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The Lure of 007

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Hunting down the unattainable and elusive British lady-killer.

By Michelle Valles, Photo by Rudy Arocha

Most women love a good JB. As in James, James Bond. Pardon me, boys, if you’re dyslexic. I’m referring to Mr. 007, the statuesque, refined, intelligent Royal Naval Reserve Commander whose cold, British accent can take hostage a lady with just a whimper. After all, he does have a license to kill, and what a lady-killer he is.

Oh, I know because it happened to me on the Tube in London last year. The fictional espionage character was inspired to be dark-haired, cruel in the mouth, with eyes as dark yet cold as a warrior. A mystery man who women long to hold yet can never have. Our insatiable attraction to these lady-killers is just part of this cruel call of the wild. It’s what makes the hunt animalistic! Hence, the reason why we pay to sharpen our nails every two to three weeks. You thought it was to be wellgroomed? Seriously? Who isn’t guilty of wanting to land someone who’s unattainable, even if just for a while? So sue me!

We all appreciate delectable prey after a well-earned capture. It’s a rare treat. Blame it on biology, I guess. We females equate masculinity with the ability to father children. But if you’re really lucky, maybe she just wants a quick, dramatic affair. Whatever the case, at some point in our tumultuous lives, we are drawn to bad boys. It’s universal.

Google me. I mean, Google it. Even recent scholarly studies show there is a link between dark triad traits in men and the poor women who fall for them. But aha! Survey says it’s only for short-term mating. Darling, did you think we want to fight you for alpha status all the time?

The lesson here: Go easy, pal. Don’t get too sure of your hot self. Eventually, we do get over your narcissism and can beat you at your game. So don’t be surprised when the dork who played classical trombone trumps you and, well, in the end, gets the hot girl. As the book of love has repeated time after time, nice, decent yet strong (not always physically) men are always the ones chosen in the long run, after our quick fling with the bad boy, of course. You do want a wise, experienced woman, right?

So, is it possible that today’s James Bond actually softens with time to cater to a woman’s true necessities? (Notice I didn’t say desires.) Well, let’s name a few who played JB: Sean Connery, Pierce Brosnan and Daniel Craig. Yes, yes and yes. We’ll have one of each, please, thank you. Oh, sorry, back to the theory and question. Well, perhaps.

Skyfall, the new James Bond film starring Craig as the leading man, even got a five-star Vatican blessing. Wow, this secret agent is good if he can pull that off. Could it be the bes t of the 23 James Bond films? Some reviews say yes, claiming it to be more relatable and moving. Huh? James Bond and those characteristics don’t match up. Hey, I don’t know. Go see the movie or read Rotten Tomatoes.

However, there is one sexy British line—“007 reporting for duty”—that’s all I had to hear from Bond in Skyfall, which defines why we like our JBs. The sultry enigma evokes one of the most attractive traits any mate can have by simply defying even death, just to get things done. Ay, papi. It’s a simple equation of why Bond always gets the girl. Oh, and that Italian suit doesn’t hurt either. He’s an engaging, quick-witted, Oscar-award-winning actor when it comes to pretending to be listening to your every desire, appearing intrigued about your life, knowing how to diplomatically order others around while satisfying you.

So much it might tempt us to leave our boring Mayberry lives behind for a little romp in the perils of life. As my dependable friend Diana acknowledges, “with that kind of guy, you don’t ever have to pull out your wallet, and if your girlfriends are in tow, they don’t have to either.”

The JBs of the world know how to lure the man-eaters they crave. It’s a slow seduction that us women know leads, sadly, to cheap wine and broken-heartsville. But like the movies and fantasies we grew up watching, we have an unrelenting hope that perhaps we are the woman that will change him and the fairy tale will go down as a steamy love story. Oh, brother. That’s why movies sell.

So, true, in the end, we wise up and go for the more relatable, softer JB. The man may not necessary look like a James Bond (unless you are Austin philanthropist Carla McDonald married to Jack), but, you know, may be the man who gets it done . Whatever that may mean to her. Which, after further review, begs the question: Do real James Bonds exist out there?

Out here in Hollywood, I can tell you yes, they do, but they aren’t looking for well-seasoned pumas. They prey on young, naive, irresistible kittens who still don’t know what it’s like to fight for food out in the wild, mean, competitive jungles. Pu-lease! James Bond wouldn’t know what to do if he met his match anyway. And remember, tigers, that’s exactly what she probably wants.

So, guys, if you meet that woman—you know, the one who’s confident in her own skin—retire the rotating door of hot babes and don’ t let go of your Bond girl. And for those of you who thought LA would harden me, shame on you! I might be in LA, but I’ll always be here reporting for duty.


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