"Did You Say You're Dirty?"

I pulled into Ziggy's a little late and trudged through the parking lot with every step shooting freezing cold water up my pant leg reminding me that it's almost spring but not quite yet. I stepped into the building and like a dog, shook off my pants and began to look around to find the group of guys I was meeting. It wasn't to hard, the Red Sox Jersey's gave um away. I waltzed over to them and found my seat ready to participate in the other hope of spring: Baseball. Fantasy Baseball to be exact.

As is the case with many of my adventures, I was the only single guy at the table. All of my other friends there were married. Yet, when men have baseball, marriage isn't the topic of conversation. Even the fact that I'm single doesn't even really come up because the only "single" we are concerned about is on the baseball diamond. It's refreshing!

We tried to get the internet up and running but couldn't. I was given the task to ask the waitress and I could tell there was something afoot. You may say that my "spidersense" was tingling. Low and behold the waitress was probably in her early twenties. She was cute but in a sisterly type of way. I did ask her about the internet and she smiled all nice but told me that she didn't have any idea what to do with it. Well, that was the beginning.

I sat down a little flustered because I have to have the internet for draft and I would have been incredibly crippled with out it. She came over and quickly asked us for our order and was very excited to help me with mine closing her statement with "hun". It was awkward! When the food came out we had already started drafting when my friend Nick made the disgusting decision of drafting Alex Rodriguez. A loyal Sox fan had broke the first commandment of Red Sox baseball. Thou shall have no other gods before me. Anyway we continued to rib him for it when our prompt waitress came back and asked me if everything was ok! I smiled and said it was excellent. She then walked towards the other side and I asked Nick if he was feeling dirty for drafting A-Rod and she quickly turned to me and said: "did you just say you are dirty." I quickly stated: "No, I was talking to him." She smiled wide and was all giggly then walked away. All the guys continued the assault, except I was the subject of the mockery and not Nick. Instead of the talk being about the baseball diamond and hoping our guys score a lot of points, I was the one receiving points on how to score a lady. Particularly this lady. Now they were all joking in a very Christian way but it was still pretty funny. I took it for a grain of salt and just begged we get back to baseball. Thankfully, we did!

I thought a little last night about wither or not this waitress actually was flirting with me or if she was just trying to be nice. I couldn't tell. I've never really been good at telling. It's not some hidden insecurity or anything like that but I just don't do the random, flirt thing. I never have. Especially when baseball is going on. You better be quite a lady to steal my attention from baseball. Yet, I had to give her some props. I was with a bunch of guys and she had the guts to actually come up to all of us and give off the appearance of flirting to me and then obviously them. She definitely was anything but timid.

It made me wonder about how exactly do we go about showing our attraction off to someone? I am such an old-fashioned guy that if a girl were to ask me on a date I think I would say no and start singing "Tradition" from Fiddler on the Roof. It just seems wrong. Yet, I also find that trying to understand or read women is harder then reading Milton or Shakespeare. I don't get it and probably won't ever and with Milton and Shakespeare you can at least Google them or get cliff notes unlike the other. I don't want a woman to ask me out but I have no clue how to read her? It seems like a lose-lose situation doesn't it? Yet, as weird as it sounds, this waitress in some ways taught me a lesson last night. Risk. Brushing off timidity. Whatever may have been her intention she didn't care what everyone else thought and that was pretty bold. It was gutsy. It reminded me of baseball. You may get hit by a pitch, it can really hurt, but you still get another at bat later on in the game. The question then really is do you swing for the single, or go for extra bases even with the pain from the last at bat still there?