A Constant Reminder

I've never been real comfortable with the concept of flirting. In grade school, it was gross. In middle school, it was foreign. In high school, it was all the rage. In college, well, in college, flirting meant that you should probably be ready for marriage. Or maybe not. Either way, I sucked at it.
Presently, in the post college adult years and as a single lady (thank you beyonce for ruining that phrase from now on), I've had to resurrect those long lost or perhaps, never acquired, skills from the past. And let me tell you, its been Rough. With a capital Rarrr.

A couple of weeks ago, I'm at this bar in my neighborhood with some friends. We've been dodging the much older bar owner who is creepy and over enthusiastic about being surrounded by girls half his age. We plant ourselves at a table with a booth that makes us look wholly unapproachable as we stare and judge the patrons surrounding us. A brave guy in a Detriot Tigers hat tries to strike up a conversation.

"Did I hear the word beersicle? You ladies want a beersicle?" He proceeds to ask the bartender for beer on ice. We give a perfunctory HA to his rather unusual gesture. He then comes back for more. We respond by all getting up and moving, at the same time. All 6 of us. He follows with his friends. By this point, we realize we've been rude and seat ourselves at a round table that allows for a bit more interaction with others. Detriot and his friends move in. They are pleasant, drunk, but pleasant. I start talking to this Indian guy in a Michigan state hoodie.
"So...are you guys originally from Chicago? How do you all know eachother?"
"Oh we all went to college together. Most of us are from Detriot."
"Michigan State I assume."
"Yeah, how'd you guess?" he responds, laughing. Then silence. "So Michigan St. What happens to you guys in the championship? You just choked," I say in a playful tone.
Now, mind you, I am referring to Michigan St.'s run to the NCAA Championship. Basketball. This is the extent of my flirting. Talk sports and inevitably insult the man's alma mater. But I used a playful tone? He didnt pick up on that??!

"Excuse me. We did not choke. If we had all the money and the endowment like North Carolina who are just a bunch of bleep bleep bleep who take their bleep bleep bleep and bleep it and bleep that." He then stops. A petite brunette wearing half a shirt stumbles by drunk and throws her arms around this guy. "Buyy me a drink whoop whoop." He kind of sways with her and they disappear in the crowd. FAIL.

I try and chat with the rest of them. We talk about how we love Chicago in the summer and the really drunk one shouts, "Yeah Obama. Are you Obama? For Obama? Obama is my boy." He is met with silence from us. "What, I totally thought there would be more Obama fans in this part of town. You all suck." FAIL.

One of them pulls out a cigarette. Oh, common ground. Lets bust out those skillz. I try a coy smile and say, "Oh nice. Time for some fresh air?" He gives me a weird look until I pull out my own pack. "Nice. Do you want to come with us?" I nod and he even pulls out my stool and holds the door. A few puffs later, the conversation turns weird. At one point one of the guys told my friend to "kiss me, kiss me right now on the mouth." FAIL.

It then starts to pour. I mumble something about my hair getting frizzy in the rain and they mumble something about going home to smoke weed because the bar scene is lame. I couldnt agree more at this point. And those flirting skills...well, I'm beginning to think its not just me.