Icarus
12-22-2003, 01:36 PM
Aha! I
know I said that I wouldn\'t be wearing pheromones anymore... well, as much... um... ok, they\'re kinda
addictive.
The havok and hilarity one can create by tapping the VNO of the unsuspecting never ceases to
amuse and amaze me.
My approach, of late, has been somewhat minimalistic. I have been favoring this
frugality over my previous wanton \'shotgunning\' method - peppering my stink-centres with various combinations
of fancy potions with equally silly names. \"The Screaming Wonder in the name of Steve\" was one of my
favourites. My recording of these experiences was rather haphazard at best. Who can forget the gentle
mooing of my return from Egypt? Actually.. who can remember it?
Exactly! It was too long! Too
random... Too much.
So I\'m being sensible with my collection, and savoring every moment. For now, TE
(using Boss in Motion as a cover) has been my bedtime battleax. The most alarming result being that which I am
about to recount.
Today, being as I am a lazy git when it comes to huge capitalist festivals, I was doing my
Christmas Shopping. Joy of Joys. I put on just one little spray of TE, spread over both armpits and a little on my
neck. My shopping experience was as normal, shop assistants being as friendly as they can when they\'re inundated
with shoppers asking them for random, unheard of items that they believe they heard little Jimmy talking
about with his friends.
I find that a gentle manner and charming smile work wonders in these situations. (life
tips 101)
Hokay... so I\'ve finished shopping, and I meet a friend (of the female and attractive genus -
joy of joys!) for a coffee to crown my achievements, relax my fraying tether, and appreciate some eyecandy whilst I
pour hot stimulant directly into my nervous system.
We had our coffees, we had our harmless flirting, we had
a jolly good old laugh about times past, present and possibly future. But so far, this is all par for the course,
and I\'m not really thinking about the TE that I\'m wearing, as it doesn\'t seem to matter now anyway. Then
things changed.
The waitress, carrying a full tray of coffees and whatnot, tripped behind me and dropped
everything and sorta fell over. I helped her stand then get everything picked up - she thanked me shyly then
scuttled off.
I (forgetting about Chemical Enhancement) put it merely down to chaos rules and the laws of
gravity. My female companion saw the westwise view, however, and told quite a different story: the waitress had
walked past me, eyes fixed upon me, until I gesticulated quite wildly (I was telling an anecdote about my weekend,
where a midget had pretended to box with me as my friends and I had walked between bars. Odder and odder, my life
does get..) and she simply \'started\' and then fell over. Specatacular.
We made our goodbyes (kiss kiss
and other such pretentious stuff) but I stayed on, to finish my pot of tea and watch the world go by for a little
longer.
The slapstick waitress came and sat down in the chair opposite me, and then thanked me for helping
her pick the stuff up. Her name is Jessica. She\'s from London, but is studying here and is staying here until
the 23rd to work before going home for the festive season. She\'s just about finished her shift. She\'s never
dropped a tray of drinks before. She could have died of embarresment.
All of this, I knew within the first 3
minutes or so. I barely had a chance to say: \"Hello..I\'m Steve, no problem\"
But I did say it, so the
early conversation wasn\'t entirely one-sided.
She then established as to my relationship with my erstwhile
female companion, and was satisfied with my answer: \"Oh.. Nah, Courtney\'s just a good friend.. One of my
partners in crime.\" (I\'m quite aware that this sounds odd, but it had been a long(ish) day. She seemed
relieved, but did not push any further with that particular avenue of questioning. The subject of my availablity
seemed to have slipped past my new, rather ditzy, companion. I\'m a sucker for the flustered,
unfortunately.
She then drove the conversation around such topics as: How this job sucked; how this city was
cool; how nice my shoes were and how she was in need of a real man. Not a boy.
When faced with an
cute, enthusiastic young girl, with two-tone hair, a nose-stud and a smile that could melt the polar ice-caps: I did
the only thing a normal red-blooded male would do. Ran to the bathroom, a la John Travolta in Pulp
Fiction, to question myself and gather my thoughts. I hadn\'t bargained for this.
I was full of
caffiene, laden with gifts, full of testosterone and had continued my stay in the coffee shop with the express
purpose of watching these things happen to others. I also have a girlfriend. Moral dilemmas can seem amplified
tenfold when surrounded by men urinating. (or not, as the case may be. I think I was making them uncomfortable as I
stood at the side massaging my temples) It\'s not that I was considering infidelity. It\'s not that I was
considering considering it.
It\'s just the comtemplation of considering the consideration of desire.
Perhaps. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif
Regardless, this post has already gone on too
long, so I\'ll cut past the chase, straight to the rabbit: I returned, chatted a little longer, suggested we go
party at a groovy little Club called Caberet Voltaire early in next year, \"Cuz, I figure that you\'d dig
it.\" She seemed pleased, wrote her name and number on the back of my hand then hugged me from behind as she went
back to work, wishing me a merry christmas and a great new-year.
Speaking only from the empirical evidence
provided by the relatively unsensitive skin on my upper-back, she had nice breasts.
I then strolled back into
the unforgiving streets and was pleased to note that the snow had stopped.
Then I recalled that I was wearing
TE.
I can only call this a hit.
I\'m sleepy now. I\'ve got a few eMails to send, so
I\'ll be online for a little longer. Comments are welcome: do you think TE had anything to do with this
masquerade?
My feet hurt, also.
