The BS of flirting games

Have you ever though why flirting is such an important part of intimacy? Sometimes I find it so fucking annoying. Like seriously... So you gotta look good, you gotta behave a certain way, you gotta be nice and sweet, you gotta follow certain rules... And all this for what? SO you can get a phone number and go out on a date. Don't get me wrong, I love dating, I love relationships, I love intimacy, and I certainly love sex, but I hate these stupid games.

So here is a prime example:
I spent 2 hours last night getting ready to go out with my friend. It took me 2 fucking hours to do my hair, put my make-up on, decide what clothes to wear, and just stare at the mirror trying to find and correct imperfection. TWO hours! Then, it took me another hour to intoxicate myself with sufficient amount of alcohol, so I do not act like a depressed bitch. I spent 20 bucks on coolers from LCBO, which were gone by the end of the intoxicating hour, another 5 bucks for taxi cause of the fucked up weather in shitty Toronto on fucking April 2!, another 10 bucks to get to the club, and about 20 more for more intoxication of my lovelye Sex on the Beach which has alcohol almost enough to get my 4 year old cousin drunk. SO yeah... Let's pretend though that money did not matter, and the time spent on making my hair straight when it is naturally wavy, was pleasurable. Here is the better part of the evening: dancing pretty sexually on a almost empty dancefloor with my friend engaging in pretty lesbian action in front ofthe eyes of a number of very drunk middle 20s guys who are dying to see exactly what we were doing. I had no idea why are people staring and honestly, I did not really care either. CAuse I was tipsy, my friend was getting shot after shot, and I was having fun! Did I feel like a slut? No! Cause that girl next to me was grinding with 4 guys at a time, cause blondes have more fun obviously, and the other chick was letting some guy she just met touch her ass and boobs during the whole night. At least I had some self-respect and did not allow anyone to touch me, cause then I would have felt like a slut. Dancing with guys who know how to dance without them touching me was kinda interesting, but trying to avoid their hands was not the most entertaining thing even when you are pretty tipsy. Oh, falling over your friend on the ground and laughing at it while a couple of guys help you get up is pretty cool ;) So at the end of the night I was so tired, that I just needed someone to support me, otherwise I would fall on the ground and would be kicked out of the club prematurely ;) So, I decided to look around and pick a decent guy who was not aiming at my intimate parts. He was pretty cool actually, which I ended up realize after we walked out. I must have been kinda bitchy to him, cause I was soooo tired! He actually tried to talk to me, asked me questions, told me few times I was hot and looked great, and so on. Which is a rather big change from being treated like you are nothing by the person you are supposedly in a relationship with, or were. And his hands never wondered, never pushed, never left the right places to be. And he even kissed me on the forehead and the cheek a couple of times, which was soooooo cute. And I was not scared he was gonna push me on the ground or say something really offensive. It was a different feeling. BUt good different :D So I gave him my phone number and told him to call me the next day if he wanted to go out with me. I guess I was a little weird trying to get away, but I knew i better leave before he tries anything else and spoil the night. SO we walked home in the fucking rain/snow or whatever the heck this shitty thing coming from the sky was, and were freezing our tighs like it was winter. in April! So I did manage to get to my room with my feet killing me slowly. And i found out he called twice, but no message. So me being all tipsy and nice, I called back and left a nice message, dam dam dum dam. And went to bed as a good girl to freeze in my bed under 3 blankets and with a couple of large stuffed animals waiting for 10 am to call that shitty number which I am fucking tired of calling.
The bitching is about the fact that according to my girlfriends, there is a 3 day official waiting period for a guy to call you after you have met him. For some guys, like the last one, it is all a joke and they never call. Others do. He called. But it was late at night, he was tipsy, and he thought I was smashed, so he probably hoped for a lay that night. I really hate games though. I mean, ok, so why would you call one night and then not call the next day? Cause if you like someone and you are single, you would call for a date, and take it from there. I know I would not call him, cause this time I will be a nice traditional girl and will let the guy work for me before I be a totally modern equal cool chick who shares the responsibility of calling back and keeping the magic going. SO now, my pride will make me wait for the next few days, until next weekend, when I will probably go to a nice club, listen to nice music, dance like crazy, hook up with someone, give him my phone number, and wait for him to call. I hate waiting, that's the only thing. It's true it annoying the dying hell out of me, but better waiting than thinking about that person who has too much problems to even try to communicate with the person whose life he completely fucked up. Waiting is annoying, but keeps me from trouble. SO if giving a number, and waiting a week is what takes to keep me safe for the next 4 weeks till I get the hell of that shitty room, I will do this and fucking take the best out of it. Now I have a new safety plan. Motherfucking bullshit crapface theories!