After I made that last post it was time to go out jogging for a while before lunch. I had made it about a half a mile and apparently the jogging jogged an old memory lose.
I happen to have met the women in the video back in January of 1971. I was in the Panama Canal Zone attending Jungle School for three weeks. There I learned four important facts of life.
First, always sit on the back row of the bleachers and don’t ever sit on the front row of the bleachers for the Class on edible plants and animals.
Second, not even an [censored] of whom I had promised to beat the sh1t out of was tough enough to bite through the neck skin of a chicken and the chicken does not like to have anybody biting on its head. But I had a good laugh and decided he had got what he had coming to him.
Third, is that Panama City, Panama was correctly known as a “den of iniquity” and a “hellhole of sin”.
Fourth is that I am not the only person in the world named “Bob”.
So anyway after a couple of weeks running around the jungles of Panama building rope bridges and biting chickens we had Sunday off. My buddy and three new friends were either married or religious and were not interested in determining whether all of the warnings of muggings and venereal disease were true so they decided to sleep in and then go to church services. I got dressed up in my bell bottom hip hugger cords and a shirt and headed off alone to see the sights of the den of iniquity. Onto the train I got and when it got to Panama City I got off the train. I didn’t have a clue where to go nor what to do so I wandered around for a while and it seemed like on every block were one or two cantinas with the doors open and no lights on and mostly empty. Of course it was something like 2:00 on Sunday afternoon so it was not exactly surprising that places were deserted. After a while I decided that this wandering around was really boring and I needed something to eat and went into one of the cantinas. There was nothing inside and they had nothing to eat so I wandered around and found a bigger one and went in. There were three or four people in there and they are all sitting at the same table so I go up and sit at the bar and order a beer and some chips. The beer was just about as bad as any I have ever had but I was hungry and thirsty so I was making do with what was in front of me. I look up and the black haired woman who had been at the table with the other people is sitting down next to me. She asks me in her Spanish accent what my name is and I say “Bob”, where upon she laughs and swings around on the bar stool and pulls her skirt up. There on the inside of her left thigh was a tattoo that said “Bob”. Well being out of the backwoods of Alabama and a good Southern Baptist this was just the strangest thing I had ever seen in the world. Then she says to me that she has another tattoo but she can’t show it to me in the cantina and if I would like to see it we can go upstairs to her room.
The Smokin Fur Rifle Club