Steve
know I said that I wouldn\'t be wearing pheromones anymore... well, as much... um... ok, they\'re kinda
addictive.
The havok and hilarity one can create by tapping the VNO of the unsuspecting never ceases to
amuse and amaze me.
My approach, of late, has been somewhat minimalistic. I have been favoring this
frugality over my previous wanton \'shotgunning\' method - peppering my stink-centres with various combinations
of fancy potions with equally silly names. \"The Screaming Wonder in the name of Steve\" was one of my
favourites. My recording of these experiences was rather haphazard at best. Who can forget the gentle
mooing of my return from Egypt? Actually.. who can remember it?
Exactly! It was too long! Too
random... Too much.
So I\'m being sensible with my collection, and savoring every moment. For now, TE
(using Boss in Motion as a cover) has been my bedtime battleax. The most alarming result being that which I am
about to recount.
Today, being as I am a lazy git when it comes to huge capitalist festivals, I was doing my
Christmas Shopping. Joy of Joys. I put on just one little spray of TE, spread over both armpits and a little on my
neck. My shopping experience was as normal, shop assistants being as friendly as they can when they\'re inundated
with shoppers asking them for random, unheard of items that they believe they heard little Jimmy talking
about with his friends.
I find that a gentle manner and charming smile work wonders in these situations. (life
tips 101)
Hokay... so I\'ve finished shopping, and I meet a friend (of the female and attractive genus -
joy of joys!) for a coffee to crown my achievements, relax my fraying tether, and appreciate some eyecandy whilst I
pour hot stimulant directly into my nervous system.
We had our coffees, we had our harmless flirting, we had
a jolly good old laugh about times past, present and possibly future. But so far, this is all par for the course,
and I\'m not really thinking about the TE that I\'m wearing, as it doesn\'t seem to matter now anyway. Then
things changed.
The waitress, carrying a full tray of coffees and whatnot, tripped behind me and dropped
everything and sorta fell over. I helped her stand then get everything picked up - she thanked me shyly then
scuttled off.
I (forgetting about Chemical Enhancement) put it merely down to chaos rules and the laws of
gravity. My female companion saw the westwise view, however, and told quite a different story: the waitress had
walked past me, eyes fixed upon me, until I gesticulated quite wildly (I was telling an anecdote about my weekend,
where a midget had pretended to box with me as my friends and I had walked between bars. Odder and odder, my life
does get..) and she simply \'started\' and then fell over. Specatacular.
We made our goodbyes (kiss kiss
and other such pretentious stuff) but I stayed on, to finish my pot of tea and watch the world go by for a little
longer.
The slapstick waitress came and sat down in the chair opposite me, and then thanked me for helping
her pick the stuff up. Her name is Jessica. She\'s from London, but is studying here and is staying here until
the 23rd to work before going home for the festive season. She\'s just about finished her shift. She\'s never
dropped a tray of drinks before. She could have died of embarresment.
All of this, I knew within the first 3
minutes or so. I barely had a chance to say: \"Hello..I\'m Steve, no problem\"
But I did say it, so the
early conversation wasn\'t entirely one-sided.
She then established as to my relationship with my erstwhile
female companion, and was satisfied with my answer: \"Oh.. Nah, Courtney\'s just a good friend.. One of my
partners in crime.\" (I\'m quite aware that this sounds odd, but it had been a long(ish) day. She seemed
relieved, but did not push any further with that particular avenue of questioning. The subject of my availablity
seemed to have slipped past my new, rather ditzy, companion. I\'m a sucker for the flustered,
unfortunately.
She then drove the conversation around such topics as: How this job sucked; how this city was
cool; how nice my shoes were and how she was in need of a real man. Not a boy.
When faced with an
cute, enthusiastic young girl, with two-tone hair, a nose-stud and a smile that could melt the polar ice-caps: I did
the only thing a normal red-blooded male would do. Ran to the bathroom, a la John Travolta in Pulp
Fiction, to question myself and gather my thoughts. I hadn\'t bargained for this.
I was full of
caffiene, laden with gifts, full of testosterone and had continued my stay in the coffee shop with the express
purpose of watching these things happen to others. I also have a girlfriend. Moral dilemmas can seem amplified
tenfold when surrounded by men urinating. (or not, as the case may be. I think I was making them uncomfortable as I
stood at the side massaging my temples) It\'s not that I was considering infidelity. It\'s not that I was
considering considering it.
It\'s just the comtemplation of considering the consideration of desire.
Perhaps. /ubbthreads/images/graemlins/smile.gif
Regardless, this post has already gone on too
long, so I\'ll cut past the chase, straight to the rabbit: I returned, chatted a little longer, suggested we go
party at a groovy little Club called Caberet Voltaire early in next year, \"Cuz, I figure that you\'d dig
it.\" She seemed pleased, wrote her name and number on the back of my hand then hugged me from behind as she went
back to work, wishing me a merry christmas and a great new-year.
Speaking only from the empirical evidence
provided by the relatively unsensitive skin on my upper-back, she had nice breasts.
I then strolled back into
the unforgiving streets and was pleased to note that the snow had stopped.
Then I recalled that I was wearing
TE.
I can only call this a hit.
I\'m sleepy now. I\'ve got a few eMails to send, so
I\'ll be online for a little longer. Comments are welcome: do you think TE had anything to do with this
masquerade?
My feet hurt, also.
Steve