Linda Goodman's Sun Signs (48 page)

If you're important enough to the future of your Scorpio employee, you too can be a Mr. Fink. It's on a par with being immune to nuclear power, but I don't think you should let it turn your head to the place where you get over-confident. If I were you, I'd keep incidents like the foregoing at the absolute minimum. But I'm glad I'm not you. I'm not sure I would have the nerve to play Russian roulette with Pluto.

You can expect the Scorpio man or woman to accept the inevitable with grace, if the stakes are high enough. He (or she) will check out the potential with an eagle eye, figure the consequences, mark the possible reward, and make the final decision to submit with a cool head and a definite purpose in mind. Most bosses appreciate and admire the Scorpio philosophy. He knows the price of success, and he's willing to pay it, without asking for special concessions. When that success arrives, however, don't forget: it's half-time—change sides.

Compared to the attitude of the average worker, you'll discover there's another quality to admire in your Scorpio employee. It's an old-fashioned word, spelled l-o-y-a-l-t-y, rather a rare commodity these days. I'm not talking about lip service to your position as “boss” or the ingratiating, often hypocritical servility of the normal ambitious employee. Scorpios have their own sense of loyalty.

When I was with a radio station in a small town in Pennsylvania, I was permanently impressed with the remark of a Scorpio program director. The owner of the radio station was the meanest man in town. He was a cross between Scrooge and Captain Hook. About the nicest thing you could say about him was that at times he was meaner than he was at other times. He had one friend—his mother. Since he owned half the town, in addition to the station, he was smothered with respect and obedience. Although the staff called him “Sir,” smiled from ear to ear when he entered a room, and jumped to immediate attention every time he mumbled the slightest request, they made faces at him when his back was turned, and snickered privately at his funny bow ties and squeaky voice. They would have considered his funeral an occasion for a holiday, and the favorite game around the office when he was out of town was writing his obituary, with a prize for the most hilarious one.

The Scorpio employee never joined the game. He was always too busy with his programming. One day, a secretary asked him why he never contributed to the office hobby. He gave her one of those hypnotic Scorpio stares and said, simply, “He pays my salary. I work for him.”

“What's that got to do with it?” she wanted to know. “He yells at you in front of the staff every morning and he hasn't given you a vacation for two years. He never pays you a compliment. Don't you have any pride?”

The Scorpio never changed his expression. “I can't deposit compliments at the bank,” he said quietly. “I prefer cash.”

“But why do you take the way he treats you?” she persisted.

His answer was brief. “When I take a man's money, I take his orders. When I decide to stop taking his orders, I stop taking his money and leave. Do you have the program schedule for next week? I need to check it before I time the commercials.”

The secretary silently handed him the schedule, he took out his stop watch and went to work. A few days later, she asked him to bring her a coffee when he returned from lunch. Somehow, he forgot to bring it. He also forgot to send her an invitation to his wedding the following spring. He remembered her insinuation that he had no pride. Scorpions have long memories. That's an excellent illustration of how and when the typical Pluto employee chooses to seek revenge—against whom and why. It also indicates his personal code of loyalty to the man who employs him.

These workers are intense and tenacious. They're quite serious about their careers, and they never lose sight of the goal. Scorpios can be stubborn, rebellious, passionate and overbearing. But you won't often find them wasting office time by writing humorous obituaries. Death is a serious subject to them. So are you. You're the bridge to power. Consequently, you're respected, until the Scorpio has safely passed across the stream to the other side. Smart strategists don't destroy bridges, and Scorpios are smart. Some of them are brilliant. All of them are shrewd and logical. You'll often find Scorpio men and women gravitating to work that involves solving mysteries and penetrating the puzzles of life, machines, facts or human beings. Lots of them are detectives, psychiatrists, scientists, surgeons, policemen, researchers, reporters and even undertakers. They must increase their knowledge each day they live, at the same rate they increase talents, abilities and incomes.

