Sailors Just Want to Have Fun

Sailors Just Want to Have Fun

I had been on leave in the Philippines (PI) for about a week. A couple of buddies and I walked into the Barbary Coast bar. We had been to a couple of bars earlier and were well lubricated. As we were looking for a table, I recognized a girl I had met a few nights earlier, sitting with some friends and man.

I excused myself from my friends and walked over to the table. I said hello to the girl, made pleasantries with the Australian man she was sitting with, and went back to join my friends, at the table they had found.

We had been to several bars earlier, and after about an hour at this one, everyone was well lubricated and having fun. At about midnight, the Australian came over to our table, drunk and mean. He stands over me and accuses me of taking his wallet. He said it had to be me, because he did not talk to anyone else.

As I said, we were all in a good mood, and not looking for trouble. I looked at him and said “I’m sorry if someone took your wallet, but it wasn’t me. I am here on vacation, with plenty of money, and besides, I don’t steal. Have a seat and I will be glad to buy your drinks.”

He picked my San Miguel beer up and poured it into the popcorn I was eating. I was still not upset. I just said “That’s a waste of a good beer.” I then called the waitress for another. I believe they were fifteen cents each, at the time.

The man growled something and reached down, grabbed me by the front of my shirt, and jerked up. When he grabbed me, that’s when I got angry. As he jerked, I came up, and hit him under the chin with the heel of my palm. He fell back, knocking several bottles over.

He came up with a broken bottle and stabbed up with it. I swung my leg away, and the glass caught in the levis leg, making a shallow but bloody cut on my thigh. A friend of mine jumped from behind, grabbing him, while another got the bottle. By this time I had lost all reason, and was going after the guy, while two other friends where holding me back.

A bouncer came walking up to the table. The PI is one of those places where a man can be 5’4” and still be effective at crowd control; he was carrying a sawed off shotgun. My friends let go of me, as he walked up. He said “Is there a problem?” The Australian and my friends all said “No, no problem!”

I was still about to explode, so I stepped up and with every word poked the Aussie in the chest, as he backed across the floor. “You’re damn right there’s a problem! This A-H comes up to our table, starts a fight, and cuts me with a bottle!”

Tom Maguire and Randy Ridgeway grabbed me again. Tom Anderson was close to me going “Ken, he’s got a gun!” I went “I’m not mad at him, I’m mad at this A-H!” as I poked him in the chest again.

Tom Anderson jumped in again and goes “Ken, he’s got a gun. He’s got a BIG gun, and IT’S PROBABLY LOADED!” Sanity came over me, and I told the bouncer everything was fine.

The Aussie went back to his table and we sat down at ours. Thirty minutes went by and the Aussie came back over. He said “I would like to apologize. One of the girl’s found my wallet on the floor. Let me buy you a beer.”

I couldn’t believe it. I probably should have accepted his apology, but I guess I am just not that big a man. I looked down at my leg, with the bandage around the cut. I told him to keep his beer, and just go back to his table. I have too many scars, which originated in bars, after midnight. Thank God I lived long enough to get past that stage.

Every once in a while I still chuckle when I remember Tom’s face and the words “He’s got a gun. He’s got a BIG gun, and IT’S PROBABLY LOADED!”