Which leads me to the subject of charisma. Wouldn't we all like to know the extent of our own magnetism? I can't say my charm was at full throttle when I strolled by Elizbeth, but had she been at the other end of the street, so that I was walking eastward with the sun behind me, squintless and relaxed and perhaps in dusky silhouette, my own charisma would have swirled out of me like smoke from a hookah. And Elizabeth, the enthralling Elizabeth, would already be snarled and corralled. But my charisma has yet to fully bloom. It's as though something is keeping me back from it. Perhaps fear: What would happen to me and to those around me if my power became uncontained? If I were suddenly just too sensational to be managed? Maybe my obsessions are there to keep me from being too powerfully alluring, to keep my would-be lovers and adventures in check. After all, I can't be too seductive if I have to spend a half hour on the big night calculating and adjusting the aggregate bulb wattage in a woman's apartment while she sits on the edge of the bed checking her watch.- (pg 17)
Author: steve martin
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