Word: hangouts
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...already a network headliner at 29-Johnny is the epitome of cool. He is intelligent, laconic, deferential and facile. On occasion, he asks the studio audience to submit questions to him on any subject. Somebody once asked: "Are women permitted in Hurley's bar [the NBC hangout in Rockefeller Center]?" Replied Carson swiftly: "Permitted to do what...
Drop into a Peace Corps hangout in Delhi, or a resthouse in Nigeria, and chances are the conversation will run to gossip about other Volunteers, mingled with the latest half-despairing, half amused stories about the locals. Such talk is the stock-in-trade of the white man in the tropics, and to this extent at least, Peace Corps Volunteers are no different from other expatriates. What does distinguish their talk, however, is the thread of concern for the job that runs through it: there will be insistent questions about so and so's method of teaching irregular verbs...
...usually runs to dark paneling, Tiffany lamps and sawdust floors, the entertainment to jukeboxes stocked with the latest rock 'n' roll hits. Signs sometimes read: "Age Limit: 24 for Men, 21 for Women." Once the word is passed by the powder-room tom-toms that a particular hangout has become "a nice place to meet people," the rush is on. "After that," says Don Hogan, 39, manager of Denver's Piccadilly, "it all depends on what they work out together-kind of like electrolysis...
...yield on first encounter is her telephone number. Explains one Manhattan junior editoress, stressing the fine distinctions: "These are places to meet people, not to take a date." For once she has snared a man, the last place a girl wants to go is back to the old hangout. "I'd be insulted if he even suggested it," says one alumna. And for one very good reason: A return visit would only subject her new catch to certain needless temptations...
...furor in Washington, Powell continued to disport himself on Bimini (which he calls "Adam's Eden") in the company of the comely Corinne (whom he calls "Huffie"). By now, Powell treats the Bimini natives as if they were his constituents. Whether holding forth at his favorite hangout, Brown's Hotel bar in the tumbledown gingerbread village of Alice Town-where he sips Beck's beer and "cowbells" (Cutty Sark and milk)-or slapping backs on the street, Powell calls the Biminians "my kin" and "soul brother." At week's end, he prepared reluctantly to leave them...