Never pry into Scorpio's private affairs. He will not tolerate that. If he likes you and his job, he'll be generous and fair. He'll give you eight hours work for eight hours pay, and he won't watch the clock if the project holds his interest. But remember that he will always be firmly committed to his own code and ideas. He will be true to them above all other loyalties, including love and ambition. No one but himself can force him to alter his views and opinions. It has to be done through Pluto power, from inside his own nature. If his decision is negative, no one on the face of this earth can slam the door more suddenly or more permanently than a Scorpio, even a door bearing the title Vice-President in gold-leaf letters. He'll take just so much, pay just so high a price. When he thinks the cost is too much, he leaves. That's the way he plays the game. His
real
loyalty, when all is said and done, is to himself. That's not always as selfish as it sounds. When he was very young, his favorite verse began: “This above all: to thine own self be true.” He's always figured—if he does that—he can't be false to anyone.

 

“You may charge me with murder—

or want of sense

(We are all of us weak at times):

But the slightest approach to a false pretence was never among my crimes!”

 

I would say that finding an example of this Sun sign is as easy as rolling off a log, except that it isn't true. It's much easier than rolling off a log. Pick any party and look at the center of the liveliest group. See that fellow sitting there happily with his rather large foot stuck in his mouth? He's a Sagittarian who has just gone out on a verbal limb, but he doesn't know it yet. When he does, he'll look slightly bewildered—and the group around him will be looking daggers.

The archer will walk up to you, give you a hearty slap on the back and a wide, friendly grin. Then he'll greet you with a remark like, “How the heck do you manage to look so young when you're as old as you are?” Or “Say, that turtleneck sweater sure is flattering. You should wear them all the time. Hides your double chin.” After one of these cheery openers, he'll still be wearing his bright grin, but your own smile may start to droop a little. It will take him a while to figure out just what he said that set you back on your heels, and even longer to understand why. Then he'll try to explain. Keep your cool. It gets worse.

Golly, didn't you understand what he meant? He thinks it's fabulous to look only twenty-five years old when you're really thirty-eight (which is six years older than you actually are). As for the double chin, lots of people your age have a little flab in the neck region. The only time you can see it is from the side. You know, when you turn your head. Just don't have any pictures taken in profile.

After he's carefully explained his verbal goofs and got you feeling all better again, he'll go on his merry way, whistling a tune from the latest Broadway show. When you cut him dead the next time you meet, he'll be heartbroken—and puzzled. There's no use getting angry or embarrassed. Sagittarius is completely free of malice. He blurts out his shockingly direct speech in total innocence. The fact that he usually adds insult to injury when he tries to fix it also escapes him. Don't judge him too harshly. He means well. Not that he needs your sympathy—or mine. Under his tactless manner is an extremely clever mind and high standards. His unique combination of wit, intelligence and fiery drive usually brings the archer straight to the winner's circle. What really gets you is that both male and female Sagittarians are oblivious to their own blunt speech. They are truly convinced that they are the most diplomatic souls in the world. They're always saying, “Why, I wouldn't hurt anyone's feelings for anything. I'm very careful about that.” And they honestly believe it. In fact, everything they do is done honestly. Pretense and deception in any form appalls them.

Their physical characteristics aren't hard to learn. Look for a fairly large, well-shaped skull and a high, broad forehead. The features will be open and cheerful, inviting friendship and the exchange of ideas, and the movements will normally be rapid (though you'll find a few who move slowly and deliberately). They will often make wide, sweeping gestures, which may be dramatic and vigorous, but possibly not very graceful. Sagittarius can wave his arms to make a point, and upset the ketchup. He'll stride purposefully forward, head high, and trip over the curbstone. His brief case may snap open at the same time, scattering his papers all over the street.

