Blush and flee, good move.

At a recent folk concert at the awesome folk venue in my BTCT, the opening singer was one of the hottest women I have seen in a long time.

Faded blue jeans, slung low on her hips, leather belt, white, patterned button-down, messy hair. I was too far back to see her shoes, but I'm sure they were equally as hot.

During the concert, my roommate, Anne Shirley, leaned over and asked me if the musician's voice reminded me of anyone because she couldn't place it. I realized that I hadn't been listening to her music because I had been wondering if she was packing the entire first song. There is something about those jeans that make a woman look like she's packing, even if she isn't.

After her set, I couldn't miss a chance to flirt and get a CD. I love to flirt. I flirt with everyone. It's gotten me in trouble a few times, but I don't even realize it until I have someone I wasn't interested in trying to get in contact with me. The problem is that I can't flirt with people I'm actually attracted to; I get way too nervous and just want to ask if they want to get naked with me. Luckily, I'm not that shameless.

I saw her talking to a group of 3 guys and I cut in, which probably made me look like an asshole, but I use the excuse that I am cute and small, so I can get away with a lot more than other people can, though I'm probably delusional. I asked her what CD the second to last song was on because I especially enjoyed that one.

I wait for her in line, after one of my other friends had chatted with her. She was proud of herself for not fleeing because the singer was so hot. As we were talking, I see the singer look over a few times. I step up and really awkwardly shove one of her CDs in her hand, saying it was for a friend and then hand her mine. I am struck with an unbelievable shyness and feel like fleeing. I almost do after she signed my CD, but I force myself to tell her that I really enjoyed her set, probably being a bit too translucent as I'm starting to blush by this time.

Then, she winked at me.

I turned even deeper red and turned on my heel and fled. Luckily, I was wearing a shirt with a rather suggestive song lyric on the back. That's the only thing that made up for my brilliant moves.

As we walked home, I saw the most fabulous ass, period, attached to a butch body and almost tripped over the stone sidewalk