05 July 2012
Women of 1987: Smarter Than Our Phones
An '86 hit sung for Princess Diana in '89
They all made more money. The account executive at Edelman. The FBI agent who wiretapped Mafia thugs. The divorcee with a dress shop. The MBA accountant. The MBA brand manager. And that red head from Shearson Lehman.
They dressed conservatively. That is, for work: Brooks Brothers. Anne Taylor. Laura Ashley. At night, they took off the floppy paisley tie, slipped off their slip-ons and, under a restaurant table, gently placed their stocking feet on your crotch.
They always seemed to live on the Upper East Side. Some had a car service. Others had an answering service. They all drank white wine and took their ear ring off when they answered the phone. I see their ghosts on the street and in the bars.
The clubs? They're all gone. Except for Sounds of Brazil. Years ago I brought my ex-wife to NYC on a business trip. I asked the concierge at the Markham Hotel, a plump and fast talking woman from, I'm guessing Queens, if SOBs was still open.
I tell her I went there when I was single and lived in Chelsea. I tell her how I'd drink a couple shots of 151 rum at the bar, order a Brahma beer and take it out on the packed dance floor and gyrate by myself to Samba. She looked at me, cocked her head and said, "Honey, you don't want to take your wife to no club you went to when you was single. What the Hell's wrong with you?" What, indeed.