Hartley Neita, Contributor
THERE WAS a time, not so long ago, when feminine nudity on the screen or in public was considered vulgar. In fact, it was a no-no for a husband and wife to be filmed sleeping in the same bed.
It was a French movie star, named Brigitte Bardot, who broke down the barrier of this Victorian prejudice. She stood just five feet in height. Her eyes tantalised and her mouth was in a perpetual promising pout.
It was then I met this girl. Call her Fay. She was the promise of a romance. After many telephone calls and 'accidental' meetings, she agreed to go with me to see a movie at The Carib. I took no note of the cast, and so did not see that Bardot was the star. In fact, while I had read about her I had not seen her movies before. All I knew it was a love story, the right beginning of what I hoped would be the start of a romance.
I fed Fay chocolates in the foyer. We sat and watched the story unfold. Gradually, my fingers crawled the arm of our chairs and tangled. Fingers squeezed. Love was aborning. Then Bardot shed her dress and she was cuddling the male star, who too shed his clothes. It was the first time I was seeing sex on the screen, but it was brief. Fay's fingers slipped from mine. She stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder and walked from the theatre.
I stumbled after her.
A bus was at the nearby stop. She paid her fare, even though I tried to do so. She entered the bus and sat beside a woman, even though there were empty seats for two. Eventually, she buzzed the driver. She walked to the door and proceeded to walk the road to her home. I rushed after her, pleading sorries and please forgives. Suddenly she stopped. Without looking at me, she blazed her anger.
"You are vulgar. How could you take me to see that dirty film?" I tried to protest. I did not know what to expect, I told her.
NASTY FELLOW
"Never, ever speak to me again," she said. "Do not follow me home. You are a nasty fellow. How could you ever think that I would enjoy that dirty film?"
Well, it's been 50 years since. She was married a few years later to a man I have seen purchasing Playboy magazines in the book shops.
It is a different world today than then. Rare is the movie that does not have a sex scene. Rare is the book which does not have pages describing the sex act in detail. Former Minister of Education, Edwin Allen, and his parliamentary secretary, Esme Grant, once toured Kingston's magazine shops and angrily removed Hustler and Penthouse magazines from the stands. To no avail.
Our own newspapers invite readers, young and old, to a variety of 'adult services' now available to one and all. There are 'exciting massages for professional men' with 'new girls each month'.
There are 'daytime pleasures' where you can obtain massages and so much more done by an exotic female. Out-calls are available. Satisfaction guaranteed.
And finally, there is the 'Sweet Sensation Massage Centre' with a weekly menu of sexy attractions. Discount Nite is on Sunday; Erotic Nite is on Monday: Naughty Nite is on Tuesday; Freak Nite is on Wednesday; Thong Special is on Thursday; Lingerie Nite is on Friday.
And you can end the week with a Mid-Nite-Special on Saturday. Wow!
