During the ’70s, a father persuades his daughter, a college-age feminist, to meet him at the Playboy Club:
“My conversation with my father been taking place on the hall phone in my dorm, Chapin Hall, which happened to be an all-women’s residence. Normally, the girls gave whoever was on the phone a lot of space, but with ‘Playboy Club’ and ‘Hugh Hefner’ springing out of the conversation like champagne corks, I attracted a crowd, a sort of Greek chorus in bathrobes and curlers. Jan, always a cut up, made bunny ears behind Jill. Linda, the biggest women’s libber on campus, raised the power salute. Karen and Nancy listened as they munched from a freshly popped bowl of popcorn. I was militant to begin with, but the more the women watched, the more emphatic my advocacy became.
“‘Dad,’ I tried to bargain, ‘why don’t you go to the Playboy Club with your friends, and I’ll meet you for dinner afterward.’”
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