I am reserved.
If I see an attractive man, I am fully aware that the man is attractive… but that information is not sufficient for me to “do something about it”.
Because I am naturally reserved.
I would not chuck myself at an attractive male anymore than I would dive upon the luminous Vanessa Redgrave, sobbing wildly and extolling her brilliance.
There are some people who can enter a room and, in a matter of seconds, have possession of every person’s name, age, and phone number.
If this comes naturally to you, then sail on, silver girl.
I have a friend who did this routinely.
This is not me.
You should not expect me to do this.
The question has been raised, “Well, then, how will you ever find a man?”
Oh, goodness, I’m sorry… I didn’t know the men were lost!
Have the police been notified?
Let’s form a search, shall we?
SOUND THE ALARM!! They can’t have gotten far!
What am I, a rescue collie?
If I don’t know someone, and have no more information other than “He is not unattractive”, I don’t consider that to be a good enough reason to be officially interested.
I am friendly and polite, I smile, I am open to conversation, but I steadfastly refuse to behave like a lioness on the hunt.
I’m not going to start planning sieges on the poor man’s fortress just because his features come together in a way that is aesthetically pleasing.