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If I’m Flirting With You… Please Cooperate

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I like to think life would be a lot easier if people just read the signs. Some nights, it feels like the universe is shouting them neon obvious impossible to miss. Other nights… well. I’m basically wearing a t-shirt that spells it out for you. Literally.

“If I’m flirting with you… please cooperate.”
That’s the motto. The warning label. The invitation. The whole manual.

Because honestly?
I don’t do complicated.
Not when it comes to you.

My routine these days is simple:
A couple of drinks a couple of friends a couple of questionable decisions strung together with soft lighting and worse intentions. Then you walk in or message or breathe in my direction and suddenly the whole night rearranges itself like it was waiting for you to show up.

I flirt the way some people pray quietly sincerely and with the desperate hope that someone is listening.

A glance over my shoulder a stupid line said too casually that half-smile I pretend isn’t on purpose… they’re all little invitations and all I’m asking politely respectfully shamelessly is that you meet me halfway.

Cooperate.
Lean in.
Catch the spark before it hits the floor.

I’m not promising order. I barely keep it together myself.
I stay up too late drink too much, think too fast and feel even faster.
But I know this the best stories start when someone decides to play along.

So if you catch me flirting with you don’t overthink it.
Don’t freeze.
Don’t run away.

Just cooperate.
Trust me… it’ll be worth the trouble.

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