My Failed Pheromones Experiment
“I’m afraid Dr. Baker is running a little late.”
Damn it, does this guy ever run on time? It’s only 9 am! I settle into an uncomfortable Colonial wooden chair and glance at the magazines arrayed on the scuffed coffee table. Ancient. I desultorily grab a two year-old Harper’s Bazaar with half its cover missing. Thumbing through the old celebrity gossip and passé fashion trends, I stumble across an article about pheromones. All I know about pheromones is that even though I’m unaware of it, I probably think my husband’s armpit smells better that someone else’s husband’s armpit.
The article is about the work of one Dr. Winnifred Cutler, a professor at Penn who discovered pheromones in humans, which sounds legit. She also has a website where she sells synthetic pheromones to the lovelorn, which doesn’t. The research seems real enough, though; 74% of study subjects who used her product experienced an increase in hugging, kissing, and sexual intercourse. Whoa, who couldn’t get behind that?
I am especially impressed with a study of identical twin women in an NYC bar. One wore the pheromones, one wore plain old witch hazel. Ready? Witch Hazel Twin was approached by 11 guys (not bad!), but Pheromone Twin was chatted up by 30 guys. According to Pheromone Twin: “They didn’t just talk, they were enthralled with me.” This is actually really interesting! Even though I’m not on the market myself, I am fascinated by these claims for a modern day Love Potion #9.
“Susan? You can follow me now.”
Ah, I have to steal this article. The magazine is so old I worry I won’t be able to find it again. I turn my back on Dr. Baker’s assistant, cough loudly and rip. Avoiding eye contact, I shove the pages into my bag as I follow her to the exam room.
Back home, I head straight to Dr. Cutler’s site, which is the home of the Athena Institute. Athena? Hmmm, she’s the goddess of wisdom. Athena was always described as a virgin, and had no lovers. Not such a great endorsement. Still, the site promises amazing results with every vial of pheromones; if this stuff really works, OMG that would be amazing. My daughter, who’s 19, could have her pick of guys! Wait, it’s $100 for 1/6 of an ounce. How much is that? A few drops or what? But then, it says you only need a tiny bit. Just a smidge and you’re good to go. I type in my Mastercard number, feeling a little giddy with the possibilities.
A week later, the pheromones arrive and I sniff. Nothing. Just an odorless, colorless liquid in the bottom of a tiny cobalt bottle. I head straight to my daughter’s room to present her with this potentially miraculous gift.
“Seriously, Mom? That’s the last thing I need. My love life is complicated enough as it is.”
“What??? Who wouldn’t want more suitors?”
“Well, do the pheromones make guys fall in love or just attracted?”
“Hmmm, just attracted I think. You have to handle the love part.”
“So you’re saying that if I use this stuff, I will have even more guys drunkenly shouting “You’re hot!” or “Wanna come to my room when this place closes?”
“Well….maybe. OK, never mind.”
I don’t need to check the return policy at the Athena Institute. I know that I own these pheromones, that I have thrown $100 into the garbage can of Life called Experience. What the hell. I decide I’ll try them myself. I’ll give it two full weeks, starting right now. It will be interesting to see what happens. Better not mention this to my husband. If he sees the charge on my Mastercard bill, I’ll tell him the Athena Institute is where I get my mammograms.
Day 1
4 pm:
I read the instructions and dab the pheromones under my nose, as instructed. That’s kinda weird. Doesn’t that mean I’ll just be smelling my own fake pheromones? Will I be attracted to myself?
7 pm:
Steve’s home. No immediate response.
11 pm:
Going to bed. Steve seems oblivious, perhaps even a little distant. Maybe because he’s been smelling my real pheromones for 24 years, fake pheromones are an intruder? Maybe I seem different, not in a good way.
Day 2
10 am:
I shower after working out and reapply the pheromones. I’m assuming the shower removed yesterday’s application, because if they’re found in sweat and saliva, they must be water-soluble.
I don’t have a lot going on today; I plan to work from home and may not be interacting with too many men. I hate to waste a single, precious drop of the stuff, but for the sake of the experiment, I know I need to follow the protocol.
11 pm:
No response whatsoever from anyone today. My male standard poodle has been looking at me longingly all day, but that’s nothing new, and besides, even if he wasn’t neutered, he’d probs only go for canine pheromones.
Day 3
1 pm:
OMG. Bingo. I’m freaking out.
Went to my favorite frozen yogurt place for lunch. Owner Danny is salt of the earth, middle aged, seems like a great husband and dad, etc. He’s also extremely physically unattractive and the most socially awkward person I’ve ever encountered.
I order a small White Chocolate Mousse with rainbow sprinkles.
As Danny hands it over, he casually asks, “Hey, how’s that gorgeous daughter of yours? I know Nutty Vanilla is her favorite flavor, haha.”
WTF??? First, that’s a bit creepy and totally unlike Danny. Second, why are the pheromones that I paid for eliciting a response about my daughter?
