David Fitzsimmons: Amorous guidance from the love trident of PCC's Chevy Nova of Casanovas

2013-04-06T00:00:00Z 2014-07-02T10:49:19Z David Fitzsimmons: Amorous guidance from the love trident of PCC's Chevy Nova of CasanovasDavid Fitzsimmons Arizona Daily Star Arizona Daily Star

Lonely? Searching for that special someone? Would you like a little romance in your life?

I'm former Pima Community College Chancellor Roy Flores and I'm here to set you on the path to romance. Keep reading while I dim my office lights, put on some romantic music and pour you a martini in the official "I 'heart' PCC" mug they gave me when I retired. I am the Chevy Nova of Casanovas, compact and sporty. If seduction truly is an art, many claim I was the Thomas Kinkade of canoodling.

The road to romance begins with selecting the ideal dazzling temptress. Enraptured, Pepe Le- Pew would always pursue a feline whom he had mistaken for his own kind, a skunk. Do likewise.

Finding the right bird can be as challenging as finding a vacant parking space during finals week at the Downtown Campus. Look no further than the workplace, Don Draper. Every workplace has a "glass ceiling." Look down through it, King of the Jungle, and take your pick. The bigger the institution, the better the pickings. Pima has almost as many saucy skirts on staff as we have remedial English classes.

Avoid equals and whistleblower types. You don't want her singing about you like Adele at the next Grammies. If you find the kind of vulnerability you see at Divorce Recovery meetings, you've struck gold.

Start with an anonymous handwritten note revealing your adoration. Sprinkle some Hai Karate or Old Spice on it and drop it on her desk. Pass another follow-up note to her during a board meeting and watch her expression! There's something titillating about an executive in heels sneering and feigning disgust and threatening to end your career. You know she wants you.

Send an email using coded language such as: "Let's form a consensus." Or the coy," 1+ 1 = HUBBA HUBBA." Or my favorite seductive clincher: "woof."

Call your sylph at her crib and "talk shop." Tell her you value her contributions, she has great potential and you're in your bathtub. Splash around a bit, squeeze your rubber ducky and pump out a Luis Miguel love song with your armpit. Leave her wanting more. Close with the mysterious, "I dropped my soap."

By then she needs you like a river needs the rain. "Oh my God. You're sick" is just playful repartee. Now is the time to floss.

The next day call her into your office after hours to "work" on something that needs attention. Turn down the lights. Or if you have Tiki Lounge decor, like I do, turn down your lava lamp and grab your maracas.

Keep the CD player remote in your smoking jacket so the music of love magically starts. I suggest Luis Miguel, the Vic Damone of Mexico. If you're out of Luis Miguel, go with Barry White, the black Luis Miguel. Make sure the right track is cued. I learned that the hard way when, just as I had a dove cornered, Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever" turned up to 11 blew me off my balcony and left me cartwheeling onto a stand of yuccas.

Arch your sexy-beast eyebrow and rip the head off your baguette with your teeth. As you pour her martini, recite poetry. Start with Ogden Nash, slide into Rod McKuen and then pitch some Pablo Neruda her way. By now you're rolling like Tony Curtis when he seduced Marilyn Monroe in "Some Like it Hot." At this point you're going to need some killer lines like Ahab needed a rusty harpoon. Here are the three tines of my love trident:

• You complete me.

• Would you like an honorary degree?

• Guilty feet have got no rhythm.

Ask your enchantress to dance. If your devil in Prada offers a bewitching rejoinder such as, "get off me" and leaps for the door, this is the perfect time to remind the vamp you're looking forward to the out-of-town conference that's coming up. At the conference, call the charmer in her room and tell her to come over right away.

Here is my foolproof closer:

"Education is not all that I'm passionate about. I'm crazy about you - whatever your name is. Crazy, I tell you. Mind if I put on some Luis Miguel? Has anyone told you your eyes are the color of the beets we serve at the West Campus cafeteria?

"What's this, my coquette? Your palms are sweating like a Costco rotisserie chicken. Speaking of palms, did you know I have the entire college board in the palm of my hand. Do you like your job? It's your word against mine."

I had best end our romantic quest here. Next week we'll discuss "Frisky business and emergency room deductibles." It's time for you to finish your martini and give me back my PCC mug. Every time we say goodbye I cry a little. Until we meet again.

Email Star cartoonist and columnist David Fitzsimmons at tooner@azstarnet.com

Copyright 2014 Arizona Daily Star. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.


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