Tuesday, September 16, 2014

When Spooning Leads to Forking

Let it be known: I am a snuggler.

I love to cuddle. I like to hold, and I like to be held. I sleep close, and I prefer to share one couch cushion when watching movies. It doesn't matter if I'm hot or cold, I prefer to be under the covers, legs entwined in someone else's. I crave physical closeness, with people I am dating, and really with my friends as well. I like to hug and to kiss, to have my back rubbed and to scratch shoulders. It has only been recently that I've learned the power of being the big spoon. I'm little; I don't spoon, I get spooned. Or at least I didn't before. Now I know that sometimes, everybody just needs to be held. And that being the big spoon feels just as good as being the little spoon. Snuggling is snuggling, and it feels good either way.

One of my girlfriends just recently started selling Pure Romance - for those of you who don't know, Pure Romance is a line of amazing body products and bedroom goodies - think Tupperware parties for the more sex-crazed woman. In helping get her business off the ground, I have hosted and attended several of these parties in the last couple months, and am enjoying the education, the girl time, and the products I take home - specifically the lotions and potions chalked full of pheromones.

Time out. You don't know what pheromones are? Pheromones are the natural body chemical that attracts someone to someone else, on an instinctive level. Your body naturally releases them and will draw people to you, but you can also purchase them in bottled form, to speed up the process. Like a bee to honey.

Anyway, I'm obsessed with products containing pheromones, not just because they help make me more attractive to other people, but also because they boost my positive energy as well. I wear a perfume that contains pheromones, as well as a body spray, and at the last party I attended I purchased some sheet spray - it essentially turns your bed into magic. So I am basically a walking, talking, happy little pheromone. I have a more positive aura about me, I smell good, and on a raw level, I am more attractive to those people that nature thinks should want to bone me. And I have a magic bed.

People want to argue that it's all in your head, but I tell you, it's science. No hoax, no gimmick, this is real, pure, sex attractant in a bottle. A little dab on the wrists, coupled with a smile (the kinda smile that lights up your whole face), and a walk to your car is all it takes for that handsome fella to decide that sharing a bed with you is more important than the laundry he so desperately needed to be doing, what with his wearing laundry-day jeans and all. And sharing a bed that has been turned to magic, will in fact, make for an amazing night, complete with the snuggle you just can't get away from; the kind that keeps you held close all night, even though your room is one thousand degrees and you almost desperately have to use the bathroom, the kind that lets you wiggle closer, despite your bad breath or his snoring.

Pheromones say, you're welcome little honey bee.

While walking to my truck last night after dinner, drinks, and board games with friends, the same handsome fella who taught me the nature of being the big spoon, explained to me that he thinks pheromones are a woman's equivalent to a roofy. Say what? I about died. Pheromones, said this fella, are a woman's way of making a man subconsciously want to fuck her. Okay so maybe not exactly like roofies, but you can see where he's going with the connection. He argued that wearing something hopped up with pheromones is the same as spiking someone's cocktail, because it lowers their inhibitions and messes with their head, getting them all riled up and wanting to bone. I of course, argued that a roofy is intended to lower a woman's inhibitions, but that a date rape drug does not make a woman want to have sex, rather just eliminates her ability to get away. But one can apparently argue that a man may not actually want to have sex with a woman either, but that her pheromones eliminate his conscious ability to say no. Because the pheromones apparently can take over your whole brain.

I think one of the most attractive qualities in a man, is how much he can make me laugh. This one makes me laugh...apparently being accused of smell-good date rape, can be funny. And leaving our friend's apartment last night, walking down the street in the dark, me and this handsome fella laughed together all the way to my truck, where he kissed me - me and all my happy little pheromones - because he wanted to, not because he was roofied. No matter what argument he may make for being subversively raped by me and my pheromone perfume, the truth is, he kisses me because he thinks my mind is sexy, because I smile with my whole face, because I fall for vulgar one-liners, and because of the inappropriate jokes I make about fake babies when we're alone. Pheromones or not, he likes me #justalittlebit.

It may have been roofies that got him all the way from Portland to Vancouver on a work night though.