Word: parlors
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...four-wheel-drive vehicles have deeply rutted broad stretches of beach. On New York's Long Island and the New Jersey shore, vacation cottages overcrowd once pristine dunescapes. From those states southward, the Atlantic shore, with scattered exceptions, seems destined to become a stretch of boardwalk and pizza-parlor tackiness...
...Baltimore pizza parlor, a patrolman shoots and cripples JaWan McGee, a black youth, after seeing him reach for a shiny object in his pocket. It turns out to be a cigarette lighter. In Flint, Mich., an unarmed teen-ager fleeing a burglary is shot in the back by a policeman with a shotgun. In Chicago, three plainclothesmen severely beat a former mental patient who refuses to stop smoking in a subway car and resists arrest. Five hours later, he is dead. In Philadelphia, a 94-year-old black man who refuses to let utility company representatives into his apartment...
...sound funny, but it is--humor being relative. Later, they play the instruments in a music store so loudly that they catch on fire. They take over the stage in a nightclub and tell dirty jokes until a chair-throwing brawl breaks out. They wander through a massage parlor surprising patrons and playing their siren recordings. They even blow up their car by mistake...
With bestsellers on the New York Times (The Kingdom and the Power) and the Mafia (Honor Thy Father) to his credit, Author Gay Talese felt ready to tackle a really big subject for his next book. In 1971 he noticed a massage parlor near one of his favorite bars on Manhattan's East Side. Instead of saying "There goes the neighborhood," he decided that something was up, perhaps nothing less than "the redefinition of morality in America." An indefatigable reporter, Talese plunged into the world of commercial sex, not just patronizing massage parlors but also managing two of them...
...summer, I wait for the ugly melody of the construction worker's yell at dawn. The faces stare back at me--a tired traffic cop; the bag lady, waking from a night's sleep in front of a burnt-out marquee; the sleazy bum waiting for Caesar's massage parlor to open its doors to all his lust. By the end of the summer I told time by these people. Their habits were so fixed that I knew I was late to work if the doors to Adam and Eve's sex palace were already open...