Ladies, meet Scott. That’s him in the middle in the photo. Yes, the one with the mane of hair and the pager clipped to his jeans.
Scott and I were fraternity brothers at UCLA, and for as long as I’ve known him, he has epitomized the term “chick magnet.”
Within the fraternity, there was a standing air of mystification over Scott’s ability to attract women. He didn’t have to say anything, he didn’t even have to make eye contact. The ladies would just magically flock to him.
Seriously, Scott could get shit on by a bird and somehow use that as a way to attract women.
And in case you think I’m speaking in hyperbole here, that is exactly what happened one time….
Years after we graduated, a group of us met up in San Diego, at a hotel bar on the beach. We were sitting in a row along the bar, with our backs to everyone else at the place.
At one point in our conversation, a seagull flying overhead decided to take a great big dump, and it landed right on the back of Scott’s white shirt. Of course, he was a little annoyed. But, being the laid back surfer dude that he is, he simply turned around and wiped it off.
Noticing what had happened, a group of strangers at a table behind us lobbed a few words of sympathy towards Scott. It barely registered in my mind when one of the women in the group got up and walked out of the bar.
Ten minutes later, we were once again deeply immersed in alcohol and had forgotten all about the seagull poop. That’s when the woman who had left returned with a bleach pen. She walked up to Scott and said, “Here, this will take care of the stain.” And before Scott had a chance to respond, she started cleaning off his shirt for him.
Now, in case you were wondering if Scott had been flirting with this woman, he hadn’t. In fact, none of us had spoken a word to this other group. Remember, we had our backs to them the entire time.
And yet, here she was, eagerly de-staining Scott’s shirt for him.