Respect the Bunny

Yes, may I please have a virgin shirley temple?

Fluffy tails and satin ears people. 

Try to imagine me and my bad nine-year old self sportin’ the kneesocks and rocking the wool skirt while remaining prostrate on my knees for endless hours during the fucking sixteen hour burden of the incense covered fog of the stations of the cross. Lesser Catholics passing out from hunger thirst and whatever chemicals were in that stupid incense dispenser on a chain the priest was waving all over the  place. 

Emerging feeling righteous, pious and good I hoofed it home in time to pack my bags for a weekend trip to Vernon Valley Great Gorge. Not just to ski, but to be served a virgin shirley temple by a pretty girl in ears and a tail all while she smiled and did the “bunny dip”. 

No touching please. 

Sometimes I wonder about the number of strange ill-fitting puzzle pieces  that have to come together to complete a person. You would never imagine that such a good church going group like ourselves were Gold Key carrying members of the Playboy Club. They were swanky, sophisticated and sexual. Although I didn’t really get the sexual part yet. All I knew was that the pretty colored outfits, smiling girls,  bunny tails and boobies were like a dream come true. The most successful nightclub chain in history had me hook line and sinker. 

OURS was gold.

In the 70’s Hugh built the EPIC Playboy Club Hotel in Vernon Valley Great Gorge (northern NJ). You could ski AND grope bunnies on the slopes before returning to your sprawling refuge to look at MORE bunnies inside. To enter you had to have a special key card (which of course we did) and you were treated like Playboy royalty. 

I remember scrubbing up in the shower after skiing and hitting the indoor pool and being thrilled by the prospect of dressing  to the nines and going to dinner. The girls were so kind to me and asked me if I wanted to be a playboy bunny when I grew up. Yes, I nodded eagerly I sure as hell did. 

I mourned the demise of these glorious hangouts in the mid eighties and I still have the phrase “visit the grotto” on my bucket list to this day. This bizarre square peg in the round holes of my catholic upbringing never bothered me. I thought it was as right as rain. 

So say what you want about the objectification of women and deny you spent any time watching The Girls Next Door (because admit it, even if you didn’t want to watch it, you couldn’t look away) but you’ve got to love the deep rich satin feel and color of each outfit and the lush white tail that framed a quickly sashaying ass on its way to get your drink. 

And if you can’t get behind that, well then, I can’t party with you.

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19 Comments

Filed under catholics doing a fairly bad job, kids who love the playboy club, playboy club hotel, playboy clubs, vernon valley great gorge

19 responses to “Respect the Bunny

  1. bunnies aren’t just any woman, they’re uber hotties. i can’t take my off eyes off them. beauty is captivating. and hell if you’ve got it, get paid for it. i would. all this thinking for a living is overrated.

    i also wouldn’t mind partying in a velvet smoking jacket. it just screams hedonism.

    • dufmanno

      I guess the reason I’m so stuck in the late 70’s and 80’s is I tend to coat all experiences with pixie dust, including the Playboy case scenario.
      Oui and Hustler just didn’t do it as well.

  2. This is our destiny. I’ll play the part of the Hef. Can someone dash over there and get me more cognac?

    I love overkill. Who says how much is too much? Who gave them authority? As long as you’re not hurting anyone, do what suits you, right?

    This sounds well-suiting, indeed.

    • dufmanno

      My feminist friends are aghast and are fitting me for a muzzle and more comfortable shoes. Although I don’t know what shoes are more comfortable than two year old Converse.
      I really DID love the bunnies. I found them oddly soothing. Along with all the guys who were sporting gold medallions and visible chest hair.

  3. Yes, I watched The Girls Next Door when Holly was on and found it to be strangely classy. I found myself wanting to be a bunny. I also read PlayBoy. It’s definitely one of the better magazines out there.

  4. I knew a woman who worked at one of the Playboy Club’s, I believe it was in Chicago. This woman was magical. She was grace in motion. Beautiful, elegant, and an absolute class act. She worked there back in the mid 70’s, I believe. I admired her immensely. Not only for having been a bunny, which did add to it, but her presence in a room was incredible. I have a feeling these women were in a whole different realm. I know she certainly was on a different level. She also had a different air about her when she spoke of her times there. She had truly loved the experience. It isn’t exploitation if the woman comes out of it stronger and had a wonderful experience. Just sayin’.

  5. Ry Sal

    Priests read playboy. I have intricate knowledge of this that I can’t reveal, but it’s very true. I think your experience is cool! And bravo to your parents for walking that thin line with you by their sides!

    • dufmanno

      What knowledge? Now I’m going to be up all night wondering when you had the occasion to catch Father What a Waste checking out the centerfold. You weren’t locked in the rectory hope chest after trying to crack a Nancy Drew type mystery about a missing chalice were you?

      • Ry Sal

        Wow, my comment was really cryptic! Sorry about that. I worked in the rectory for a few years as a receptionist during high school.. Sorted mail, took calls… Answered questions. Saw nothing scandalous, but realized how ordinary everything was…

  6. Remember “It’s a Living”? Loved that show. We didn’t have Playboy clubs in Utah, so it was as close as I got…

    • dufmanno

      I DO remember it! Wasn’t it Ann Jillian who had the main role? Nevermind, I still can’t believe I can recall this.

  7. Oh yes, respect the bunny! They are alive and well in Asia. My dad has a dozen polo shirts with the bunny emblem on them and he was never attacked to any feminist either. Do you know they still sell the Playboy merchandise? I walked by a store in downtown Chicago and lo and behold, Asian tourist inside only. LOL

    • dufmanno

      Chicago is where it ALL started. I think the business headquarters are still there if I’m not mistaken. If I were able to get around to it (my to do list is a little long right now) I would want the bunny ears

  8. Ugh. Ok. Spelling and grammar quit on me today also.

    • dufmanno

      That anti grammar and spelling movement people keep mentioning to me is sounding rather good right about now. I like to refer to my style as ” throwing all the rules out the window” and pretend that my deficiency in this area is on purpose.

  9. Pingback: Cool Shit 3 — « Fierce, Freethinking Fatties

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