Daniel Went Down to The Waterfront to Pick Up Some Navy Sailors, Even Though He’s Not Gay

He’s not even bi-curious, but he is a joiner and everyone was talking about the sailors so, you know. He couldn’t help himself.

“There’s like a million of them, all pressed and clean, with big bulging muscles and they’re just here for a few days,” this woman in his office had told him. “They walk right off the Navy boats and BAM! They’re everywhere. They dock here for the Rose Festival.” Daniel was new in town but he knew what she was talking about. The Rose Festival was a very popular thing with parades, rickety fun-rides, some kind of Local Princess contest, and lots and lots of rain. Sometimes it rained really hard, so hard that it overwhelmed the city’s sewer system and caused raw sewage to overflow into the river. That’s the river that the sailors float in on.

“And women go down there to look at them or something?”

“They do more than look at them, if you know what I mean,” and then she blushed, so he did know what she meant. He only worked in the mailroom but that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand when someone was insinuating the availability of free, easy sex. Granted, he didn’t really think through the whole not-gay thing, but still. Easy sex.

The next day was Friday, the first day of the sailor invasion, and Daniel came to work prepared. Ten minutes before his lunch break, he put on his most patriotic accessory – a Davy Crockett coonskin cap he bought at the Alamo – and started practicing his pickup lines. At exactly noon, he walked outside and made a line for the first nineteen year-old he saw in poofy pants. That kid turned out to be a hippie trying to get some hacky sack going, so Daniel walked a little further and found an actual sailor sitting on a street bench. He was reading Maxim Magazine, a very sexy magazine.

“Hey guy, come here often?”

“Not really,” the sailor mumbled without looking away from Jessica Alba’s chachabingos. This was going to be tricky.

Daniel crossed the street and walked into a corner grocery with a few sailors milling around inside. He strolled around nonchalantly until one of them stopped near him, a short pimply kid with a tattoo of the Georgia state flag on his forearm.

“Sailor, you look like you cou-

“Hey, do ya’ll got any Yoo-hoo chocolate drinks?”

And before Daniel could respond, another sailor rounded the corner and launched a pack of frosted Donettes at the kid from Georgia. The package broke open and tiny donuts were everywhere, dusting the raccoon tail of Daniel’s hat with a fine coat of powdered sugar. The kid from Georgia was in full pursuit of his attacker and Daniel decided to head back outside. He walked three blocks and found two older, dark haired sailors waiting to cross the street. They looked like they might be officers.

“Hey fellas, looking for a good time?”

“Yeah, where are all the goddamn women in this town?” one of them said while the other laughed and punched him in the shoulder. Daniel laughed too and wondered if maybe they were together. The light turned green and as they started to walk away, Daniel could hear them saying something about his coonskin cap. Progress.

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