Flirting: Harmless or Harmful

I have been on this earth some time now. I have had many types of men flirt with me over the years. Especially as a young girl even in high school the teachers would flirt with me. The men who admired me were married and looking for some excitement with a young blooming woman and found my behavior fascinating because I was always catering to older folks when my mother volunteered for the church rides, etc. My brothers would escape to friends’ homes over time and I was the one to go with her on her runs to take the elder from their homes and back. I had learned a lot of patience as we even visited a woman who for the first time stuttered in my young teenage years. I would help finish her sentences to understand because it was challenging for her as a mother and wife to speak to others who didn’t know her. I made her comfortable along with my mother’s intentions to help and be there for her.

Over time; my teachers would see my mannerisms and these were the advanced classes in high school that these men were interested in for fun. Man, men are animals. I then used to go to different cultural and church outings. I was 13 years old and sang in the church choir. We were on the radio and our music director and writer was named ‘Carl.’ He was a temperamental creative and perfectionist. We were all mostly women and one man was a baritone. I lanky, skinny man…I believe he dealt with HIV but in a Catholic Church; you didn’t reveal you were gay or had that type of disease. Carl would bully him at times and later I felt they were lovers. At some point the baritone man was Latin and spoke Spanish very quickly to us. My Mother would nod smiling and I would too. I learned that when we didn’t understand and wanted to be polite and didn’t understand but would laugh and nod and smile. One day, Carl got upset with him one too many times and Martin the Latin baritone told him that he didn’t appreciate him talking to him and he would not come next time. It went on a few times and then one day Martin didn’t show up for practice or church to sing. Carl was affected by him not communicating to him or showing up. Then the next practice he vehemently apologized to Martin and Martin said, “I accept your apology.” We never discussed people’s relationships in church at all.

When I was singing in the choir an elderly couple came to church. I got a bad vibe even though they were modestly dressed and the woman covered her head with a handkerchief. They were new and out of state….They had a son in his 30s who was balding and very tall like his father. He donated plenty to the church and served as usher and he would look at me when bringing the money basket to the priest and smile shortly and nod. I didn’t know what to make of this. One day; after being very friendly a few times with my mother and saying she was a sister of mine…the older woman asked her to stop by for tea at her home. My Mother would reluctantly go until 3 times…that was our number…

My Mother drove up saying they were a nice couple and she worked with the church office closely and the priest, Father Moga, knew the amount he gave every Sunday. The elder mother asked us in. She didn’t have her head covering on. Her son wasn’t there at the time and my Mother complimented her on her slim build and youthful appearance. She chuckled and thanked my mother. She went on to say she married her husband much younger than him. I think there was a 15 year age gap and she had her son. There were no other children after him, she said. Then she said, “I am looking for a nice girl like me to get my son married as he is older now.” My Mother smiled and nodded. Then the older woman said, “Would you give my son permission to court your daughter?” Oh boy! My Mother’s face fell so fast and her smile went into a frown. She then said, “We must leave now.” We got out of there so quickly. She didn’t say a word but told our priest and then he refused to take his money on Sundays. It may have been appropriate with any other group of people where they came from but it wasn’t appropriate in his church. They finally got the message and left our church.

After a few years passed; I was selected through the Cooperative Office Education Program to work in the office of the Arizona Highway Depart at 16 years old because I would know how to dress and interview properly. I had 3 locations that wanted me and chose the one because I had no car where my Dad would give me a ride to work. There were ties to Mexico and a man who was the contact from Mexico with Arizona came in for parts for the road maintenance vehicles and invoice these out with the parts department manager named Dick Moeller. Mr. Moeller was a very nice man. It turns out that the Mexican man married a few girls 13 to 15 in Mexico as his wives but said to me one day: “My wife is lonely and plays with Barbie’s; she would like a friend and would I be her friend?” I didn’t like his perverted energy and his eyes were very sneaky. I said, “I don’t go to Mexico and why don’t you bring her here?” He said, “No, she cannot leave and he could take me there to be her friend.” I said, “No thank you. My parents would not allow this.” I avoided him when I would see him. 

