When I was a kid of about fourteen there was an operator on our local exchange who had the sexiest, sultriest voice I ever heard other than Lauren Bacall (RIP). I would pick up the phone half-praying she would be the one who answered.
Then one day she was pointed out to me as she left work. Alas, she was
old to my callow eyes (maybe 60, which I now consider young stuff), spherical, and ugly enough to stop a sundial.
My dreams shattered, I drowned my sorrows in cheese-and-onion sandwiches and vowed to be a less salacious thinker.
Didn't last, of course.