A reader writes:
I had to comment on this: "How this tub of white lard was such a lady-killer says a huge amount about the man's seductive skills." I worked in the '90s for a woman who was as politically conservative as anyone I’ve known. But she once told me of a time when she was visiting DC. After a long day, she sat on a bench to rest and soon a jogger with an entourage came upon her. It was Bill Clinton, who paused to speak with her (I should mention that she was an attractive woman in her mid to late forties), asking how she was doing, what she was doing in DC, how she was enjoying her visit. She related to me that although her politics remained unchanged, she found him, even sweaty in a t-shirt and running shorts, to be the most charming person she’d ever met.
Another shares a similar experience:
I can't tell you the exact nature of the Clinton magic, but I can tell you it wasn't about the body and it definitely worked. In 1992, I was 20 and spent several months volunteering for Patty Murray's first senate campaign. On a swing through Eastern Washington, we got the opportunity to meet Clinton, who was the presumptive nominee by then (I think it was late summer). My friend and I, both hard-bitten college feminists and terribly serious, had been for Tsongas, thank you very much.
But still, we stood in line to shake hands. When he got to me I said some silly thing like, "The young women of America are counting on you, sir" … and for a full five seconds I got the baby blues right in the face. "Thank you," he said in the drawl we came to know so well, "I need your support and I appreciate it very much." He clasped my hand the whole time – I was melted.
And he's seriously not my type. My friend, who already abhorred him for his rumored womanizing, got her turn and a few seconds later squealed and went dancing over the grass. She's embarrassed about it to this day, but there was no denying the magnetism.
The Dish 