My Playboy Story

Back in 2012, I was working as a singing telegram delivery girl, performing ventriloquism, and embarking on a career as a writer. My first book, I Came, I Saw, I Sang: Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl had just been published. It was a wonderful feeling being a published writer. As a youngster who filled yellow legal tablets with words I now cringe at, putting my work on a shelf was an honor and dream come true.

Things were even more incredible as I Came, I Saw, I Sang found shelf space next to Ophira Eisenberg, Junot Diaz, and Anne Frank. After a book signing event at Brown University, I felt like I had arrived as a young writer.

Then a friend suggested I submit my book to Playboy. A male friend who was about 50, he told me they had a lot of wonderful articles. Maybe they could review it. Maybe they could do an interview. Maybe I could even write a piece.

It was a zany idea but I decided, why not?

I googled Playboy enterprises and found only the number for the subscription company. That is when I called 4-11.

Me: Hello, I need the number for Playboy Magazine.

Female Operator: Sure, coming right up.

Me: I am not a model. I am a writer.

(Operator laughs).

Female Operator: Hey, my daughter is trying to write. You need to get published where you can. I will connect you now.

Minutes later, I found myself connected to a nice young man. He spoke clearly and was incredibly friendly. This is how the conversation went.

Travis: Hello, Playboy Enterprises. This is Travis. How can I help you?

Me: Hi, my name is April Brucker. I wrote a book. I was wondering if I could send it to Playboy Magazine to review…..

Travis: What is your book about?

Me: It’s called I Came, I Saw, I Sang, Memoirs of a Singing Telegram Delivery Girl. It’s about my job as a singing telegram delivery girl.

Travis: Really, what is the craziest job you have ever had?

Me: I have been a chicken, gorilla, hot dog, Marilyn Monroe, but I was used as evidence in a court of law once. You see, I was delivering to a guy who I was supposed to apologize to dressed as a dancing heart. I was saying I’m sorry. So I get there and he is good looking. Answers the door. This guy is standing behind him and says oh no. I hope it’s not another guy. So I am singing and the guy I am singing to says, “Do you know what she did?”

Travis: Shit, what did she do?

Me: He says, “It was New Years Eve. She ran over my foot. And as I was screaming in pain, she drove away laughing. Now I am taking her to court tomorrow to sue her for damages.”

Travis: Wow.

Me: I was like, would another song from the I’m Sorry Heart do the trick. He was like, “This will be used as evidence to show of her recklessness.” And I was singing “Goodbye, goodbye!”

Travis: This is awesome. Send me a copy.

Me: Of course. What do you do at Playboy?

Travis: I’m the butler.

Me: So that is what they are calling executive assistants at magazines these days? Or is this just a joke at The Playboy Office?

Travis: No. Like a butler, butler.

Me: You’re a real butler. Like a butler in a mansion? Like the Playboy Mansion?! DID I JUST CALL THE PLAYBOY MANSION!

Travis: Yes m’am.

Me: HOLY SHIT! I JUST CALLED THE PLAYBOY MANSION!

(Travis and I are both laughing).

Travis: So you had no idea?

Me: No, I just said connect me to Playboy Enterprises and here I am. I bet you get  a lot of whackos.

Travis: Yup. And you are one.

Me: Ouch.

Travis: But hey, at least you are interested.

(Travis a random guy)

Travis: Hey, this one actually did something. She wrote a book.

(sounds in background)

Travis: He says he might be able to get you on Playboy Radio. Anyway, we are getting our day started here, but send us a copy of the book, okay?

Me: For sure. What is your address?

(Travis gives me address)

Me: Wow, this is an amazing story. This was amazing.

Travis: Yes it was. Stay safe.

Click

Nothing came of me sending my book to Playboy, but at least I got a good story out of the whole thing. Hef, I called your house and your people were at least cool. There is something to be said for hospitality. RIP Pimp Daddy. 

PS. In recent times I have addressed my sexy side as a female writer and now I wouldn't be so timid about calling if the mansion were still the epicenter of things. So check out my new book April Unwrapped