, passing the time with a couple more vodka con toniqua. Unsurprisingly we got pretty hammered. By the time they had finished we probably shouldn't have started on the cocktails but oh well, we were on holiday! They mixed us whatever we fancied (Mojito - naturally) and the four of us headed to the empty beach.

Cannot remember what the hell we talked about, but I do remember desperately trying to turn the flirt up with Diego. Turns out he speaks little to no English. Tricky I thought, but also pretty fucking hot. After another round of cocktails (and dodging of the invitation for a dip in the bar's pool) we headed back to the beach. This time his (uglier) friend appeared more interested and hell, I went along with it, I was on holiday after all, but to be honest, I have had better snogs in the corner of The Rose at closing on a Saturday night. 

I woke up the next day with a pretty fucking horrendous hangover. I went back to sleep until 2:30pm then sweated the alcohol out of my body around the pool for the rest of the afternoon. By the time the evening came we were ready to return to our favourite joint and face the consequences. As I said to my oldest pal; 'Let's just go for the giggles'. Also I quite like these awkward situations. So we went for a last night dinner and to our relief it was all good. They even asked us to stick around for drinks that night too (yea sure they did, perhaps they thought they would get a little luckier than just a fumble on the beach).

I am determined not to break this holiday aura I seem to be sauntering around with. I'm even seriously thinking about booking another holiday with the girls in October (obviously I am going to have to sell something precious to pay for it; either my body or my car or both). Getting away from the daily grind (sorry for the cliche) has really helped me to see things much clearer. I'm not going to get bogged down by silly life stuff, the most important thing is to enjoy everyday and to do the things I love and to be with my friends and family. Works work, boys are boys; it's not the be all and end all. I plan to do crazy silly things when I get the opportunity to and hell, even live to regret a few things. Think of all the fun stories I will have to tell. 

The dating game

Last night was my second date with a different guy in the last five days. I'm getting quite good with this date malarkey, even if I do say so myself. Last night was really good! I was slightly concerned Mr Double Date would be a bit awkward, but as I don't really allow awkward situations (remember my super power of chat that wards of anything remotely awkward) it was ok.

During après text with KK at about midnight last night, she asked if he was as mysterious as we had wondered. And he kind of was. Mysterious in a good way, you know a bit of a closed book, something alien to someone like me who shares everything with everyone. There was some flirting too which was nice, this was sort of missing from my date with Mr Friends Brother. There was some innuendo and a teeny bit of touching. 

We left the pub quite late, one of the last few in the place (always a good sign) and he drove me home. I was getting a bit excited/anxious about the drop off to-kiss-or-not-to-kiss thing. I kinda wanted to (another good sign) but I chickened out. Anyway if I've learnt anything from KK recently it's to keep them guessing so that's not such a bad thing. 

During my escape there was the usual 'this was nice, we should do it again' to which I replied 'yea sure', he then put the ball back in my court by saying 'get in touch'. Oh tits, I do not want the ball whatsoever. I was hoping he would have text last night to say 'had a nice time blah blah blah' but he didn't. Maybe he'll text this morn... Oh shit, I'm back to the guessing game again.

Going with the flow part 2

So I've been asked out on two dates. I bet your thinking 'fantastic! Go get 'em! Do it for us relationship bound bores!'. Well I'm not thinking any of those things. I'm actually thinking that I really can't be arsed. I know I'm being a cow, sometimes I like to be.

I text Mr Double Date on Monday. I just thought I should, it's not like I have loads of offers (well I've got two to be precise). I thought I should just go for it. You know, go with the flow.Then Mr Friends Brother  text and again, I thought 'why not?'. There was some texts back and fourth; I was going with the flow.

Well the flow has now lead me to a decision making crossroads; to date or not to date. Oh god, I am hating having to make any decisions at all at the moment. This one could end me up in all sorts of drama I really cannot be bothered with. Although, one question that keeps playing on my mind is why not? What's an evening out, a drink, some texting? All innocent fun, well it's supposed to be fun even if I'm not feeling it at the moment.

And so, in the spirit of going with the flow I've decided to take these two boys up on their offers. I now have two dates lined up before my holiday #playingthefield. 

Christmas Missions

I've been a bit quiet this week. This crush situation has developed a little and I am trying my very hardest to keep my true neurotic-self from surfacing and generally fucking things up. Instead I am channelling the cool as a cucumber, confident girl I was in the beginning of this thing. After all, she gets much more attention from the boys than me.

The girls came round last week for Magic Mike night and it stirred so much emotion that we decided we needed to set ourselves missions to complete before Christmas. You know, to get the ball rolling on all this boy stuff. We have quite creatively titled these deadlines as our Christmas Missions.