Jupiter eyes are as bright and alert as a sparrow's, and they sparkle and twinkle with refreshing humor. The archers are either very tall and athletic looking or shorter than average, with strong, sturdy bodies. The tall ones will remind you of thoroughbred horses or spirited colts. In youth especially, many of them have a stray lock of hair which keeps falling over the forehead, like a horse's mane. They'll flip it back with a toss of the head or a quick, unconscious movement of the hand—a habit that may last long after a new hairstyle has been adopted in maturity or after baldness has set in.

Sagittarians are normally restless. They hate to sit or stand still. The archer is physically conspicuous, if only through his obvious confidence and his disregard for conventional behavior. He walks as if he's really going somewhere. There's no halting or hesitating. (But remember that a conflicting ascendant can slow down the gait.)

When you first meet him, Sagittarius could be perched on a horse or walking his dog. He loves animals passionately. Sagittarian Frank Sinatra once ordered his driver to stop his car when he saw an injured dog lying in the street. He was on his way to a television rehearsal, but musicians, director and camera crew had to wait until the singer had tenderly carried the dog to a vet, was assured he would be fine in a few days, and had found the dog's owner.

Sagittarians with natal afflictions to the birth planets can have, instead, a morbid fear of animals, but it doesn't happen often. Ordinarily, people born under Jupiter's influence fear nothing. The typical Sagittarian is attracted to danger—in sports and in his job or his hobby. An element of risk excites and challenges the archers. They love speed. Fast cars, planes—even roller coasters draw them magnetically. Daredevil test pilots are often Sagittarians. The average Jupiter person enjoys nothing more than a hairbreadth escape of some kind—either physical or emotional. It exhilarates them. They'll take a chance on literally anything (unless a meeker sign on the ascendant dilutes Jupiter's daring).

There's a difference between the legendary bluntness of the archer and the brutal speech of the Scorpio. Scorpio tells the truth, completely conscious of its effect, but still refusing to compromise. Sagittarius is totally unaware of the effect when his direct honesty compels him to speak. Scorpio feels little compunction about the wounds his statements cause. To him, the truth is the truth, and if you can't bear to hear it, don't ask. The Jupiter person, on the other hand, is crushed and dismayed at his own lack of discretion when he discovers he's really cut you. It would be touching, if it weren't so infuriating.

What is on the archer's mind and heart is almost instantly on his lips. He's as frank and earnest as a six-year-old. You can take that old advice, “If you want the truth, go to a child,” and switch it to “If you want the truth, go to a Sagittarian.”

There's a woman in the publishing business in New York about whom the same thing is said. “If you want the truth, go to Kay—if you can stand it.” Kay is not only an authentic archer, she also has additional Sagittarius influences in her natal chart. A Jupiter girl plus, you might say. She's warm and generous, typical of the sign, and she has lots of loyal friends who love her, also typical of the sign. They would have to be loyal, and they would have to love her to survive incidents like the time three years ago when she opened up her big heart and decided to completely outfit her administrative assistant for the winter. The young woman was flat broke, since she had just been through a drizzly financial disaster, and she was touched to tears. Others had sympathized, but until Kay, no one had offered a concrete helping hand. Leave it to Sagittarius. (You can read that several ways.)

One fine fall day, the two of them set forth for Saks Fifth Avenue in a fever of excited anticipation. The poor assistant was delirious with happiness—until they entered the elevator. Suddenly, the Sagittarian gave her a long, appraising look, and said quite firmly and quite loudly, “We'd better try the Fat Girl's Department first.”

Blind ecstasy was instantly replaced by numb shock. The assistant's fiancé had always told her she was “pleasingly plump.” Now, in one flashing painful moment of Sagittarian honesty, she had become a baby blimp. To this very day, the young woman remembers how everyone in the car turned to stare at her curiously, as she wondered if her fiancé secretly thought she was grotesque. But good old Kay fixed it. Noticing her assistant's discomfiture, she hastily made a joke to jolly her up. “And if we can't find anything to fit you there, we can always try the tents in the camping department.” The Sagittarian howled at her own hilarity. So did the people in the elevator.