The porters movie of my adolescence were the latest examples of uncompromising moral of our story. "Forbidden to 18 years, a sign that the movie - invariably French or Italian - appeared a naked breast, hopefully even two, was banned until 18 and had no conversation. Under 18s could not see a bare breast on the screen, under penalty of customs and out to claim her bare breasts in real life.
Among those 13 years, when I had my first sexual experience worthy of the name - with a beginning, middle, end, and, above all, a partner - and the 18, just saw 23 naked breasts, then recorded three complete and ten pairs randomly loose visa(careless neckline, etc.). I've received as gifts.
Breasts were real, alive and throbbing, not printed, painted, sculpted, projected on a screen or dreamed. Of these 23 nuns should have played 14 (need to consult my notes). But no good would use this argument with the doorman at the cinema. To argue that the breasts of Carol Martinne not have anything new to tell me because they could not be so very different from those of Ivan, there colaria.
With less than 18 years did not come and go. By law, I was not old enough to see her breasts. If I had seen some on my own, was not the responsibility of the doorman.
Porter dance was already over, so to speak, conversable. The trick to convince him to let you into the club lounge without invitation was to choose an argument - for example "must go and tell my sister that our mother went to hospital" - and insist, always insist.
Offering bribes not help, and even those who had money?
A good story might awaken compassion, or at least admiration for its literary value, the doorman.Or simply give in to the porter to get rid of the insistence of the applicant. "Go, go."
There was, in my time of going to dances, a talker of legendary doorman. Specialist in without invitation or without paying each porter who looked like a challenge to their creativity and persuasiveness, and rarely failed. But sometimes met a porter who knew him from other attempts.Once the following exchange occurred:
- You again?
- This time it's serious. I need to go.
- No.
- It's a matter of life or death.
- No.
- My girlfriend is in there. My biggest rival, a scoundrel, is in there. The two can be dancing together at this time. I had a fight with his girlfriend and I need to tell her that I regret. That we can return to what it was before. She does not fall into the bad boy talk.
- Talk to her tomorrow.
- I can not. I'm having a terminal illness. Maybe not pass tonight. Let me in?
- No.
- But I ...
- No.
- Okay. Take.
And pulled out a call which gave the doorman. He was invited, but get in dance without talking the doorman was against their principles.