Well, I’m here to help.įlagging, or the hanky code, has been around for some time, some say since the gold rush.
They get close and tilt their head while asking that sweet, age-old question: “Are you flagging?”Īnd you’re not entirely sure what they’re talking about.
They saunter over grinning at you and it’s making you smile nervously and expectantly. You can see their eyes registering your face then traveling downwards, their gaze lingering on the red handkerchief folded square and neat in your ripped jeans, in your left back pocket. They have a whiskey and they look in your direction. They’re leaning against the bar counter, black boots shining, hips tilted, a red bandana hanging out of their right pocket. You’re sipping your too-sweet and too-strong cranberry cocktail and you look behind your shoulders and you see them.