KK's Christmas Mission: to get with the Italian Stallion she always sees out in town who she is majorly in lust with. She thinks he is 'out of her legue' but we think she's nuts.

Blondie's Christmas Mission: due to the of late dry spell for Blondie when it comes to anything boy we set her the simple mission of getting any action of any sort. 

My Christmas Mission: to snog my crush.

After our Rose free weekend last weekend KK is yet to get her mission underway (although she has undergone some FB stalking, obviously). She is being unusually shy with her Italian Stallion. I am thinking she will back on form this weekend though, think of all that pent up Game that needs releasing. Oh gosh.

Blondie on the other hand is doing quite well. As we were not so specific about the details of Blondie's mission we've come across a little grey area. Blondie has actually seen quite a bit of action this week, mainly number swapping, texting and work flirting, but action all the same. Therefore technically she has completed her Christmas Mission. I've said we need to reassess her mission and set some proper ground rules. Blondie has actually had a pretty good week and all this action comes after she was the ultimate wingman to me last Saturday night. She has been keeping us up to date with her action over our favourite from of communication - FB chat;
Omfgggggg omg omg that guy just walked into work with me and asked for my number arrrrrgh x

She continued to write;
Omg I'm actually cringing. The whole way into work I was just chatting away (like I do) and then when we got here he goes 'so I've been meaning to ask u something, are u single and can I get ur number' hahaha now I feel all awkward haha. He's quite hot actually.

Ever since then my FB inbox has been flashing constantly, full of updates from Blondie on this guy front. Plus she tells us she has had more interest from other guys at work;
Omg omg omg haha girls I think I am giving off vibes or something

 I think this all makes for a very interesting work Christmas do for Blondie in a couple of weekends time.

And my Christmas Mission? Well I'm working on, I'm working on it. It's only a snog - I do that most Saturday nights with randoms right? So it's gotta be easy (see how cool and breezy I am being? On the inside you know I am completely freaking out, doing cartwheels and giggling like a school girl in the highest possible pitch that can only be heard by really starving Lions of the Serengeti and birds).

I have a crush

Remember the guy I briefly mentioned on the bottom of my post earlier in the week? Yea well, unsurprisingly I have gone full steam ahead into full crushing mode. It is not pretty.

The thing with this guy started months ago. Myself and the girls would entertain him and his mates with our Game exploits and at the time I had no interest in him. There was a little bit flirting, but again, I wasn't interested so I just had a laugh with it. Then the girls encouraged me a little; "He looked at you with love in his eyes!" You do not say this to a boy-bipolar sufferer. This is like a truck load of food to a binge eater or a free bar to an alcoholic. Obviously I fell of the waggon. I started thinking perhaps I do like this guy and perhaps he fancied me back.

I was being cool in the beginning. We exchanged numbers quite coolly, I was even doing a bit of negging which seemed to infuriate him a little. Then I had my Game-free week. I stopped texting Jumper Josh, no more Oil stories and definitely no thinking about new guy.

But then, just as I was writing him off and returning to full health he text me out of the blue. We had a little chit-chat for a day or two and a little bit of text flirt. It was going well, I was being so casual. Then there was the disaster of last Saturday night. Previously I had said to him that I wasn't going out as a part of my laying low thing, but after my family do from hell (which you can catch up on here) I desperately needed the comfort of the Rose and a couple of Jaegerbombs. Amongst all the arranging plans, pre-drinks and heels I dropped him a little text (see how cool I am being?) saying we were now heading out if he fancied it. One text lead to another; he was going to come out, then he wasn't. In the end he didn't.

Sunday I saw him briefly but things were weird. Usually he makes an effort to chit-chat with me and the girls but no, not this time. I was alright with it. Obviously I felt a bit like a dick, like I had been too eager the night before in getting him to come out with us. The girls thought it was weird. So all week I've been trying to figure the situation out; does he fancy me? Was I too eager? What should I do now?
By Thursday I decided it would be a good idea to text him. I blame Brooke, the weekend feeling and my coffee high. There was a little texting but nothing juicy; boring.

Right. I have concluded I am being too available. I am no longer that cool thing from right at the beginning, I have slowly morphed into my actual neurotic self that no guy will ever fall in lust with. Brooke says* I am thinking too much about it all, but hello, I think about everything too much, how else would I create all the content for this?! If I didn't play the Game I would be on the back foot. The news is everyone plays.