“Uh, she’s fine thanks.”
“Haha, that’s good. Hey, if you ever have a couple of hours and wanna hear a guy’s perspective on why we love hooking up, let me know.”
@#%&&&!!!! EWWWWWWW. This guy has no idea that I blog about the hookup culture. This is a random, totally inappropriate remark. Is it the pheromones? It must be!
Oh, and one other thing: that conversation about why guys love hooking up wouldn’t take longer than ten seconds.
Day 4
8 am:
So creeped out by yesterday’s chat with Danny, I don’t know if I should continue this. That was ridiculous. I was in that shop for five minutes. We were separated by a counter, he was nowhere near my nose. He’s just a weirdo; I never realized.
Well, today is a new day. I wet the tip of my finger with the pheromones and touch it to my upper lip.
12 pm:
I walk the dog, do a “stop and chat” with Bill the postman. Bill has some boundary issues. Nothing major, just asking to heat his lunch in my microwave sometimes, and wanting to park his car in my driveway when it snows. But I don’t like it when he rings my doorbell. I’d rather he bothered old Mrs. Porter across the street.
“Hey, listen, can I ask you something?”
“You need the microwave?”
“Nah, I was just wondering if you lost a bunch of weight or something. You look really good.”
GAAAAHHH. I have not lost any weight! What the hell? Do these pheromones change men’s perception of me, like in Shallow Hall when Jack Black sees a super-svelte Gwyneth Paltrow, when in reality she is a super-fat Gwyneth Paltrow?
Wait, if that’s the case, this could be great. Like walking around in a fun house mirror where I know that everyone sees me as thin. But what about women? Will they be affected? Nah, they can’t dig another chick just from these pheromones, I don’t think.
9 pm:
I mention Bill’s remark to Steve, who gets pissed. Uh oh. Steve says he wants me to tell him if Bill makes any more inappropriately flirtatious remarks. I can’t tell him about the experiment, so I have to let it pass and hope Steve doesn’t say anything to Bill.
Day 5
Nothing interesting to report. Saw lots of guys today, but everyone acted normal.
Day 6
Ditto.
Day 7
9 am:
Heading to church. Oh Lord, what if Father Morgan acts skeezy? Hmm, on second thought I don’t think he’s into X-chromosome pheromones.
4 pm:
Just got home from the movies. I think the popcorn guy might have winked but am not sure. Otherwise, no real evidence one way or the other. I think I’m in a slump.
Day 8
2 pm:
OK, I’m totally embarrassed and freaked out. Ugh, this is really awkward. Worked out with my personal trainer, who is exactly half my age. He is always courteous and respectful. He’s a good guy. Today, though, he stared at my breasts for the whole hour. Seriously, I had to keep clearing my throat to get his attention; he seemed distracted, almost dazed.
Now, I’ll be honest, I’ve always been proud of my rack, but this guy has never given off that vibe before. I mean, let’s face it, at 52 I’m not the best ad for fertility. Plus, he’s a total professional.
Most uncomfortable moment was when I felt extremely agitated, and he noticed my heart rate jumped to 158 while we were standing still.
Day 9
3 pm:
Saw my dad for lunch today, and it got me thinking. What if these synthetic pheromones turn on the guys in your own family? I mean, Steve seems immune, but I figure that’s because he selected me based on my natural scent. We don’t share DNA. But my dad didn’t select me, my brothers didn’t select me. If I screw around with fake pheromones, could it trigger desire in a family member? Oh my God! Stop, I can’t even think it!
Day 10
9am:
OK, that’s it. I can’t do it. I’m abandoning the experiment. The whole incest thing was the last straw. I figured that it couldn’t hurt, and might even be fun, to get some positive attention from men for a couple of weeks. I never dreamed that every one of those interactions would be incredibly creepy and weird. I imagined handsome strangers flirting a bit. The cute guy at the wine store. The super cute guy at the Verizon store. I hoped I might even get a “Your mom is really hot!” from one of my daughter’s guy friends (preferably Mike).
None of those things happened! No cute strangers gave me a second look. In fact, no one the least bit attractive took the bait. All I got was unattractive men I already know seeing me in a new light. How burdensome!
Is it possible this is all a coincidence, that it had absolutely nothing to do with the pheromones? Yes, of course. But I don’t think so. I must deduce that yes, female synthetic pheromones are effective in increasing the amount of attention you get from guys. But man, what terrible attention. And what guys!
In conclusion, I believe that there are several morals to this story:
- I learned (as I have many times before) that we should be careful what we wish for.
- I learned it doesn’t pay to be greedy. This was way too much of a not-so-good thing.
- I learned it’s best not to mess with nature. We know all too well that when we mess with nature, we have a tendency to really screw things up.
- I learned (as I have many times before) that my 19 year-old daughter is wiser and more mature than I am.
This has been a rather hilarious experience, and telling it is my favorite new dinner party routine. I am resolved that in future, I will just let my husband smell my armpit when I’m craving a little attention.
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