MY 4th OF JULY STORY (This is a no Shitter)
Posted: Fri Jul 01, 2011 7:01 pmIn my Twenties, I had joined the Navy. One year we pulled into Mumbai (Back then it was called Bombay) . Two very profound events happened for me. One was the an opportunity, which I seized, to represent my nation in a most "fly" way... The other was the Bollywood pass I made at a Spanish Ambassador's daughter.
The FLY Way:
I had been invited to what amounted to an urban country club, in the heart of the city of Bombay. I was ordered to be in my dress -whites uniform. On that afternoon, we were served lunch, and I was allowed to mill about and mingle with the regular members. On deck, near the main pool, I spotted a well-dressed young gentleman at a patio table, playing a game of back-gammon against some young, very attractive bikini-clad ladies. One girl on each arm. It was like being in a James Bond moment. As I walked past their table, the young man blurted out, "Whut da hell are the Yanks doin ere?" I stopped, and turned to look at him... Smiling, I said, Afternoon ladies, Sir.... I see you fancy your self a gammon player. And it appears you are on holiday, yes?" The young man nodded, the ladies did not make any eye contact. He replied back, "Finishing up my final semester at Oxford" I said, "Very impressive. Tell me, how well do you rate yourself at this game?" The young man boasted, "I've been winning all bloody morning...". I responded back, "Perhaps you'd like some challenge?... " The young man took a moment, looked up at me, and said, "Tell ye whut....best two outta three , losah buys the drinks." I contemplated for a moment. (Now, What he did not realize was that I was a back-gammon champion , replete with prize money winnings of the past.) So, I asked him, " Does that include drinks for the winners' friends?" The young man scoffed and chuckled. Then he said, "Sure man, what evah punishment you prefer...it all the same to me." He grinned.
We proceeded to play. Three for three, I beat him down like an oriental rug. When it was over, I smiled, leaned across the board toward him, looked him in the eye and said: "Lets not forget mate, us 'YANKS' also kicked yer arse in the revolution..."
Then I proceeded to call in about 24 of my ship-mates, and we drank that night for free.
The BOLLYWOOD PASS
Upon the brutal, but civil shakedown of the young British preppie, I learned that a particular young Spanish lady had been eyeballing the event. She came up to me later that evening and introduced herself... (The name escapes me today) . She was fairly attractive and very social toward me. It turned out that the fella I embarrassed had a low reputation in those circles... I seemed to have been her Popeye, quelling a lesser Bluto. As such, she invited me to have dinner the following evening, in her "penthouse'. ( compliments of mum & dad. Dad was a Spanish Ambassador to India at that time. ) My instructions were to meet her at the club house around 5pm,. We would have drinks until about 7, and then walk down two blocks to her building. One very special instruction (by her) was that I had to stay about 15 paces behind her during the walk. I asked her why I should do this. Her response was: "I cannot be seen 'with' you , an American Sailor. The streets have eyes...and people talk, and reputations become fragile.." Naturally, I felt offended by the whole notion. If had not been for her general charm and friendliness, I might have told her that I change my mind about dinner (You never curse at diplomats and their kin..its just bad taste and bad form). We proceeded to have dinner. Her folks were wonderful people and the mom was an outstanding cook... (told the kitchen staff to take the day off). We truly enjoyed the whole evening... Then it came time for me to leave. The girl escorted me to the lobby... We stepped outside the entrance of the building...it was @11:30
I turned to her ti "shake" her hand (by her request). As I took her hand, i pulled her in toward me and I planted the wettest, sloppiest, sensuously romantic kiss that young lady had ever experienced... She froze, stunned, eyes half closed... and I whispered into her ear... "Just a little something we Americans call 'dessert' "...
Well, she did not frown or show contempt by it... I thanked her for the evening and bid her a good night, did an about face, walked away, and left her leaning in the door....
The FLY Way:
I had been invited to what amounted to an urban country club, in the heart of the city of Bombay. I was ordered to be in my dress -whites uniform. On that afternoon, we were served lunch, and I was allowed to mill about and mingle with the regular members. On deck, near the main pool, I spotted a well-dressed young gentleman at a patio table, playing a game of back-gammon against some young, very attractive bikini-clad ladies. One girl on each arm. It was like being in a James Bond moment. As I walked past their table, the young man blurted out, "Whut da hell are the Yanks doin ere?" I stopped, and turned to look at him... Smiling, I said, Afternoon ladies, Sir.... I see you fancy your self a gammon player. And it appears you are on holiday, yes?" The young man nodded, the ladies did not make any eye contact. He replied back, "Finishing up my final semester at Oxford" I said, "Very impressive. Tell me, how well do you rate yourself at this game?" The young man boasted, "I've been winning all bloody morning...". I responded back, "Perhaps you'd like some challenge?... " The young man took a moment, looked up at me, and said, "Tell ye whut....best two outta three , losah buys the drinks." I contemplated for a moment. (Now, What he did not realize was that I was a back-gammon champion , replete with prize money winnings of the past.) So, I asked him, " Does that include drinks for the winners' friends?" The young man scoffed and chuckled. Then he said, "Sure man, what evah punishment you prefer...it all the same to me." He grinned.
We proceeded to play. Three for three, I beat him down like an oriental rug. When it was over, I smiled, leaned across the board toward him, looked him in the eye and said: "Lets not forget mate, us 'YANKS' also kicked yer arse in the revolution..."
Then I proceeded to call in about 24 of my ship-mates, and we drank that night for free.
The BOLLYWOOD PASS
Upon the brutal, but civil shakedown of the young British preppie, I learned that a particular young Spanish lady had been eyeballing the event. She came up to me later that evening and introduced herself... (The name escapes me today) . She was fairly attractive and very social toward me. It turned out that the fella I embarrassed had a low reputation in those circles... I seemed to have been her Popeye, quelling a lesser Bluto. As such, she invited me to have dinner the following evening, in her "penthouse'. ( compliments of mum & dad. Dad was a Spanish Ambassador to India at that time. ) My instructions were to meet her at the club house around 5pm,. We would have drinks until about 7, and then walk down two blocks to her building. One very special instruction (by her) was that I had to stay about 15 paces behind her during the walk. I asked her why I should do this. Her response was: "I cannot be seen 'with' you , an American Sailor. The streets have eyes...and people talk, and reputations become fragile.." Naturally, I felt offended by the whole notion. If had not been for her general charm and friendliness, I might have told her that I change my mind about dinner (You never curse at diplomats and their kin..its just bad taste and bad form). We proceeded to have dinner. Her folks were wonderful people and the mom was an outstanding cook... (told the kitchen staff to take the day off). We truly enjoyed the whole evening... Then it came time for me to leave. The girl escorted me to the lobby... We stepped outside the entrance of the building...it was @11:30
I turned to her ti "shake" her hand (by her request). As I took her hand, i pulled her in toward me and I planted the wettest, sloppiest, sensuously romantic kiss that young lady had ever experienced... She froze, stunned, eyes half closed... and I whispered into her ear... "Just a little something we Americans call 'dessert' "...
Well, she did not frown or show contempt by it... I thanked her for the evening and bid her a good night, did an about face, walked away, and left her leaning in the door....