If I strip this situation down to it's bare bones it looks like this:
He was a little bit interested because I wasn't. He got a little bit encouragement of off me (the number exchange) and KK (the 'I think she would be interested' chat). Then I took it too far, I went all boy-bipolar on him and showed too much interested. He loses interest because no one ever fancies the one they can get, it's the challenge we love. The less interested he is the more interested I am.

From now on my game plan is this; completely no interest in him but absolute interest in everybody else. Let's face it, it's worth a go. I've already lost my insanity, what else is there to lose?


*I like that I refer to Brooke as the oracle - I think she will like this too ;)

The meaning of the flirt

Lunchtime yesterday I was at the checkout in Clinton Cards finding myself enjoying a little joke with the slightly balding, salt-and-pepper haired sales assistant. Upon leaving the shop Brooke exclaimed; "Is their anyone you won't flirt with?!"

I quickly jumped to my own defence, explaining that to me this was not flirting. There was definitely no suggestive jokes, no eyebrow raises, I don't think I even held eye contact (these are clearly my most obvious flirting moves). To me sharing a little joke with a checkout person/bar worker/random in a club is just polite, perhaps even a nice way to bring cheer into someones day. I would actually communicate like this to anyone. Hell, I would even strike up banter like this with a girl!

But Brooke says it was all in my tone of voice. My tone of voice was suggestive, not what I actually said. She went on to say he probably wanted to 'do me'. So firstly this got me thinking about different flirting techniques and then secondly what it means for guys vs. girls.

This is not the first time I have been labelled a massive flirt. Blondie and KK say when I am working behind the bar there isn't a man in the goddam place that I do not flirt with. This is the girl who nine months ago didn't even know how to flirt, I woudn't have even recognised if I was being flirted with. Clearly I have come along way.

OK, so techniques. Well as I discoverd yesterday tone of voice is a biggy; it's not what you say it's how you say it. For example, the following phrases I say quite frequently at the pub and they tend to raise a little smirk on the face of the man of choice; "Would you like a large one?" "How are your nuts?" and my personal favourite "Would you like something to nibble on whilst you wait?". I suppose I say all of the above with a hint of sarcastic, sometimes dead-pan and almost always with an underlying presence of sweet and innocence. Perhaps that's the recipe for the tone of voice flirt.

Along with tone of voice there is the very often discussed form of flirting; banter. I first came across 'banter' in my second year of uni. SR began major flirts with the rugby boys and inparticular the rugby captain and often told us how much she loved his 'banter'. 'Banter' was discussed so much that the rest of us girls couldn't bare to hear the word even whispered by the time we reached our end of year exams. But 'banter' has recently made a come back. KK even messaged me yesterday to say she had been flirting with a couple of 18 year olds; 'Not to sound big headed but I think my best pulling skill is my banter', Of course it is, good 'banter' out weighs everything else. I like to think anyone could woo David Beckham with good 'banter' even if you were wearing your sweaty old pj pants, most favourite holey vest top, with no bra.
Obviously there are a load of other techniques, most of which I am still completely unaware of. Here are a few good'uns:

Eye Contact - love this, especially when the other person feels a little uncomfortable or they lose their train of thought. Do try, it's hilar.

Hair Twizzling - I am frequently accused of pulling this move but in fact I have an undiagnosed, uncontrollable anxiety disorder which means I am constantly twlizzling and pulling out my hair. Therefore tread carefully this one.

Negging - obviously learnt to us from Neil Strus and his book The Game. Insulting your boy or girl of choice just enough for them to think your not interested. It will drive them a little mad thinking that your not at all interested and everyone knows the age old beast of wanting things you can't have...

So is flirting different for guys vs. girls? I think so. I believe girls flirt a lot. I am definitely guilty of flirting with waiters (one particular visit to Pizza Express with my oldest bestie springs to mind - I saved us a tenner on the bill!), car mechanics ('could someone help me with my car?' cue the hair twizzle and the eye contact) and I even like to flirt with the geeky boys who come in the pub because I like to think it makes them feel good.

Guys on the other hand I am not sure. Obviously there are the extremes; the guys who flirt with anything moving vs. the guys who can't even look at a women. But, I believe if a guy is flirting with you then he kinda is interested. Correct me if I am wrong but I believe a guy wouldn't bother to be witty, charming and even think of things to say to a girl who he wouldn't want to get with. It's that simple.

Guys don't use flirting to save money on restaurant bills for the risk of looking like a cheapskate, they wouldn't play the damsel-in-distress card to car mechanics for the risk of looking 'gay' and they definitely wouldn't flirt with the geeky looking girls just to make them feel good. They flirt to get their end away. It's the he's-just-not-that-into-you rule.