I am an equal opportunity investigator, raconteur (that word again) and offender. The men of different eras are fun to mess with, and the women many times get a bum rap. Espicially in ad copy, where men really did rule, and most of it was aimed directly AT men, unless it was selling soap, detergent, diapers, or food. Truth. Well, here is one, from the back of PlayGIRL magazine, circa 1995. When we hear ‘phone sex’ (no pun intended but snicker away) we think of some dude in a trailer on one end…and some dude in a trailer on the other end. Don’t lie. In this case, though, the women could call any of these numbers, and get a caring, understanding, romantic, listening, MAN. Who actually wants to LISTEN and not solve her problems. And knows where the clitoris is. And is a true gentleman in every sense of the word, thinking only of her own needs and never his own. He knows wine and listens to jazz and classical music and can discuss Anna Karenenna and Wuthering Heights (Oh, you rascal Heathcliff!) into the wee hours. You know, the polar opposite of most guys. Then AND now. One would hope the numbers led these women to someone NOT in a stained up wife beater with a five day growth of beard and breath that smells like the latest rotgut and who hasn’t spent up the weeks pay at the strip joint.
And no, I haven’t tried the numbers.