Alone in the dark
My first true introduction to the wonderful world of lust, came from, of all things, an advert. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life would pursue a frightened, cringing man through a museum, before dragging him into an Egyptian sarcophagus as the advert ended. Supposedly, this was all due to the aftershave he had chosen, although it offered no explanation for why, if he'd been man enough to wear the damn stuff in the first place, he didn't actually display any spine, or evidence of masculinity when a totally hot woman came onto him. And not in a "Hi, how you doing?" kind of come-on, no; this was a full-on, "As soon as I get you alone, I'm going to ..."

The ellipsis above is why this is a crush, and not a generic wank fantasy. Because at the time, I would have been about 9, and I had absolutely *no idea* why she wanted to be alone with him, or what they were going to do inside that sarcophagus. I just knew, deep down in my very bones, that if she'd approached me, I would not have been such a scaredy-cat. No, I would have been dragging *her* to the sarcophagus, and then figuring out what to do when we got inside. I thought it probably involved kissing, but not the kind you gave your Mum, or your Aunties. I also reckoned that it probably involved taking clothes off, and I could see how that might be tricky in such close quarters, but I could also see how that would be a lot of fun, in and of itself.

I watched endless hours of utter shite, just praying for that advert to come on so I could see her again. 1974, so no Net, no Wikipedia, no idea that she was an actual actress who'd been in proper films, and the whole Egyptian schtick was because she'd been in a 1971 Hammer horror film about Egyptian Mummies (see what they did there...?) All I knew was that I wanted to be in that sarcophagus with her more than anything. Private. Dark. Alone.

Other crushes would hit later on, Kate Bush, Debbie Harry, Sally James - the usual for anyone who was a teenager in the 70's/80's, but without her, I don't know that I would have been ready. And the horrific thing is that the advertising worked. For years, I bought my Dad the aftershave for Christmas, and then ask if I could use a little dab of it whenever we were going out anywhere public. Like a museum, or an art gallery. You know, just in case it actually worked...

She is still phenomenally beautiful (http://www.stalbansreview.co.uk/resources/images/842526/?type=display), and the temptation to come over all testosterone-laden now that I do know what I'm doing is quite severe. But you know, I don't think I would (even in the very unlikely event it was ever an option). Some memories are too powerful, and too precious to be messed with. I'd maybe like to buy her a flower, and kiss her on the cheek, and thank her for ensuring I turned out extremely heterosexual.

Valerie Leon, you are a goddess.
(Leo Sasquatch hates being the grown-up, Fri 6 Nov 2009, 22:55, 1 reply)

Amen.

( Larry Vest One day at a time, sweet Jesus, FFS., Tue 10 Nov 2009, 16:33, closed)