The sunshine. The smells of freshly mown Maryland grass and chlorine-damp hair. The parents who flood our campground with their loaded RVs, and most important, the flirting with their cute teenage sons! Only one thing could make the last day of school even better: realizing that this is my one-hundredth blog post here at The Superflirt Chronicles!

Ahhhh
. Memories, sweet memories.

I so fondly recall the first entry I made here last October.
Trivia Question
: Does anyone remember who it was about?
Answer
: An adorable varsity linebacker I nicknamed Spike, who wore his football uniform to our Halloween haunted hayride.

Original costume? No.

Cute?
Oh, yes
.

Then there was my second post about Check Mate, whose baby blues actually made chess interesting, which—I admit—was a first for me. And how can we forget Bull’s Eye, that gorgeous archery champ who showed me how to shoot a compound bow, and the clumsy-yet-adorable Scratch, a terrible pool player who I taught how to bank a combo?

Ahhhh.
Scratch, sweet Scratch.

Of course, there have been some duds, like Beater Boy, who wore those thin wife-beater tank tops. He seemed cool at first, but his frequent references to his “beaters” as though he were a future spouse abuser caused me to swear off
all
guys who wear them. But one must take the bad with the good, so in honor of summer, my Ghosts of Flirtcapades Past, and the many new readers here at the Chronicles, allow me to once again post the nine rules of flirting written by me and my partner in all flirting crimes, the fabulous Miss N.

Memorize it, and I promise … you’ll be mesmerizing!

Superflirt’s Nine Rules of Flirting

RULE #1: Smile.
Seriously. I cannot stress this enough. Guys don’t want to hang around some whiner who complains about parents, school, monster cramps, life’s glooms and dooms, wah, wah, wah.
Everyone
has problems, my dears. Even Superflirt has problems, but being miserable won’t make them go away. So until they do, smile!

RULE #2: Be confident.
Okay, which contestant on a reality show do you think a guy would prefer: A.) the nervous one who’s so worried about elimination that she’s eliminated, B.) the complainer, C.) the gossip, or D.) the confident girl everyone loves, hmm? Get the picture?

RULE #3: Be interested.
So simple—so effective. Pay attention to what most people don’t notice. Compliment him, in subtle, honest ways with no fake flattery. Ask questions, like what kind of music he’s into. Just don’t lie and say you love rap unless you want to be dragged to an Eminem concert. And don’t try to impress him with any do-or-die debating skills. Playful banter? Good. Ball busting? Bad, very bad.

RULE #4: Make eye contact.
Readers often ask how to tell if a guy likes you. Of course, there are the novice observations: the stolen glances he gives you when he thinks you’re not looking, the way he “accidentally” bumps into you at different places. But for professional results, do this: Make eye contact. Hold it for three seconds.
One … two … three.
By the third count, you’ll know if he’s interested, ladies, you’ll know. And then?

Gotcha.

RULE #5: Timing, timing, timing.
Do not approach a group of guys and think you’ll be able to single one out like a dog herding sheep. Guys get all macho when they’re with their friends and will most likely say things such as “Dude, did you see that chick? She wants me, man.” So wait until he’s away from the testosterone troop before making a move.

RULE #6: Work it.
Speak softly; give him a reason to lean in closer. Play with your hair; let him know you’re interested without saying a word. Lightly touch his arm, but don’t overdo it. And, at opportune moments, lower your gaze … wait a second … and then look up at him with a soft smile. Killer move. Practice this one in the mirror.

RULE #7: Know when to walk away.
Don’t let him be the first to end the conversation. Never, never, never. Otherwise, you might appear desperate, and you don’t want that. Leave him wanting more by breaking away first.

RULE #8: Know when NOT to flirt.
It is
so
not cool to flirt: A.) with someone who’s in a relationship, B.) if you’re in a relationship, or C.) with hurtful intentions. I also choose not to flirt with guys from school or work (because of the whole
don’t poo where you eat
thing), but this I leave to your discretion.

RULE #9: Don’t take it seriously!
Look, flirting is not about scoring the perfect boyfriend or lifelong mate. Gag. It’s about having fun and meeting people.

So here’s to a summer of being bold! To being fearless! To Fridays, which bring a fresh crop of campers! Will there be any cute guys among them? Stay tuned to find out …

1
Dee

After spending the afternoon checking in campers, tracking down a lost hiker, and foolishly breaking up a water gun fight while—
duh
—wearing a white T-shirt, I am
more
than ready to celebrate the last day of school by slipping into a most delightful, most decadent poolside nap.

Natalie and her laptop, however, have other plans.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” she says, poking my thigh with her big toe. I open my eyes just enough to see her flashing a wicked grin from underneath the umbrella. “Check out this Web site called
Wedgie-watch.com
, Dee. It’s hilarious!”

Wedgies? Okay, that’s worth being woken up for, even though surfing the Internet isn’t high on my agenda tonight. But Natalie’s wild computer addiction does not yield to sun, swimming, or siestas, so I scoot closer to see a display of very graphic, very torturous wedgies that make my
own
cheeks clench in pain.

“Uh, Nat, sweetie, how exactly did you find this?”

“I Googled ‘wedgie’ and this came up,” she says, as though it’s totally normal.

“And … why did you Google ‘wedgie’?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Natalie says, picking up her melted cherry snowball. “Why Google anything?”

I grin and lean back in my lounge chair with the warm sun on my face. It is, without a doubt, perfect camping weather. Hot enough to swim, but nippy enough at night to cozy by the fire in a sweatshirt. This is my favorite time of day, when the evening activities kick in and the campground truly comes alive with guests cramming in as much fun as possible before it gets too dark. I love seeing kids zipping by on dusty bikes, determined fishermen casting their lines at the river, volleyball players in a sweaty duel at the sand court, and couples holding hands on their evening stroll.

Natalie groans when the band starts a twangy version of a Beach Boys song. “Ugh, bluegrass. Tell me again why I come here on Friday evenings when it’s my night off ?”

“To be with your bestest, bestest friend?”

“Eh, not really,” she jokes. “You ain’t all that.”

I drop my jaw in mock protest. “What? Oh, please, without me, you’d be at home hanging out in boring chat rooms or reading all those forums.”

She knows I have her on this one. Her latest obsession, besides wedgies, has been a forum dedicated to all things Disney World after her grandmother announced that she’s using her tax refund to take Natalie’s entire family there in August.

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