The Gray Flannel Beachcombers
March, 1957
Robert Caldwell, 27, college graduate, Navy veteran (nickname: Bullseye), well-paid junior account executive at a large Madison Avenue advertising agency, had an hallucination while returning to New York on a train. He was pooped. He had seen five accounts in four days on a tight schedule. Two nights he had drunk too much. His throat was sore, both from smoking and from the beginnings, he thought, of his second cold of the winter. He was looking dully out of the train window at the industrial sl...
