The power of scent is totally underestimated -- for instance, many assume Nuclear Man's fearsomeness derived from his harnessing of solar fusion, but without the odor emanating from his chafing full-body loincloth, Superman could've easily taken him and prevented the ultimate tragedy, Superman IV. Helping you become a nasal hero: Crimson Phoenix.
Run by a man who once owned a same-named "sexuality bookstore" and his partner -- a shadowy triple threat of master perfumer, scent chemist, and (seriously) Buddhist Lama -- Phoenix offers customizable pheromone colognes/perfumes said to work on the subconscious "lizard brain" ("I-guana sex you up"?). During a consultation held in an apartment abundant with posters of chicks with dragons, porcelain daggers, etc., the proprietor'll balance client preferences with body chemistry for scents from citrus to musk to a "Michael Jordan" knock-off, which still packs more punch than Dra-Kerr Noir. Next he'll query about what you want to accomplish with the scent; over 15 under-the-radar years, they've had:
- Nightclubs adding pheromones to fog machines to increase dance-floor erogenousness (erogenosity?)
- Bartenders wanting to mellow out patrons
- A dominatrix hoping to ensure compliance and pleasure (her scent = "Beat Me Raw")
- A used-car saleswoman who claimed pheromones caused men to "sit in the car, buy it, and have no idea why"
- The Phoenix proprietor himself, out to up sales in his former kitchen-salesman gig, says he was confronted by a nude customer while "measuring her sink". P.S.: Those quotes aren't ironic.
If you'd rather not travel to outer Southeast Portland, Phoenix will also make house calls. Either way, they say pheromones only "level the playing field", and don't guarantee success -- but hey, if you can't get a hit out of Christopher Reeve, Gene Hackman, a young Jon Cryer, and the legendary Mark Pillow as "Nuclear Man", there are no guarantees.