|
I'll fess up. I liked Heinlein. Like Urbane, I was a teenage boy and had posters of Porsches with bikini clad women draped over them on my walls, and I read Heinlein.
I remember one scene from Friday, where the main character, a woman, needed to catch a space elevator up to the station orbiting the planet so she could take a rocket to the next destination. The elevator was cramped with only one seat, and the ride up lasted many hours. When she got there, the seat was taken by a man. So she acted all frail, like a weak woman, and the man got up and gave her his seat. So to repay him, she made sure to frequently bend over and dig around in her bag at her feet so the man, who was standing over her, could catch frequent glimpses down her partially-open blouse. She was thoughtful that way.
|