I figure ol’ Hephaestus for a typewriter man. In another time, he might have made a fine repairman of all things bent and broken, an artist in iron and steel. Why, there’s no telling what kind of machines we’d be knocking on.
Maybe he needed a little anger management training. Maybe he wouldn’t have been quite prepared for the women’s movement. I’ll bet he could fix fix a few of my typewriters, though. There’s that.
And Aphrodite? She could hold her own.