*An encyclopedia describes a scorpion as a nocturnal arachnid that attacks and paralyzes its prey with a poison injected by the long, curved tail, used for both defense and destruction. Its sting is sometimes fatal. People often draw back visibly when someone says he or she was born in November, murmuring, "Oh, you're a Scorpio!" either in frank fear, or in awe and respect. Sometimes there's also a giggle that obviously refers to the legendary Scorpio passion. Scorpios are fed up with these reactions to their Sun sign, and who can blame them? But they are ruthless and dangerous, right? Wrong. It depends. First, you'd better learn how to recognize the sign. In self-defense perhaps-or because you seek a really superior human being. Scorpio likes to travel incognito. Thanks to their well-controlled nature, they usually succeed, but there are a couple of short cuts which will make it easier to penetrate our disguise at midnight or at noon. Look at the eyes. They can be green, blue, brown or black, but they'll be piercing with hypnotic intensity. Most people feel nervous and ill at ease under Scorpio's steady gaze. You'll have to break the spell and look away first. We'll outstare you every time. It's a foolproof identification of the Pluto personality. Scorpio eyes bore deeply into you, mercilessly, as if they're penetrating your very soul. They are.*
Listen to me speak. The tone can be velvety soft, husky or sharply cutting, the speech slow and measured or clipped and staccato, but what I say will never be self-effacing. Scorpio has total ego. I know what I am and what I'm not, and nothing anyone else thinks will change this knowledge. Insults roll right off my back, and compliments don't move me a fraction of an inch. I need no one to tell me my vices or my virtues. At best, I'll calmly agree with your appraisal; at worst, I'll suspect your motives.
If you're sensitive, don't ask my opinion or advice. You'll get the naked, brutal truth. You asked me, I'll tell you. I will not pay a false compliment to gain a point or win an ally. It's beneath me to flatter. When I say something nice to you, treasure it. You can be sure it's sincere and unvarnished. If I say you have a good voice, stop singing in the shower and grab a microphone. If I say you have a great voice, you can safely audition for the Met. I may even effortlessly move a few mountains out of your way to help you along. Don't believe everything you hear about Scorpio selfishness. Instead, listen to some of the grateful people who have been on the receiving end of my wise counsel and generosity. I naturally attract either fiercely loyal and dedicated admire, or envious and spiteful enemies. But even the latter give me grudging respect, and you'll notice they're careful not to challenge me openly.
You can be sure that heaven certainly has no fury like that of a Scorpio woman who's lost her normal steady control over those inward, seething, Pluto emotions. I can be overbearing and domineering, sarcastic and frigid- then turn as hot as an oven at 500 degrees Fahrenheit. I can hate with bitter venom and love with fierce abandon. I can shriek like a furious banshee or whisper like an affectionate turtle dove. One thing you can be sure of - I'm never wishy-washy.
I have a disconcerting gift that can make icy shivers run up your spine. It's a peculiar form of black magic, and I weave it so expertly it can seem like real witchcraft. You have very little chance to escape, once my eyes meet yours. Because of my mystical sixth sense, I can often recognize a future mate at first glance, and somehow, I'll transfer this perception instantly. You'll have one of two reactions. You'll be hopelessly caught in my spell, and down you'll go, in a dizzy spin toward surrender, or you'll be scared right out of your socks, and feel like running for help. What's your rush? Stay around awhile. You might find out what life is all about. I know. And I'll teach you. Anyway, you should be flattered that I consider you worth that strange gaze. A Scorpio woman can't excuse weakness in a man. I look for ambition and courage. I want a mate who can dominate me and make me proud, without disturbing my secret individuality. He's expected to be strong, masculine and better-looking than average. A high degree of intelligence is required to match my own excellent mind, plus more than a passing acquaintance with abstract, philosophical wisdom. So put your socks back on and practice a superior smirk. Everybody you know will think you're pretty super to have me staring at you. The men and women both. It could open new vistas, when you think about it. Your personal stock should zoom several points higher than it was before I noticed you.
Having once achieved closeness with a female Scorpio, you can be positive you're a unique and unusual man. You can also be sure that my love for you is unmatched by any you'll ever experience - and you can take that in several ways. You'll be the most important interest in my life. If I'm a typical Pluto girl, I'll boost you loyally, and try to please you with passionate intensity. If you're too hard to please, I'll show my frustration with passionate attempts to conquer your disinterest.
The word "passionate" probably caught your eye. Most men have heard exciting rumors about the passion of November females. It's true. I'm brimming over inside with passion, though it's kept under rigid control by a poised, frosty attitude toward strangers, and a surface smoothness suggestive of black velvet. But the male sex is too inclined to relate passion strictly to romantic action; and that's selling me short, because Pluto's definition of the word is far more encompassing. It's involved with my feelings about everything I touch. I'm never just slightly interested. It's impossible for me to be detached or casual. I seldom like or dislike a play, a book, religion, furniture or people. I either bitterly resent or I intensely worship. If one of these two passions can't be aroused, then I totally ignore, with ice around the edges. Yet, through it all, I'll remain essentially untouched by emotional storms, judging at least from my placid exterior, which always drapes itself around me after each minor or major nuclear explosion.
I will sometimes nearly drown you in my passion for living, yet in a real storm, my cool, calm reason and steely strength will be a life raft. Though I work my magic in strange and secret ways, my haunting eyes will always gaze at you with basic honesty, even while I remain just beyond the reach of human understanding. I'm a little dangerous, perhaps, but undeniably exciting.
