Suit up.

“Power Suit, Power Tie, Power Steering”

Subtly persistent. Ever present. This line is always at the back of my mind for the longest time now. Like the faint "adik, bangun Subuh..." echo that lingers when my eye lids tear open every morning (despite I now I live alone, despite I usually wake right after imsak), that phrase - “Power Suit, Power Tie, Power Steering” - recur in hymns when I'm all alone or when I'm doing a joint.

Vividly I remember, I got that line when I was watching the movie “Hitch” during the scene where the corporate swinger ‘Vance Munson’ was trying to render Alex Hitchens’ services.

There are so few moments in life where the vibrant shadows on the silver screen reaches out to you, strikes your brain like a lightning, define your perception on life. For me, that was one of the few moments that snowballed into the charming mess I am today.

A 16 year-old me with several disastrous imaginary relationships with the school cheerleaders, couldn’t help but to be in awe when Vance (played by Jeffrey Donovan; Burn Notice) grabbed Hitch by the collar, and whispered in his crisp Wallstreet Yankee accent;

“This is what I'm about - power suit, power tie, power steering. People can wince, cry, beg, but eventually they do what I want.”

In a fraction of a second, the soul of awesome seeped into my very essence.

*        *        *        *        *

For the next few months I spent my weekly allocated Counter Strike hours to do some research on the movie. Instead of being in a Cyber Café in Section 14 PJ, I spent my afternoons at home watching the movie over and over again, trying to figure out what made the character so masculinely awesome; and of course to visualize & attract an Eva Mendez-like GF into my reality (yes, I chose to recognize the Law of Attraction as a valid science).  

Well you can argue that in the movie Vance was a comedy sketch sprinkled with feminist retribution ideology - in a cliché shell of a rich player jerk; he was humiliated at a public restaurant; he got kicked in sack by Mendez and ended up anal-probing a copper bull with his face. Well though those things might be true, you have to give him credit.

Credit in doing what he sought out to do; credit in accomplishing the objectives he laid for himself; credit in persevering and also for innovating when circumstances are desperate and bleak. Credit in finally banging that Texan chick with the nice skin despite not getting any professional assistance from Hitch.

I’m not a total asshole. I give credit when credit is due.

Still issue of the matter is what made the 16 year old me drawn to his essence – Power. Which begs the question, where was the sense of power drawn from?

Money? Can’t be. Bill Gates is a billionaire and I don’t go strutting about in sneakers and jeans.

Caucasian? Maybe. All my friends from Taman Tun seem to be marrying white guys these days.

Then it hit me.

Suits.

After all these years it’s become more clearer to me. Donning a suit makes all the difference. I must say the subliminal influence of Barney Stinson episode after episode is obviously the case albeit not entirely. Pop culture and modern history add weight to my proposal. Triple H, Obama, Harrison Ford, John Legend, Jalaludin Hassan, Anuar Zain, Rajnikanth… Significant, influential figures of our time all have one thing in common : they can pull off a nice suit.

When I put on my black Raoul suit, I become the suit. Call it vanity or psychological anomaly; an electric surge runs up my spine as the suit holds my mushroom top in place and pushes the man-breasts snugly up – into the perfect manly figure approved by mainstream media.

It’s kinda like playing Skyrim when you get the enchanted Nightingale armor, it gives boosts to your existing skills! (+15 Illusion Spells or Wearer Movements are Muffled when in Stealth).

But when it comes to my suit, it’s like +50% Speechcraft, +180 Points in Social Value, Bra Clasps snaps off easily,  Seduction Attempts are 4 times more successful or Summon Taxi/Limo costs 0 mana whenever in the Golden Triangle district.

Like you readers right now, I used to think I’m full of shit. But when results started to become evident, I couldn’t deny it any longer. Women in clubs just respond instinctively when I walk by and I don’t even have to start my game yet. The Datuks & Tan Sris at work functions start to respond positively around me. And don’t get me started on security guards and receptionists.

Call it placebo effect. I love my suits. It's like my suit of armor, protecting from the emotional harms of judgmental eyes and social comments.

These days, I never leave for a date without it. It does sound impractical to be wearing suits in a tropical climate, but you can actually get away with it if you surround yourself with government officials and the artsy fartsy group in the KL colorful demographics.

Below: Jeffrey Donovan in Burn Notice