The author. When he had his Mojo.
Simms Jr. had sex appeal. He thought. But it hasn’t seemed that way, recently. Here, he examines the disappearance of his mojo.
I’m not single. But, I like to know that every now and then, I have “it”. That matinee idol stare. That George Clooney head-cock. That Denzel Washington cadence in my speech. That “it” that I’ve had since my late 20s.
If you are a decent looking person, and you have a sizable amount of charm, you know what I’m talking about. The “it’ is the natural sex appeal that a person has. We’ll also call it mojo. Some people don’t have any mojo. At all (God bless them). Some people have a little of it. Some people have a decent amount (that would be me). And some people have a Jedi Knight-level of mojo/sex appeal that’s…unfair (“You don’t need those clothes”).
When I’ve displayed or used my mojo, usually, it’s worked in my favor. My mojo in the past has gotten me free drinks (from women at a bar and a few female bartenders), extra food at fast food restaurants (that stuff matters in your 20s), and tons of extra smiles and blushes from women at gas station, convenience store, and movie multiplex counters.
Well, that stuff used to happen. Not so much anymore. As I mentioned earlier, I’m in a relationship, so when I do try to use my mojo, it’s to get the stressed out woman behind the cash register at the grocery store to relax. So I can distract her while she accepts my expired coupons. Or, if I’m at Subway, the young cutie making my foot long sub might add two more pieces of roast beef to my sandwich if I apply my mojo at the right time.
None of that’s gone down in a long time.
That last few times I’ve gone to a gas station, and I’ve given a female clerk the Clooney head slant, they’ve looked right through me. When I’ve hit them with the Denzel purr, they’ve asked me to speak faster. When I lay on them the Taye Diggs “rumble”, they’ve asked me to speak louder. (I am confident enough to say that Diggs is my generation’s coolest sex symbol. I can also say that the one thing I’m totally jealous of when it comes to Diggs is his voice. He’s got one of the coolest voices to ever hit media. And my girlfriend loves him.)
Is my mojo gone?
Has my age (40) crippled my mojo? Does my bald head signal “Where’s the Geritol?” instead of “Who loves ya’ baby?” It is it my gym deficient body? Am I more “flinty” now instead of sexy?
In thinking about my dilemma, I’ve found an answer. Mojo/sex appeal/”it” doesn’t work by itself. Mojo works with…danger. Adventure. Unpredictability. Mystery. For mojo to work, it has to work in concert with an air of danger. The person who has rampant sex appeal and a glint of danger in their eye is going to get all the free roast beef they want on their sandwich.
The person who won’t get that extra meat on their foot long is, me. Or any content, happy person in a content, happy relationship. We don’t have a glint of danger in our eyes. It’s hard to come across as dangerous and unpredictable when you know you’d better have your ass at home by 9:30. You can’t send hearts a flutter like Diggs did in How Stella Got Her Groove Back when in the back of your mind you’re thinking “Yes! My girlfriend baked cookies tonight!”.
In the end, what matters is that my mojo worked well enough for me to land my lady. I’m good with no more free gas gift cards, extra hamburgers, and getting better seats at theaters. Baked cookies, a warm house, and my ass being home by 9:30 is cool me.
Taye Diggs can now relax, now knowing that his rival has “retired”.
—Photo Greg Simms Jr.
