Late Night TV Commercial
By David L Maurer
Gentlemen over 70! Does this apply to you?
As you advance in age, do you find that you’re gradually attracting less and less attention from the ladies?
Are the sexual urges still lingering, but the ladies are not?
Are the ladies being lured away from mature men like you . . . by immature men in their 60’s?
Do you find that maintaining that 34 inch belt you wore when you were 30 . . . and pushing it lower . . . is no longer doing it for the ladies?
Why is this, you ask? Well, my friend, . . . you’ve lost your confidence.
You ask why isn’t there something out there to draw the attention of the ladies and give you that boost of confidence you somehow lost?
Sweeping the hair from the back to the front just doesn’t do it, am I right?
I know what you’re thinking — there isn’t anything out there that’ll get attention from ladies for a 70 year old man.
Well, if that’s what you’re thinking, you would be wrong. Stay with me now.
After months of research, this think-tank of 70+ year old men, minds as sharp as sledge hammers, hit on just the right combination to solve your problem.
My friends, the answer is in this bag.
You’re going to be amazed at how simple this is. You’ll slap your palm to your temple and exclaim, “Why didn’t I think of this?”
The time is now to swallow your pride, old buddy, and follow the instructions that come with this amazing tool.
(Pull 8 inch sausage from the bag and hold up)
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking.
“What in God’s almighty world does that have to do with my problem?” Am I right?
“And, how would I use it?”
Guys, it comes with instructions. Here’s what you do. Stay with me on this. I’ll go slow.
You take this big sausage in your hand. You stand in front of a full-body mirror. Are you still with me so far?
You simply slide this big sausage down the front of your pants…….. Right down the front. . . . Yeah, you heard me. Get it into position just right…….. Maneuver it around.
You’ll catch on. Let me know if I need to repeat any of this.
You stand in front of that mirror and look at yourself. Take it in, buddy…….. See the bulge? . . . Yeah, you do. Nice bulge at the zipper? . . . Look closer. Take your time. Most of you will see it right away.
And, I want you to notice one other thing……. See that smile creeping over your face?
That’s right, dude, that’s a smile of confidence…….. Savor the feeling. That feeling doesn’t come often after 70.
But, wait! This gets better. I’m so excited about this I can hardly hold back! You’re feeling like you’re ready to face the ladies, right? Let me tell you, man, you walk into a night spot in The Villages, and nobody’s gonna be looking at that gray hair. The wrinkles evaporate because, here’s the thing – nobody’s looking at your face.
Okay, friend, you are ready? Ready to hit those Villages sports and karaoke bars? Pick out one you haven’t been to for a while.
Now, when you enter, swing the door wide, fake stubbing your toe or something. Draw a little attention to yourself. Feel confident. Pal, you’re packin’ the big sausage, and it’s right where it needs to be.
I think you’re starting to get the picture, right?
Sort of pause. Look around, size the place up, like you’re, you know, checking out the action tonight.Maybe look at your watch.
Then, you saunter, yeah, I mean saunter across the room with a cool smile. Snap your fingers to the music or something. You with me on this? Practice at home.
Pretend you don’t notice the 50 and 60 year old ladies looking……. I mean looking.
They’re looking close, buddy. Keep eyes straight ahead. Don’t look at them back. Just know they’re lookin’, man. Be nonchalant……………………………………………………………………….. Getting the picture?
Slap a five-dollar bill on the bar, and tell the bar-keeper to keep the change. Let people know you got the cash. See? Yell out a drink order to the bar-keeper, something sexy, like, I don’t know, Sex-On-The-Beach. Yell loudly so women around can hear. Then, smile and squint a little as you turn toward the crowd.
Okay, here’s a move that’ll feel uncomfortable at first, but you’ll thank me. You rotate, facing out, elbows on the bar, you know, body kind of arched backward.
You’re facing out to the crowd, see? Maybe smile and give a little wave to an imaginary friend in the back.They won’t know there’s nobody there. See how this is all fitting together? I’m telling you right now — nobody’s noticing any wrinkles, guy.
If you see a couple of ladies coming your way, whispering to each other, give ‘em a little smile and slightly nod your head, like you’re saying, “Yes, I am a stud.”
Fake a cough or something. Gaze up at the ceiling, like you don’t know they’re watching. Then, elbowsback a little farther, but not enough to lose your balance, and let your squinting eyes scan the room.
Man, you just know they’re looking at you. You, dude. I’m talking the young ones in their 60’s. . . . Drink it in, guy. This is your time………………………………………………………………………….. Drink … it … in.
Don’t be surprised if you hear a couple of men in their 60’s at the bar saying, “There’s a man with confidence!”
Okay, I know what you’re thinking. What if somebody calls my bluff? Yeah, I hear that all the time.
But, just stop and think now. Do you really think somebody’s going to walk up to you and say, “Excuse me, but have you got a big sausage in your pants?”
I … don’t … think … so.
And look, even if somebody did, by some remote chance, ask that question, here’s your response. Look like you’re working hard to conceal your pride and say with a sly smile, “Why thank you very much.”
David Maurer wrote a short story in fifth grade about a boy in the snow in a timber attacked by a cougar. He killed the cougar with a pocketknife.
As a teenager, he wrote about a frail kitten with pink eye, in a barn on a Midwest winter night. She waited for the boy to finish milking and pour some into a pan. The weak kitten, pushed aside by stronger cats, afterward, could only shiver as it licked the empty, moist pan.
Several of Dave’s stories or monologues appeared in a high school publication. His first novel began in college but wasn’t completed until retirement. Following a master’s degree and a career in structural engineering, he now pursues his earlier obsession.
He’s had six short stories and one novel published, with his objective to impact the emotions of the reader — funny, sad, happy, gratifying, or frightening.
Not speaking for myself, but in full sympathy with the plight of the disenfranchised, over 70 male, I found the story Uplifting in so many ways. Simple solution to a complex problem.
Bravo, David.
Thoroughly impractical.
Can you imagine the stench after a few hours of incubating a garlic-laden kielbasa in the sweaty, 98.6 F environment of one’s crotch? I believe the effluvium would counteract the eroticism.
But what do I know?
Hilarious story, David, and well written. I do agree with Michael Brodin. Isn’t it how the phrase, “Put a sock in it,” came about?
Maybe it was “Put a sock ON it.”
Years ago on a river cruise in Europe, an accordion player stood by our table to play. Every time I looked up from my plate, my eyes were at his crotch level and I knew for sure it was an absolutely phony sock there!
David’s article is very funny!
All I can say is it worked for me. Well, my elbows did slip off the bar — bumped the lady on the bar stool next to me. She was ready to chastise me — until she glanced downward. I shrugged and said sheepishly, “Damn thing throws me off balance sometimes.” Thanks for the comments. DAVE