One day I was organizing parts in the back for Mr. Moeller and he were there. I escaped in the parts room to act like I was inventorying. I saw him down one aisle so I went and weaved into other aisles. I didn’t want to engage with him anymore. I found it disgusting that he looked in his 40-50 years of age that he was taking in young girls. He then found me and asked if I could help him so he could corner me alone. I then quickly ran and got Mr. Moeller and he said, “Wait, aren’t you going to help me?” I said, Mr. Moeller will as I have to go upstairs to the main office to my boss now. I told Mr. Moeller I have to go upstairs and don’t feel comfortable with the Mexico contact and he handled it.

Not only dealing with gangs and pimps in my neighborhood block but this was ludicrous. I then dated my husband and there was a family friend of theirs in the mall they knew for several years. My husband introduced me and the guy said, “Hello.” I was very distant from him and he was a knife salesman. Then we went to a bar in the mall and had snacks and he took my hand and moved his finger in my palm in the middle and I pulled away from him. What a piece of trash. I told my husband and his brother and they couldn’t believe what he did. Then I asked both of them what does it mean when a man takes his finger and rubs it in the middle of my hand? Then one approached the man later and he denied he did that. More evidence he is a sneaky piece of trash.

We had moved to Los Angeles, CA for my husband’s study of fashion design at FIDM and there was the public bus system we took at the time. We were newly married and our welcome to LA was our stolen luggage and unopened wedding gifts. It was not a good sign. When I rode the bus the men would say. “They don’t make ‘em that away anymore.” They were talking about me as if I was a car model. He repeated that again and wanted to approach me but it was my time to get off the bus. At times, on my commute we lived near a hotel no-tel whatever you call it. Men would whistle at me crossing the street to catch the bus to work. I walked so fast. One day a pimp from the hotel approached me. His breath smelled like cigarettes and old food. He was asking my name and I gave him the name and reminded me if I saw him again that he was no good. Then I was getting uncomfortable as he wanted to follow me to work. I didn’t want that. I looked in the mirror at the bus driver and he knew I wanted to get off and take the next bus. So suddenly I got off and the pimp asked me “Where are you going? How will my wife meet you?” I said, “The same way you did….on the bus.” I then got out and he tried to follow and the bus driver slammed the door closed so he couldn’t get off. He told the bus driver to open the door. The bus driver smiled at me and I got on another bus.

There were some friends my husband had at his fashion design school. Female and were interested in him and his Italian friend. His Italian friend was a nice guy. He joked before meeting me that if I was an Asian woman…I would have bow legs and a nose like a Pekinese dog and laughed. My husband said, “She doesn’t look like that.” Finally, I was able to leave my work at Mountain Bell as a service order clerk from a high school program to join my husband as we were newly married from Tucson, Arizona to LA.

At times; there was much commotion and we moved into the wrong areas. Had to look over my shoulder and keep my eyes open…just like the neighborhood I lived in for years. My husband and I traveled to see family in England and he had to stay longer as I left to keep my job. I was going to take a ride from a co-worker (he had a secret crush on me but he was respectable). Unfortunately, he got into a car accident and had a concussion. He was hospitalized and released the day I arrived. I called him and there was no answer. I then waited 30 minutes and watched a black limo with a man say to young girls to get a ride and have a glass of champagne for a cheap fare. He had asked me but I told him I am waiting for a ride. He watched me but I watched him. They drove these young trusting girls away and returned after 15 minutes and approached a few more girls. He kept asking me, saying that my ride didn’t seem to be coming. I kept telling him I was waiting. I then was going to call him again and he finally answered. He told me he had a concussion and that he could not come to get a taxi. I was looking for taxis. The man with the limousine was getting angry with me. I had a large suitcase and kept looking at airport cameras to see my whole face. The man with the limousine decided he would drag my large suitcase away and I would follow. I let it go then looked at the cameras saying over and over again “Help me, help me, help me.” An airport security man rushed out and shooed the limo away and told me to pick a taxi with a decal. Well, sorry to say the man with the limo was black and had a choice…choose a black man, white man or a Latino. So I chose the old white man. He was careful with my items and I got in and he wanted to help me take my luggage to my security door and to my apartment. I had had enough that night and then denied his help to my apartment. I was shaking as soon as I got in and just told my husband what happened. He was upset about what happened and why our friend who was in a car accident didn’t call to let us know earlier. I said, maybe he was in hospital and couldn’t think. Later he apologized as he was my co-worker at the Jewish Federation and my husband picked me up for lunch or to go home.

