BAD GIRLS

You know you're getting old when you see a web site entitled: "Bad Girls In Your Town" and your first reaction is: "Perhaps it's time for their mother to put some Fels- Naptha in their mouth!"



I have solicited girls from ads in my time but these were usually posted on the bulletin board of the local "Stop N Go". Most, if not all of them, were for babysitting services or cleaning services.



I doubt if this is the same outreach. Perhaps that is why my wife often comments to me, "Nothing seems to get past you, does it?"




I have trouble with many of the things that appear to go on these days despite seldom ever being accused of being a prude. My thoughts go back to other times when we were much more guarded as to what we said or did. That wasn't all bad.




One of my first jobs was as a teen age soda jerk in a local drug store in Western Pa. My duties included the usual soda jerk stuff but occasionally I found myself enmeshed in the "other duties to be determined", as discussed with the pharmacist in my initial interview before he hired me.



One such duty was that of neatly wrapping the boxes of sanitary napkins in colorful unmarked pastel shaded wrapping paper kept on a large roll in the back. The purpose of this important task was to promote modesty for the female customer who was in need of same but didn't want to make an announcement to the rest of the community as she walked home.




Another wrapping duty was to periodically change the cellophane labels on the large candy boxes so as to reflect a soon to be holiday gift option. Like the turning pages we viewed in the old movies as they quickly peeled from the calendar on the screen, Valentines Day candy quickly immersed itself into a Easter purchase option . Sometimes, the once proud box that appeared on our candy counter in January/February reappeared much later under a tree as someones last minute Christmas gift. Hey, you don't throw good candy away.



I am grateful for this education for which there were no textbooks provided.



The soda fountain I "managed" was on the left side of the short and narrow room midway down the left wall. It had 6 or 7 rotating backless stools which faced the counter. The apothecary section was against the opposite wall and was slightly enclosed allowing only two small windows. This was so the owner/pharmacist could keep track of customer traffic, as well as other activities that might be going on.




The side window faced the high back booths further back on the left wall where ,occasionally, customers of the not related opposite sex would meet and smoke their cigarettes while sipping the cokes I had carefully prepared in the various flavors they requested.







As a young and callow kid I imagined all kinds of assignations were being

planned in those booths.




A rational person might at this point conclude I spent too much time perusing the unexpurgated novels at the front of the store everytime the boss headed with his newspaper down to the lavatory in the basement.




That person would be right. My hormones were only exceeded by my acne diminished ambitions.


I found I was not alone with my lascivious thoughts.




One of my many job duties included referring other young males back to the apothecary area when they came to me seeking to purchase protection . The sale of condoms was not yet one of those yet to be determined duties.




On a few of the nights during my tour of duty I took particular delight in knowing the owner's pharmacist sister was filling in for him. Our "protection sales", never that great anyway, fell off precipitously on those occasions.




Once the potential customers spotted the substitute pharmacist they demonstrated amazing alacrity in stopping in their tracks and showing off their mastery of the "U-Turn".




Times were both similar and different. I smile as I reflect back on them.





Somehow we survived without receiving directions as to the location of the bad girls in our town. We just blundered along on our own.