I guess I nearly scared the pants off Placido when I asked him out at the start of our final semester. I’d barely said boo to him for three years. I liked that he was different
In a course like ours there was plenty of bullish masculinity. For some, everything was a competition, from making that first ten million to who would finish up with me. Morons.
But Placido kept to himself. In the end that was all he needed to give him a kind of charisma. Not that I thought he’d ever be more than a middle manager. But he was a nice guy, hilariously funny when I got to know him. And he could spring a surprise when he wanted.
‘I’ll beat them all,’ he told me one night.
‘Beat who? At what?’
‘I’ll be making seven figures before they’ve even graduated.’
‘How?’ I asked.
‘All will be revealed.’
A few nights later he showed me a booklet. Nice package. Smart looking. The back page took the form of a patterned tattoo image.
‘Every one’s different. Computer generated. They’re a new formulation. Last up to a year.’
‘They have powers.’ He winked.
‘Seduction,’ he said. ‘They give people hope.’
‘Call it what you like,’ he said
‘Seduction,’ I said.