CléaI knew him, ooh… many moons ago, back when I was a fresh-eyed new graduate, barely 22 years old. He was a friend of my first boss, a more experienced professional who had graduated eons before me. At least that’s what it seemed like to a girl just past her 21st birthday when a man was well into their thirties.
In other words, he was an older man.
He had a thing going with me. Every time we met, he would say, “Cléa, when are you going to come and work for me?” Our in-joke continued for a few years, the har-har side of it was that he worked in the seedy part of town, and St Cléa of the Innocence would never set foot in the red district of her home city let alone take reputable employment there.
I can’t remember that last time I saw him but when he entered a trendy bar come bistro on a Saturday night, I recognised him immediately. Sure, he looked older, balder but he still had the same George Costanza look and temperament.
When my dinner companion got up from the bar area to get us a table, George, (let’s call him that) looked in my direction and gave me a knowing look with a solid hint of recognition. I was so impressed that he recognised me, after all it had been a few years, and I was dressed for an evening out. So I smiled back, even mouthed a hello. Only to have him give me a broad smile followed by a big wink and a tongue click.
A what-the-hell-just-happened moment followed. He didn’t recognise me… He thought I was coming onto to him!
After a long silent eww, I realised that he must have thought I was the kind to wait for my partner to leave so I can flirt with strangers.
I tried to catch his attention so I could redeem myself with something like, “George? It’s Cléa, remember me? I worked for your friend, Seinfeld,” but to no avail. He was ushered towards a table and we were shown ours a couple of minutes later. And that was that.
After a long sip of Cabernet Sauvignon to wash away the taste of humiliation, I confessed to my dinner companion the faux flirt that took place in his brief absence. Men being men, he only saw it from a male perspective. He just shrugged and said, “Heh… You probably made his evening.”
Something deep within me cringed all night.
Tags: cbmused, cringe, faux flirt, flirting, older man, tongue click
Yeah – those kind of awkward, miscontrued moments can sometimes leave you a lil baffled and feeling, “gawd, eww” — but next time you see him (and there usually IS an inevitable ‘next time’, lol) and you have the opportunity to refresh his memory on who you are (were), isn’t it going to be fun to watch his face goes red when he remembers THAT night (considering that the interim between now & then is not too long, of course).
But, your companion had a point, too — might have given you a momentary ibby-jibby feeling, but the smile you gave him probably lasted with him throughout dinner. =)
A couple of things on this:
1) Love the title. Very well done.
2) The fact that this guy (a) didn’t recognize you and (b) flirted back with such ease makes me think he is a confident (cocky?) older man who is used to getting attention. When I think a woman is flirting with me I usually turn 8 shades of red and look away. Charming, yes?
3) I’m looking forward to a post called, “Flirting with the future.”
The Flirting with the Future post won’t be nearly as good as the original though.
I think it’s odd how this turned out from the two different perspectives. I’m really surprised he didn’t place you. I’m guessing he figured it out somewhere during the night and returns to that restaurant often.
LB: Ugh… I wouldn’t want to imagine meeting him again and explaining. Unless I’ve had a cocktail in me and I just tell him straight who I was and how he thought I was flirting. Soooooooo not my type!
So I did him a good deed for the evening? It doesn’t make me feel good…
GSR:
1. Thank you. I’m keen on it myself.
2. He’s short, bald, dare I say unattractive, married, probably with kids, and fits the George Costanza character, ie, not too confident. As for you turning 8 shades of red, that I’d like to see. Part of the halo charm, I’m guessing.
3. I like that… and it sounds like a post request. Cléa hasn’t done one before, so she’ll give it some thought.
Egan: I wouldn’t write a sequel to this one, but an entirely different story.
Good point. We don’t often get both perspectives. Not sure if he did figure it out eventually. It has been some years. I look a little different and I was dressed differently than what he was used to seeing. Or maybe his vision failed him in the dim lighting.
UGH! I hate when men morph into pigs like that.
EM: Your comment made me laugh out loud!
I always hate it when I recognize someone and they don’t recognize me – whether it be a guy or a girl. I don’t know why it bothers me so much but it does. I’d be even more bothered if the person thought I was flirting with them.
I think I’m too sensitive.
But I love the visuals I’m getting with this post. That’s what I most love about your writing…it really works with my imagination!
SM: I’m the same, as if the message is ‘you’re not memorable’. Mind you, I have a great memory of faces. I remember people from way back.
I’m flattered you feel that way, thank you. And if I took you there with my words you must feel the cringe as bad as I do.
Yup – I’m pretty sure I made my cringy-yucky face when I read it. Too funny.
I’m the same way with memory of people. I can run into someone who I haven’t seen in over a decade and will immediately recognize them. Even if I only met them briefly. It’s strange and my husband and one of my friends are always blown away at my memory. Because I’m usually following up with “You don’t remember him? He was the guy who blah blah blah blah.” And then they either remember or they pretend to remember by responding, “oh…yeah! That’s right!” and changing the subject.
SM: Same here!! And you now what’s strange? I’ve never mistaken anyone I recognised for someone else. Maybe you and I are visual creatures. I know I remember things through diagrams and charts rather than text.
What a great tale Cléa! I can just imagine the thoughts going through your mind and that dreadful instant where the realisation hits you…. but it’s waaaaaay too late for back pedaling!
I bet then you were thinking, “oh christ… who else saw that just happen…”
Gboy: I wish it were a tale, a fictional tale, rather than an experience! I can tell you, I tried so hard to catch his attention over dinner to rectify this but his back was turned to me.
Nobody saw it happen but me. Not even his mate. And my companion thought nothing of it. Ugh… I still cringe at the thought. Had he been younger and good looking… well, I’d just feel good, know what I mean?