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Bad Ass Frank writes about Girl Signs…

by Bad Ass Frank of BadAssFrank.com

Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs… but I don’t read em. I don’t even look at em. I don’t mean street signs, or no parking signs, or detour signs, or signs alerting me to where the bathroom is located, or the signs that tell me I’m at Bed, Bath, And Beyond, or the Hollywood sign, or signs of life on other planets, or a sign from god. Those signs get my attention (A sign from god would really get my attention given that he/she doesn’t exist). The signs I’m talking about are girl signs. Girl signs that guys are supposed to learn, watch for, and respond to, from the first moment they start looking at girls. Signs that a girl wants to be asked out, kissed, or get some funk on my junk. I do not now, nor have I ever, enjoyed this particular game, so I do not play it. You, my fine lady friends, are welcome to play it all you want. Just understand that, one day, you’re going to wake up thinking, “BAF must not be interested. I totally threw out all the right signs (gang signs? bang signs?) and he didn’t respond,” followed by a dramatic sigh and, just maybe, one tiny teardrop. This could have all been avoided by simply making your signs a little more obvious. And by “obvious”, I mean you have to say say these things straight out. “Hey Frank, I’m interested in you.” “Hey Frank, feel free to ask me out.” “Hey Frank, I’d like you to put it in my butt.” Communicate. Batting your eyelashes at me makes me think you have a facial tic (Is there a seizure coming? I hope so, seizures are sexy). Smiling at me for long enough makes me think you’re either insane, or hoping I’ll tell you if you have food in your teeth. Dropping little hints is like a rabbit dropping little turds. At first it’s cute and kinda funny but then it smells a little and I spend most of my time making sure I don’t step in it. I don’t want your stinky hints all over my shoes. Look, I understand that sometimes it’s awkward to look at me and sputter, “Uh, er, um, It would be great if you wanted to make out right now.” Maybe there’s a happy medium. Perhaps you do something like say, stand on your head and, while doing so, you say, “Standing on my head makes me want to make out with you. Because you are standing on your head, and I’m now aware that the very act of standing on your head causes you to want to make out with me, I am unlikely to mistake this sign to mean something else, like that you’re gassy. I will be very clear that you want to make out and that you’re not, in fact, just gassy. It’s pretty fucking understandable if you do it this way. I met a girl recently who is super duper smoking hot, and pretty goddamn cool. We hung out a few times and I did what I always do. Nothing. What I mean is that I didn’t hit on her, make any moves, or really imply that I wanted to be anything other than friends. I did, however, state my attraction, and left it at that. If I can risk being serious for a moment, this is my standard method of operation. If I like you, I probably want to be friends with you. If I find you attractive, I might like to be more than friends. But I’m satisified with just being friends, if that’s what you prefer. I figure that there’s no sense in creating an awkward situation if you’re searching for a friend. I don’t want to be licking your neck while you’re like, “Um, I thought we were gonna play Boggle and eat ice cream.” That’s why I let you know if I have interest, then leave it alone, respect boundaries, and try to be a decent guy. Whatever happens, happens. Most women don’t know what to do with that behavior. They’re either used to a guy that has zero interest and pays them no attention, or a guy who’s trying to crawl directly into their vagina. I am not that tree, don’t bark up me (I am not into animal play). Anyway, this chick and I went to dinner and hung out maybe one or two other times. During those times, I didn’t say or do anything to indicate my interest. I did make her aware of it the old fashioned way, via text message. Lest you think I’m some kind of teenage-girlish-texter, I am. Regardless, she and I communicate primarily via text, so I’m fine with it. Don’t judge me. So I’d laid it out there and didn’t get anything back. Fine with me. One can never have enough friends, particularly if they’re hot. I don’t have to bang you to enjoy looking at you (although I do have to enjoy looking at you to bang you). Jump ahead to the other day when she and I are texting. She asks if we can get together this coming week and I reply, “I may be going out of town with this girl.” It’s mentioned in innocence, not to antagonize or elicit a specific response (That’s a big fat lie. Everything I do is to antagonize or elicit a specific response). She responds with, “Don’t go.” You know where this is headed, right? (I don’t know about you but I’m hoping it’s headed to sweaty nakedness). The conversation that ensued revealed her interest in me. I also discovered her shock that I had no idea that the aforementioned interest existed. She seemed confident that I had known all along what she was thinking and/or feeling. Um, no. It’s not that I’m a typical, dense guy. I’m actually quite skilled at reading people, sensing how they feel, understanding their intentions, etc. I pride myself on my ability to discern what’s going on in a person’s head and heart. But I’m not a fucking psychic. Truth be told, I purposely don’t try to read women. I prefer that they be straightforward. I prefer that they just say what’s on their mind. I prefer if they scream it at the top of their lungs, while standing on the roof of a building, wearing a bikini, and preparing to have sex with me. This is just a general preference, and not at all a hard and fast rule. I understand that this is never going to happen. That it’s most girls job to play coy, or hide their feelings, or hold off to see if a better option comes along (better than me? nigga please). I’m a patient man. I’m willing to spend a little time, get to know you, build a friendship, and see where it goes. But I am only willing to wait a limited amount of time (regular blow jobs extend your time considerably, fyi). If you don’t show real, definable interest, I’m going to keep my eyes open for someone who will. Since I’m past the point in my life where I’m running around trying to fuck every girl I meet, I’m happy to turn you into a friend. Please keep in mind though, that if you enter the friend zone with me, that’s where you’re likely to remain for eternity. And that’s a long fucking time. Ask my exes. They live there. It’s like hell, only not as much fun. So if you want me, let me know. I’ll take it from there. And don’t worry, I won’t suddenly take your statement as a sign that we’re about to have dirty, dirty butt sex. I’ll take it for what it is, a clear sign. A clear sign that you like me, that you want to spend some time with me, and probably that you want to make out with me, so that we can see where it goes and if, someday, it’s going to lead into a real relationship. And dirty, dirty butt sex.

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