Animal magnetism (a retro-post)

TUESDAY: You know how they sell pheromone perfumes and colognes for sexual attraction? Pheromones definitely work. What they don't tell you is that everybody already makes their own pheromones, but we wash them off, disrupting the natural pH of our skin with harsh soaps, which in the long run actually makes your body odor worse. Then we use chemical antiperspirants that block our sweat glands, which is unfortunate because that's where pheromones are secreted from. If you stop using those chemicals, you may see interesting things happen. You may notice people acting differently toward you. 

I'll relate a few instances from today. Now, I'm not bad looking and I'm used to women looking at me. But normally, unlike us males, females are smooth and discreet about it. They don't break their necks turning their heads to stare at you. But, today they're being just a bit more aggressive, and maybe it's the pheromone thing.

So, it's time for my ADD support group meeting. I get on the Halsted bus headed downtown and I see a lady I know from the local library, who smiles at me. 

Then I pass another sister who's kinda thickish and pretty. She's eyeing me, and as I take a seat just behind her, she turns her head to look at me. Then she turns her whole body around, so she's halfway facing me. Ignoring her, I take out a newsletter that I received in the mail that day, and I start to read it. 

After awhile, she asks me what I'm reading. I tell her it's a Bible prophecy newsletter, the contents of which I do not necessarily subscribe to. We start talking about Revelation, and morality, and wars, and stuff like that. There's really a lot that I could say, but not really being in a conversational mood, I don't want to unload a whole lot on her.

Turns out she's married, but she is interested (she claims) in finding an "intellectual brotha" like me for her girlfriend, who always gets caught up with dogs. (Well, I think: Obviously, she likes dogs; who am I to interfere?) But the sister has to get off soon and we just exchange a polite goodbye.

Oh, that meeting? Turns out I got the date wrong, or I didn't receive the notice that it had been cancelled. Total waste of time. But, a typical ADDventure.

So, I get on the Madison bus heading back downtown. There are a couple of real get-o lookin girls, maybe H.S., maybe college freshmen, in the back row. One is chunky and dark-skinned, with a beehive hairdo dyed loud red. I sit a row in front of them, although around a corner in the little recessed nook where they can't see me.

Suddenly I see a head pop around the corner. It's the red-beehived one. She just gawks at me for several seconds. She says nothing. I keep my mouth shut and gawk back. I don't think I even smiled. Maybe I should have raised an eyebrow or something; I didn't mean to come off like a total tool.

Now That was cute. Even if she wasn't that cute.

But the cutest was on the Red Line. Between the bus and the Red Line, I grab a salad at McDonalds, then head down into the subway. Once on board, I take that little single seat in the back of the car behind the door. I've got my salad from McD's out and I'm digging into it. The dude sitting across the aisle is a 39ish looking dude I've seen around before, probably on the train. He keeps looking at me.

Dude asks me, "That's one of those salads, isn't it? One of those McDonald's salads?"

I nod yes. "They're pretty good." I look back down to my salad and my Conscious Choice, and continue reading about Rudolf Steiner and the Waldorf schools.

  We see the usual cats pass through, hawking socks and CDs and stuff. But the most interesting visitors entered after we passed Roosevelt. Actually they came bursting through the door from the car to the back: a very dark-skinned but very odd-looking female, acting a fool, followed by some similarly silly brothas,  all whoopin' and hollerin'.   They pass me, run down the aisle, open the door at the other end, and disappear into the next car.

I see the 39ish guy keep looking at me. Then I see him sitting there jiggling his leg back and forth. My, he's restless.

A few minutes later, the door at the other end of the car opens again, and back come the woman and the rambunctious train of guys following her--loudly shouting, as before, headed back toward me. I wonder what they were all hopped up on. Upon getting a better look, first thing I notice is, the boys are feeling all over each other. Then I notice that the girl's face is awfully mannish. They pause to open the door by me. The guys turn and give me a saucy look. The one in back of the conga line reaches forward and fondles one guy in front of him. Then they disappear back through the door into the other car.

Passengers shake their heads and laugh amongst themselves. I keep reading and eating my salad.

Around 63rd or so, the guy sitting across from me, perhaps emboldened by the previous display, gets out a pad of paper and starts writing.

When we get off at 95th he hands me a folded sheet of paper. "Here, this is for you."

I almost want to say no, but don't have the heart. I take it and say thanks, then jet and run up the stairs as usual, then head out to the east side of the station to catch my bus.

The note reads:

I Don't mean any
Disrespect, but I
could'nt help to
notice you.
If you are not
offended, Please call
me. My name is
Alfonso
773-568-19XX

I have to say I wonder why on Tuesday nites there seem to be so many of these types on the Red Line. I've noticed this in previous weeks. Do they have some type of meeting every Tuesday night too?

Early Edition (a retro-post)

I'VE BEEN WORKING AS AN EXTRA on the Chicago-produced TV series “Early Edition.” The shoot today was cold, and fun. Met some cool female people: f'rinstance, Joanne, a 45-ish Assyrian who says she teaches Sunday school – and who also seems to like talking and joking about sex a lot. Then, Nye, a cute, plump sista from my alma mater, Columbia College, who conveniently lives near where I grew up, and even knows some guys I used to caddy with at Idlewild. Also, Ally from Barrington, a blonde, model type. She’s got a few inches on me, but so what. She goes to school in Ohio, but is here for a weekend visit apparently, and decided to work the show today.

They put the two of us together on the alley scene. We're shooting in the alley behind the Cultural Center, right off Lake Street. Ally is so nervous, worried about what to do. As it turns out, we'll be the ones – along with model-boy (what's his name?) and Joanne, who get to run in to Fisher (Stevens)'s bloody body after Kyle (Chandler) yells for help.

In one of the sidewalk shots, by the way, as Kyle charges down the sidewalk to the alley opening, he zigzags right behind me, almost knocking me over. I hope they use that take. However, they re-shoot it a couple times. The final time, they have just me run over to the body. No telling which take they'll use.

Scenes are shot out of order and most extras don't even get a call sheet, let alone a glance at a script. So we are only vaguely aware of what the scene's about, let alone the episode. I never did see the episode air; nor, for that matter did I ever see most of the other EE shoots I've worked, or the feature films -- even the one where I worked as a stand-in for the lead.

While we background folk stand around outside, waiting for them to set up the next shot or whatever, I leave Allie and go over to chat with Joanne, who also seems interesting. Several times while talking to Joanne, I glance up to find Allie peeking at us.

Later I go back toward her. She exults over our luck at being featured: “They like us. I wonder why?”

“Well, I know you look good on camera,” I say. “Off camera too.”

“So do you.”

I wave it off with my characteristic modesty.

Allie gladly gives me her numbers at school and at home, and demands mine. She even playfully rubs my freshly shaven head. I'm glad I've managed to look passably good after only three hours of sleep, a long day at work, my eyes glazing over from wearing unwashed contacts, and a big zit on my face. We'll have to get together sometime so she can see me on a good day.