My lovely caller -- Joyce Holland was her name -- had previously done three filmed commercials for ZING, and this evening, the fourth, a super production, had been filmed at the home of Louis Thor. The water in Thor's big swimming pool had been covered with a blanket of thick, foamy soapsuds -- fashioned, of course, from ZING -- Joyce had dived from the board into the pool, then swirled and cavorted in her luxurious ``bath'' while cameras rolled. The finished -- and drastically cut -- product would begin with a hazy longshot of Joyce entering the suds, then bursting above the pool's surface clad in layers of lavender lather, and I had a hunch this item was going to sell tons and tons of soap; even to clean men and boys.

Joyce went on, ``When we'd finished, Lou -- Mr. Thor -- asked me to stay a little longer. He wanted a few stills for magazine ads, he said. Everybody left and I stayed in the pool, then Lou came back alone and leaped into the pool too. And he didn't have any clothes on.''

``He didn't!''

``Yes, he didn't. Did, I mean.'' She paused. ``Did leap into the pool, and didn't have anything on. Anyway, it was evident what he had in mind.''

``You got away, didn't you?''

``Yes. He caught up with me once and grabbed me, but I was all covered with ZING -- it's very slippery, you know.''

``I didn't know. I wouldn't have the stuff in the house. But I'm pleased to hear --.''