When I was a junior in college and looking for a summer job to defray the next year’s tuition, I answered an ambiguous ad in a newspaper and found myself selling high-quality pots and pans, china, and cutlery to unmarried working girls. It actually was a good job for a good company. I ended up selling $20,000 of merchandise in eleven weeks. My sales put me at number six among the college kids selling kitchenware up and down the eastern seaboard. My bonus was an all-expense-paid trip to Bermuda, with the company executives and about ninety of the other young peddlers.
We stayed at The Princess, a hotel in the country’s chief town of Hamilton. A posh hotel, that. We had a couple of business meetings, I suppose so as to count the trip as deductible from company expenses. Mainly we had free time. Some of the other students used it to go to one of the beaches at night for co-ed skinny dipping. Clearly, the Sexual Revolution was well underway. I don’t suppose we got any healthy marriages out of those four days.
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