Charlie

You are such an innocent! Obviously you have never been in an orgy in a dark room after a few drinks.

Ah, yes, the Bronx. I took an American friend there one night when we were traveling in France. He kept disappearing into the dark back room, and finally I got tired and went back to the hotel. When he appeared at the hotel in the early morning hours, I saw that he no longer wore his watch--someone had slipped it off and taken it without him realizing it. Then he turned around to do something, and I said, "What happened to your pants?!" Someone had sliced the seam in the back, and taken advantage of the opening. He had walked back to the hotel through the streets of Paris unaware of how he had been buggered. He reminisced about that night for years afterwards.

I always thought I knew how to pronounce Oregon, Nevada and Colorado, until I moved from the East Coast to the West Coast.

Seeing this photo in "vintage men" makes me feel old.

Considering that I apparently look so much like my father that elderly relations sometimes mistook me for him (they were usually slipping into senility), that would probably have made me a narcissist.

How sweet! He calls his car Claudia.

They got their brand name on the assumption that Quakers were vegetarians who ate oatmeal rather than meat for breakfast, and the brand symbol was a white farmer in a flat round broadrimmed hat that was supposed to be a sign of the "plain" people. It came out of the same symbol-generating advertising machine as Aunt Jemima and her do-rag.

Two of them were certified pre-owned, so maybe the first owner kept the contents of the trunk.

Now how about the stereotyping of members of the Society of Friends?

3,2,1

The thread heading needs to be corrected.

None of my Mercedes-Benzes ever came with that in the trunk.

She called and interviewed me over the phone, because her husband was too busy to interview me himself. We had a delightful long conversation, and the next day he called and offered me the job. I have no idea what she told him to convince him to hire me. I didn't meet her in person until after I started working. The impression I got of her over the phone was of someone extremely attractive, and I was rather surprised to discover she was quite homely.

I am assuming that the "hazard pay" increase is a temporary measure during the pandemic, not a claim that working in a grocery store is inherently a hazardous occupation.

Narcissus.

Family get-togethers on holidays. I haven't seen a single one of my blood-relations in years.

How about an oboe?

Yet another shot from your vacation?

Not necessarily:oops:

Anything involving fire, razors or knives.

Well, I would say that any sex outside of a relationship which one of the partners in the relationship didn't consent to would be NCNM (often branded as "adultery" by those who object to CNM).

CNM, for "consensual nonmonogramy." It turned up in an "Ask Amy" column in the LA Times, in which Amy was responding to a worried mother who learned that her son and daughter-in-law were openly engaging in sexual relationships with other people. And here my spouse and I were practicing it all these years without realizing it had a name! Now I can simplify things by explaining that I am LGBTQ in a CNM relationship.

?Yes, I was. (The legal drinking age was 18 in New York in those days, and I was over 18.)

FWIW, I got my first job as a college professor because the dept head's wife apparently found me so charming that she told him to hire me, so he did. (He was trying to find a last minute replacement and I was available.)

The first time I heard the Piaf recording was on the jukebox in a gay bar in Greenwich Village called the Fawn, in 1962. I couldn't get it out of my head, and I decided then and there that it would be my theme song. I haven't regretted that either.