Open call.
Can you do that? Remember those personal ads in the back of Willamette Week or the San Francisco Whatever? The back of every city weekly everywhere.
That reminds me of a story. Talk about the horror. The old man was hot stuff. This was a long time ago. Bit of a celebrity. Bit of a stud. Well, I mean, you have seen photos. Surprising, but true.
He gets invited to some suburban school outside of Portland, some place unrewarding like Hillsboro. He’d been asked to teach these high school kids how to write. Not sure that could be done. Almost positive not in fifty minutes. Not sure he could even teach them to sit up straight.
You need a hook. He decided to teach these kids how to write a personal ad.
Seemed like a good idea at the time.
So let’s write one this very moment. MWM, tall, HWP, athletic septuagenarian with aching nut. Rather not drive at night. Try to stay regular.
That’s all I got.
In Portland, in the early Eighties, when you agreed to “weekends at the beach,” you knew somebody was getting laid. “Loves to cuddle on the couch” usually meant a cheap date.
“No tobacco” suggests a secret party animal.
The old man managed to keep a modicum of order, garnered a number of laughs and a couple of surprised gasps and guffaws. One of the seniors gave him her number and said she was eighteen and a avid reader. Said she greatly enjoyed weekends at the beach.
The school administration was on the phone to his boss before the old man – flush with the joy of having molded young minds – got back to his office. Either the writing teacher didn’t want children hearing the truth or she was disappointed he turned her down for a drink. She wasn’t HWP.
Reminds me of another story. Buddy of mine, successful businessman, had been having no luck getting this woman into bed. Dinners, flowers, the theater, the opera. Drives her all over, through and around the wine country. The boy tried everything he could think of. Always the perfect gentleman.
How about I take you to Mexico? Puerto Vallarta??
I’ll go but I’m still not sleeping with you.
She went. They came back.
How was the trip? I wish you could see the look on his face. Expensive and she still didn’t sleep with him.