I was a technical supply sergeant in Texas. Well. that was one of my assignments there at Fort Hood, and true to form, there were a lot of black people in supply. You know, it’s an army stereotype, but sometimes there are reasons for stereotypes, like, they are true. So there I was, one of only two white guys in the section, and I was a supervisor. It all had to do with rank. I was an E-5, and that put me as a squad leader. But according to the men, I was also one of the coolest nco’s.
That only meant I wasn’t a pain in the ass. If they did their jobs, I was willing to not give them bullshit stuff to do to fill time. It worked out all around. If something had to be done quickly, they were willing to jump to make it happen, because they knew I didn’t make shit up.
So Sammy, the other white meat, invites me to a party at his apartment. Sam is a white guy only in the fact that he is white. Otherwise, if you heard him on the phone you’d think he was black. His music was rap and funk. He dressed hip hop or something. You might say he was a wanna be, but it was just who he was. So I go to his party and he, his wife and I are the only white people there. No big deal, I know most of the people, and I can hang.
Jungle Fever
So I start rapping to this cute girl who was smiling at me. Beautiful wide smile. That I remember. I was single at the time with no potential girlfriend, even, so I start hitting on her and we pair up for the party. After a couple hours she tells me she has to go. She has to be at work. So I am thinking that is sort of weird, but whatever. And then she asks if I can give her a ride home to change and then I can take her to work. I’m thinking, OK, sounds reasonable to me.
So we’re driving and she tells me she works at a strip club. I am sorta shocked, but still thinking, OK. She tells me I can come in and watch and when she’s done we can do somewhere together. Still sounds like a pretty good plan to me. You don’t have to be a ho to be a stripper, so she could still be legit.She dances and I get to see all of her stuff. It’s a total nude type joint, so I get the whole enchilada. no wait, she’s not spanish. I see all. She’s real curvy, tits and ass, as I like ‘em. But she’s also a bit wobbly on her feet and mostly just looking at me, not any other customers.
After that one dance the manager comes up to me and says she’s too drunk to dance and can I take her home. I feel sort of responsible, so I agree. But she wants to go to a hotel, instead of going home. This all still sounds reasonable to me. She wanted to hook up way back at the party before she was drinking, so I know it’s not just the whiskey talking. So we go to a hotel, sign in, mr and mrs smith. The desk clerk doesn’t bat an eye.
And we get it on. About four in the morning I wake up and think to myself, what the fuck am I doing? I don’t even really know this woman. She’s a stripper and obviously not particularly picky about sex partners. I am seriously having second thoughts about a continued conversation. She’s still asleep. So I get dressed and leave. OK, yeah, it’s not especially noble to fuck and run, but sometimes it seems like the best course of action.
I get in my samurai and see a shoe on the passenger floor. Shit. I have locked myself out of the room. What to do? Well, I am not a total shit, so I put the shoe in front of the door of the room. She’ll find it there, I am sure. And I drive home. The next morning I go out to my car to get something, and viola, there’s the other shoe. Now I feel really bad. I can picture her calling someone to drive her home and she only has one shoe.
I am also expecting a call or something, or at least Sammy telling me, oh, sarge, that girl is pissed off at you, etc. So I approach Sam and this other dude, Groomes, and they are all up in my face giving me a rash of shit about making out with that girl and taking her home, typical guy stuff, and it turns out they didn’t even know who she was. They thought she came with me, but apparently must have been a friend of a friend or something. so I never heard anything about it again. Which also seems odd. Don’t you think she would have been looking to bust me for my really piss poor behavior, or maybe she just really didn’t remember much of the night, or didn’t want to look like some skanky ho. I don’t know, but I do know it was a wild crazy night.
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An addition to the lexicon.
Sand Shark – a black girl who likes white guys
Mud Shark – a white girl who likes black guys
I dunno, those just popped into my mind as sayings from that era of my life.
one that just came up a few weeks ago, a guy I just recently met asked someone if a particular girl had yerrow fever. He is Asian and knew that some white girls liked Asian guys. I thought the yerrow fever thing was funny. If I said it, it would probably be racist, but since he said it, it’s ok. Somehow that doesn’t seem right, but it is.
