Flirting — A dying art of communication
If you find them sexist, it’s just because you are not interested.
Once upon a time in a beautiful town called Verona, there was a boy who fell head over heels in love with this girl he met at a party. They were from rivalling families, the Montagues and the Capulets. The families despised each other, so an introduction was highly flammable. But he did not care. He just walked right over to her, and in a flood of exuberantly flirtatious phrases told her how hot she was. Oddly enough, this brash, inappropriate declaration of attraction did not offend her. She was intimated yet charmed. Of course, she did not respond immediately to his bold move, as he delivered it in such an out-of-context, weird and unexpected manner. He continued to stalk her day and night, lurking around her yard at odd hours. Even hiding under her balcony. When she noticed his stalky behaviour, she was, surprisingly enough, not appalled. Quite the contrary. She took well to it and invited him to continue his stalky behaviour, which so many others should have been disgusted by and maybe even compelled to report to proper authorities, so they could have thrown the insolent youngster into a correctional facility befitting of his disgusting behaviour. The reason for her completely unreasonable acceptance of his behaviour was very simple. She was interested.
