RACY STORIES
#1
There was a late night flight from Los Angeles to Baltimore. In the cabin there
was almost a full load of very drowsy passengers. Someone had evidentially strongly
offended a stewardess, and I was acting as a sounding board. During her tirade
she complained that men were unable to tell the difference between nice girls
and other girls and act accordingly. In my long life this issue had been raised
before, but I felt that having flown a couple of years she might have reached
more sensible and less black and white conclusions. Women come in all shades
of gray.
It was a gloves off discussion and she did not care how she was revealing herself.
I began to worry that even over the roar of the motors, we might be overheard.
At this point she lashed out with,"If that is all a man is interested in, why
doesn't he go out and buy a girl." The doctor in the third seat was coming to
life. "Young lady", he said. "you might as well ask a fisherman why he doesn't
go to a fish market."
#2
It was the morning of Nixon's first inauguration and all the civil servants
in Washington had the day off. I was not so lucky. I had been summoned to a
meeting at Lockheed in Plainfield, New Jersey by a program manager from Frankford
Arsenal to defend an equipment I had designed and was currently being built
by David Leeson's California Microwave company. Technically the program manager
was badly outgunned - his expertise was as a saxophone player and his technical
assistant had run a one man radio repair shop. Only their political competence
was superb. No matter, I had arisen before daybreak and was waiting with a tired
and dowdy group of men for Eastern's Newark Shuttle. Very much out of place
was a young woman in a karakul coat with a matching karakul tam. She had on
pancake makeup and her eyelashes were much extended. Clearly there was a story
and it came out even before we boarded the plane.
She had come down with a minor Republican bigwig to witness the inauguration
and to go to one of the inaugural balls that night. The separate room she had
been promised did not materialize, and after a very trying night, she was headed
home to New Jersey - her ball gown still packed in it's tissue paper.
Oddly enough I have never told this story to a woman without getting the comment.
"I would have gone."
A Dirty Story
In January of 1942 there was a two month course in photographic interpretation
at the Anacostia Naval Air Station. Oddly, to encourage bonding each of the
twenty students was required to submit a dirty story. Tailhook had precedents.
From somewhere I remembered this one.
A very keyed up man entered a brothel and insisted that the young whore who
greeted him do it his way. She was leery and felt it best to pass him to an
older inmate. That one did not want to cope and suggested that he speak to the
madame who had seen everything. "Now Sir," the madame asked, "just what is your
way." "On Credit" .
A Story on Memory Loss
My younger brother had a favorite story about three Indians, who were discussing
how age had lessened their lives. Fleet Foot said "I just don't have the wind,
I cannot run fast enough to get near an antelope to get a shot." Eagle Eye said
"It's my eyes, I can hear them out there , but I can't see them." Mighty Bull
spoke up. " My eyes are good and so is my wind, I even still have a strong bow
arm. My problem is my memory. This morning over in my teepee I was getting out
of my tub and my squaw looked me over and she said, "Mighty Bull you've had
it" and I couldn't remember whether I had or hadn't.