Word: carli
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...crossexamination, Bob Conrad's temper suddenly snapped, and he jammed the accelerator in anger. "It's not as simple as that," he rasped. But before he could say much more, a Nebraska highway patrolman flashed him to a stop. Muttering his disgust, Conrad got out of the car to talk to the cop. Bobby Kennedy, his mind still zeroing in on politics, paid no attention. Slumping down in his seat, he turned his questions on Helen Abdouch. "Can't we do something to straighten it out?" he asked plaintively. "Won't the county organizations work with...
...reforms, prostitutes can be jailed in Italy only when caught in the act. To guard against this misfortune, the klaxon girls have begun mounting lookouts on Lambrettas. Last week Milan's cops nabbed one such Paul Revere whose duty was to ride ahead of the morals-squad patrol car, warning the freewheeling hustlers that the bluecoats were coming...
...such names as Yvette of the Opel, Rossana of the Dauphine, Maria of the Appia, discreetly toot horns and flash headlights to attract the prospect's attention. In a favorite gambit, pairs of klaxon girls pull right alongside male motorists; the one at the wheel keeps the car just abreast, the other casually unbuttons her blouse. Blonde "Insurance Nadia," on the other hand, got her name by her habit of gently jostling a male driver's rear bumper, then sidling out to coo that her insurance company will pay damages, if any-and making her proposition...
Klaxon girls, though willing to accommodate pedestrians, prefer motorists-not only because in Italy a car is an assurance of affluence, but also because, as one girl said, "you don't have to take them back where you found them." Largely self-employed, the most successful of Milan klaxoners take in as much as $160 nightly, charging about $20 for a ride to a 45-minute assignation in hotel, pension or apartment. Some, starting with a down payment on a tiny Fiat 600, have worked up to Alfa Romeos, Lancias and Fords equipped with bar, reclining seats, recorded music...
...ended up in a neurological clinic in Nice, where the diagnosis was barbiturate poisoning, plus slight wrist lacerations. Brigitte's periodically estranged husband, Cinemactor Jacques Charrier, far off on the other side of Southern France, in Biarritz, where he had gone after their latest spat, jumped in a car to drive to her side. At week's end the aging "Sex Kitten" of French moviedom was recovering. Paris' deadly serious Le Monde, customarily oblivious to BB, accorded her a sort of ghoulish obituary-in-life: "Once upon a time there was a starlet who saw happiness only...