I remember when I walked a friend home afraid to be alone and a pimp was discovered to live on my block at the end. He saw me and then I was walking home. I thought it was my God mother’s car and it wasn’t and the pimp came out looking like Shaq but with hair and older asking me to come talk to him. I just said, “No thank you…I have to go.” He then told another man to chase me down and said, “Go get her.” My brothers were in the sports track and so they found out how fast I could run. I ran so fast to safety and was ready to weave in and out of the street. I then got home looking back they were out of breath and gave up. I guess I was pretty blessed to be safe again. I never ventured at the end of the street nor did I walk that schoolmate home ever as I told her the next day what happened. They moved a few months later away from the neighborhood. 

Dad would often tell us that moving into this war zone neighborhood taught us to be tough. I thought; wow, comfortable with that from war and why not give your kids a better chance in life not just surviving but thriving. That’s another story about PTSD. 

Well, there are other times in my years men of all walks of life thought I would sleep with them bragging to others that I would…making sure I couldn’t hear them. I could feel their energy and intent so whatever you said or kept inside was revealed. I met many unhappily married men and thought I was an outlet for fun. I had to quit a few jobs. I found them unscrupulous but like my Mom at times I would have this hope that this person or man would be different but all races, ages, shapes and sizes they would try to press my boundaries. Even judges would flirt with me and lawyers but that’s another story. I would try to change the intention or energy and be kind to them and talk to them focusing on ethics and harmony and improvement and communication. At one point; one asked if I would go away the weekend with him…not the first and my reply would be yes, if my husband can come along and that was that. Others would ask me how my relationship with my husband was. I found it intrusive but again if they were older; my mother taught me to tolerate it and they are just having harmless fun and will drop it. I would trust the older men and think they are mature and didn’t mean anything with harmless flirting and that’s all there was. Other men felt entitled to my friendliness and that I should follow through for their own pleasure as I was reciprocating. My Grandpa was a stepdad to my Mom and would flirt with me harmlessly. He would say: “If we were not related and I was your age; I would date you or ask you out.” He never would touch me or get into sexual references at all. He loved me dearly and would not like any harm to come to me. He was protective but overtly threatening to my husband I was dating. He had too many drinks and would get mean and threatening. My husband didn’t have this behavior in his family and they were military so they were abhorred by this behavior. I would try to calm my Grandpa down as I didn’t want any violence and get him home safely. My husband was appalled by this. I told him that he has PTSD and is in the military. He said there is no excuse for these terrible threats and name calling. I took some breaths as I dealt with this from my Dad as well.

So I learned not to go out anywhere alone. I saw the quality of life and didn’t want to take part in it. My Mother never let me date unless she was sure that I would be safe or with my brothers or my aunt. I felt like a jailed bird. I knew that there were other places to be feeling safe and I had to have the faith but being a minority woman with false stereotypes and labels that I needed to seek a respectable man. I was introduced to my husband through my Mother and her friend at the Filipino club. It was destined we meet again my Beloved husband this life to work on our life theme of communication and my life theme of truth. It was a journey back to reuniting with him after a few lifetimes together. At times we parted awhile and would work on ourselves and then our relationship. I will say it is a testament when men still approach me to be their fling and nothing else and question our relationship. We have worked so hard to reunite as husband and wife and keep doing so. Why would someone question our relationship after informing them of our hard work together? What an exchange; lose myself for a fling and pleasure as a throw away affair and have no commitment again losing twice? Wow! I can’t figure people out, especially men, to know this and then question our relationship and think me being their temporary distraction or pleasure works out to betrayal and losses on my part. It is a sad thing to believe that men feel so entitled because of my commitment to kindness and healing that I should lay down my ethics for their own way of not addressing their issues or creating issues between their wives to make it look like they are suffering. If you are suffering; go to a therapist, I will be compassionate and non judgmental but you have to look at yourself as if to say: “Why do I need someone to take my own action for my own unhappiness?” Then find resolve working on yourself, working as a couple and if there’s no satisfactory resolve; call it quits. Don’t create another person involved to make a decision you are grown up to be truthful about and resolve fairly without drama.

Men are not taught proper ways to release their emotions, their energies to be vulnerable. We gotta do more and the men out there need to know that you can be human and express your emotions and vulnerability and get the healing you need not the distraction and never address issues that lay within you. I wish you Truth, Love, Healing and Resolve. Sending Unconditional Love. Namaste, Peace to you and God/Goddess Bless and Support you.