The summer that I graduated from high school I was hired as a salesman in a large retail shoe store that carried only women’s shoes. It was on 34th Street in Manhattan, just across the street from the Empire State Building.
That was June, 1967. Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club was releaed in mid-June. The hippies in San Francisco were just getting rolling, the movement spread across the country like wildfire.
I waited on and met women, young and old, tall and short, gorgeous, less gorgeous and a lot less gorgeous, fat and skinny, white or african-American or hispanic or asian, ALL DAY LONG. I met a lot of women and even a month or two before my 18th birthday, there were dozens of college freshmen or sophomores or high school seniors and juniors, where I could get a number or two or three every week. Getting them to go out with me was another story but if they gave me a phone number I kept bringing out more shoes.
The other great thing about that job was: ( and to our female flutherites, please keep in mind that I was 17 when I started this job and I did it on and off but full-time every summer for four years).
It was the summer of love. Miniskirts and I mean short miniskirts were all the rage and these customers showed a lot of thigh and genital areas whether they realized it or not. Again I was 17, still virginal (I lost it that fall) and like a kid in a candystore. Pantyhose had not hit the market until that spring in tandem with the trendiness of the mini-skirt and that summer a lot of women wore pantyhose without their “knickers” adding some more interest and motivation to the job.
It was a great way to meet women. They were paying me for service as I was on straight commission and if I asked a girl for her number, regardless of her positive or negative response, this often times made the difference between a sale and a walkout. If the customer thinks you like her (or him) the odds on making the sale increased.
As to meeting men, we did get some customers who were a little taller and a little more muscular than our usual customers and one or two of the salesmen improved their social life a little on occasion.
Now everything is self-service and that is no way to conduct a social life.
There’s more but I was raised to know when it is time to shut up.
SRM