mlah The “culture” that has evolved here isn’t conducive to sissies

July 25, 2005

Vodka

Filed under: Sea Stories — mlah @ 10:04 pm

so we had this little tradition in rota.

sometimes, every couple of months or so, we would have what we liked to call a little pub crawl. my first tour, we sort of had a pub crawl every night. but when slick willie started ‘right sizing’ the navy, the american population in rota was cut pretty much in half. but the optempo stayed the same or even increased.

so the apparent effect was to cut the sailors in rota, not deployed to ships, by about two thirds.

that sucked ass.

so we had to launch pub crawls in order to have a large enough crowd to have a good time.

this was no normal pub crawl. some marine named scott actually made t-shirts, and i still have mine. i made fliers for him to hand out in advance, complete with estimated times in which bar. scott also had a referee’s whistle, which he would use to give the 2 minute warning. he would just give a really nice whistle, and in two minutes, we would all walk out the door.

the bar owners didn’t like that. one bar owner actually tried to take it from him.

worked like a champ. we had a huge crowd.

rules are,

must wear a white t-shirt, and get an employee in each bar to sign your shirt. must drink at least one complete drink in each bar.

so a whole slew of us started uptown at ‘bennie’s’. i let carmen make my drinks, and then dance for me. i miss carmen. she signed my shirt too.

we walked across the street to guays, which was a craphole at the time, and then went next door to california’s. and it was in slightly better shape, but still a craphole.

nothing really major happened in these bars as we were just getting ‘warmed up’. many of us had warmed up at home, but some had not.

we walked down the street and had to avoid the annoying gypsies who begged on the way to jukebox. they pretty much annoyed us the rest of the night at this point.

we headed from jukebox to guns n roses. gnr was run by this bodybuilder french chick. she was around 60. and trying to stay 15.

i had to avoid the moroccan girls here, as i had had troubles with them in the past.

one guy named steve espinosa got a plastic cup, some cardboard and wrote ‘ayudame!’ on it and just begged for drinks from us the rest of the night. classic.

we stopped in led zeppelin’s. next door to gnr. the guy who ran this bar and the lady who ran gnr were divorced, and hated each other.

we just got beer. people were drunk and having a good time by now. i got to outline my hands on barbara wykopf’s chest at this point. she looked very good. it was double bonus since i was avoiding this hideous sleazebag named lisa.

we stopped at a new little spanish bar on the way ‘downtown’. all of the spanish just looked at us in awe. we stayed 15 minutes and moved on.

couple of more bars…. and we were really trashed. and in bar trianas. mainly spanish bar. spanish 13-17 year olds. mainly, marines would hang out here and try to hit on little spanish girls.

we had a drink.

but there was trouble.

they were having a vodka promotion.

long way to get to the title huh?

i don’t remember what brand of vodka. but if you bought a shot, you laid on the bar and they poured it into your mouth. then they gave you a scartch off, good for various prizes. hats, t-shirts, pens, shot glasses and the like. my best friend, who i will not name, but his initials are JASON GWYNN, absolutely had to have this stupid little blinking thing you pinned on your shirt.

it took him 6 shots.

did you count the bars we had already been to? we walked across the street to la abadia and i hit on some spanis girls. after crashing and burning, and convincing brockington that he was NOT sexual chocolate, like in coming to america, we moved to ‘safe’ irish bar. it was here that it happened.

jason had to step away from the bar. he was still leaning on it though. the bartender pointe dhim out. i tried to get jason to hurry outside, but it was too late.

jay blew chow all over my feet.

i was wearing teva’s.

the bartender mopped it up. and laughed as he mopped my feet. i shook his hand and told him, me llamo jesse swanson, we shared a drink and a laugh while jason enjoyed some water.

i had to take jay home at that point.

1 Comment »

  1. why’d you name your lama jesse swanson?

    Comment by yup — July 26, 2005 @ 3:01 am

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