Oh Lord, I'm fourteen again!

I'm standing here, lusting after a pretty face and a taut body, casting those little come-hither looks his way.

This is ridiculous. I'm a strong, independent, woman, not a giggling schoolgirl!

He's at the bar, leaning against it. All I have to do is walk over there, and buy a drink. Say something to him, even if it's only "Excuse me, please."

He's probably got one of those awful voices, squeaky, or drawly. He's probably married, or attached or gay, and the looks he's throwing back at me are probably astigmatism, not interest. He's probably a complete idiot. He may even work in advertising. Five minutes conversation, and I could put him out of my mind forever.

Or maybe he's a perfectly nice, normal, single guy who really is interested. A couple of words and we could cut to the chase, actually find out if we have something in common.

So, why am I standing here flirting with my eyes, and smiles? What am I afraid of?

Is it that I don't want my illusions shattered?

Is it that I'm scared of seeming pushy, or (gods forbid) desperate?

Is it.... oh gods, he's coming over here... I guess my questions are about to be answered

Whatever else he is, it seems he's braver than me.

Wish me luck.