BY WOLE OGUNTOKUN
THE Whisperer has a crush on a certain female. It is one that has lasted for years and across two continents, from the time the lady lived abroad till when she returned to these shores.
The subject of the crush, a blogger and arts lover, is called Mona and her blog is called aramide.
You may go google her name if you’re one of those obsessed with The Whisperer’s caprices.
Others wishing to enjoy this piece should just flow with my story. Why do I have a crush on her?
There is a certain type of female that appeals to The Whisperer, and it is the “Thoroughbred”.
I am of the firm belief that women are broadly fitted into four main categories; the first of which is the Thoroughbred, of which procession Mona is not only a part of, but she carries a banner.
The other categories are The Girl Next Door, The Free Spirit and the Jerry Springer.
The Girl Next Door is about the same as the Thoroughbred and sometimes there are girls who blur the line that divides these two categories.
The Free Spirit is more mercurial and harder to keep tabs on, and the Jerry Springer is the one you pray you never have the misfortune of being intimate with.
So back to Mona. Each time I see her, I am reminded of what true beauty should be like, an essence emanating from the inside on to the outside.
I have had occasion on this page to write of those I have had crushes on. They are an exclusive range, from the Hollywood actress, Nicole Kidman to the Nigerian architect and writer, Peju Alatishe.
What is the common thread running through these women? I do not know if essence can be defined and put into a bottle but they each have a quality that cannot be tagged but which remains tangible all the same.
The singer, Beyonce, smites some men, but she does nothing for The Whisperer. I suppose it is true to a large extent then, that it is different strokes for different folks.
Now, admitting to a crush does not mean one is actively searching ways out to “capture” the object of one’s desire.
There is such a thing as a harmless crush and it is as healthy as wishing you will find ten million dollars sitting in a satchel by your front gate as you return home some night.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that satchel will never be found but it makes you feel good as you continue to work towards earning the amount you dream will fall out of a moving vehicle and right onto your feet someday.
Now, of the crushes I have had, and of those I have met personally, it is obvious there has been no intention on their parts to deliberately weave a spell on those who observe them, there is something about these women that lights up a room for me when they are in it.
Still, this piece is not about crushes but about the art of seduction, so enough of talking about women that fascinate me and on to those who have perfected the art of seduction or have been deluded into thinking they are masters of the art.
MANY years ago, I spoke to a girl I thought was very attractive and asked how she would let a person she was interested in know he had caught her attention.
She said she would keep her eyes on him across a crowded room and lightly lick her lips.
Now, that lip-licking gesture isn’t as lascivious as you might like to think. She didn’t do it like some lustful sailor would upon seeing a girl on shore after spending three months at sea.
It was a hardly noticeable act but it stuck in my mind. I have not been able to look at a lip-licking girl the same since then. Did it work for her? It probably did.
The art of seduction is in the little things, the subtle acts, the faintest grazing of the palms as you shake hands, the look that lasts for just that extra millionth of a second.
It is there if you know where to look and some take naturally to it, able to detect the faintest signals where they exist.
Once in a foreign land and as I stood at a bus stop, a girl walked past me, seemingly unaware I existed.
She was attractive and I watched her walk down the road a long distance. Just as I turned to look away, she must have been like 50 metres away from me; she turned on that empty road to look back at me.
She did not think my eyes would still be on her after such a long time and when she saw my eyes, she burst out laughing at the fact that she had been caught. Remember that when she passed me, she had pretended she was oblivious to my very existence.
In the art of seduction, things are not always what they seem, and you must learn to look for non-verbal cues.
Don’t they say that more than 70 per cent of communication is of the non-verbal kind?
It is not difficult to identify two people who have been intimate. There is that intrusion in each other’s private spaces, it cannot be helped, and it just flows naturally.
THE Whisperer has met up with all sorts, from the not so subtle ones who told him outright they had no boyfriends to the ones who gave the faintest of nudges.
The problem with the men who never get it right is that they are like people who wear muddy boots into a place where forensic evidence is being gathered and smear the walls and objects with chocolate-covered fingers.
They make a mess of the clues that should be treated with delicacy and that is that.
Once a girl told me that looking deep into the eyes of a member of her gender was seductive. If that is true, there are many girls who should be smitten by my charms.
Maybe I should write my own book on the laws of seduction just to say there is no one way of going about it.
I guess it’s true then that love is where you find it and if you find difficulty in getting the girl of your dreams with hints, come out in the open. “Faint heart never won fair lady”.