{For some reason my head is off into memories lately, things I have not even thought about for years.
I do that from time to time, so instead of making up crap to write and post I just jot down some crap that really happened.
This is one of those. There is a lead in here to set the time and place, then I get to the story.
This would probably fit in a couple of categories, too.}
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Thinking about it, this had to be somewhere in circa 1973. My marriage to my first wife Sharon had ended, that period was not the best time in my life.
I didn't want to go off to any war, not really. But government does not ask so in the middle 60's I found myself in some God forsaken country that up until then I had never really even heard of.
We used to go out on patrols, most of the time we saw bushes, jungle, and mud. Sometimes we shot at those bushes, jungle and mud and people hiding in them about a mile away shot back.
I have no clue as to if I ever hit anything, I do know one of the little people as we called them managed to hit me.
Not once but twice. Just blind luck, or being unlucky depending on your point of view. They couldn't see me and I couldn't see them.
I doubt if he ever had a clue as to his success.
That got me a free airplane ticket home.
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Home was not the same as it had been when I left, although it did take me about three months to figure that all out.
The on the naughty side wife named Sharon that I left behind was untouched by any other male the day I climbed on the train in Portland.
She had been touched quite a bit by the time I got back home.
Partly my fault, she and I had gotten into experiments. We did things like flash gas station attendants, let guys look up her dress in a small cafe we went to that appeared to be designed for that. At first it was panties but that progressed to no panties. We even had some friends over and played strip poker. Hell, it was the sixties and the world was changing very fast.
Sex was becoming a way of saying hello, I like you although our little coastal town was not as affected as the bigger cities were.
The silly flashing games always got Sharon hot as a pistol. At first she was extremely shy about it but as time went on and she got into that, she became almost blatant.
Then suddenly I was gone, and she was all alone with nothing to do.
It took some digging, some yelling, but finally I got most of the truth out of her.
The first few times were innocent, just out with some girl friends but this is how it starts. Then came a night of a few extra drinks, some of that smoke that was now showing up all over the place.
One of the guys that dropped by the table the gals sat at was better with females than most, and Sharon ended up with him giving her a ride home.
He also ended up staying the night, in my home, in my bed, with my wife!
By the time I got back home things like that had become a regular event, and not with just that one guy.
I had no clue at first, Sharon went right back to being faithful and acting happy with just me. Then one morning I stopped in for a beer after working graveyard shift at the mill, and ran into Bobby.
Bobby was a sort of bud at that time, and he was also drunk. That was nothing new, except being drunk at 7:30 in the morning usually suggested a problem.
He told me about this guy named Doug.
"That guy spent half the time you were gone fucking your old lady, I don't know how you put up with that shit!" Bobby blurted out.
Let's just say that started the ball rolling, Sharon and I had one hell of a lot of fights.
I have to admit I was not exactly an angel while overseas myself. The days when they let us have a break from being cannon fodder were often spent with some of the native women. There was no shortage of them, and nearly all of them were completely willing.
No big deal, I was a guy so that was expected.
Our real women were supposed to sit at home with their hands in their laps and wait.
One sided? Yea, but also the way things were.
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So by the 1970's, I was single again and living a couple of hundred miles away up North.
Women? I guess at that stage of my life I didn't like them very much. I vowed to myself that I would never be second fiddle to any man that walks the Earth. If a woman was with me, she had better god damn be with ME, or else!
The rental cabin I lived in was at one time a motel, the owners had converted the 6 units into full time living quarters.
Nice and cheap, exactly what I needed at the time.
One couple lived right across from me, the other four units were all women. Two of those had a pair of women living in them, the other two were singles.
They all eyed me carefully for perhaps two weeks, then I became part of the furniture, the bushes in the rather nice little well tended courtyard.
The couple were nearly always gone, other than wave when I saw them, that was it. Down on the end were two females, a shade older, and they clearly liked each other.
Which left four women unattached.
Of those, the cabin with the other two women was like a freeway, it popped into my head that those two gals had a little home business going on.
One day I saw the County Sheriff show up, he stayed an hour also. So there was no point in being concerned about anything.
Guys would show up, knock on the door while looking around furtively, then go inside for around an hour or so. The next one would show up about 15 minutes later, same thing.
That left Shelly, a chubby 25 year old dishwater blond, and Sandy, whose one goal in life was to be a musician.
Shelly worked in the local flower shop, she was constantly bringing home hanging baskets. The owners of the place didn't mind that, because it really did make the yard look nice.
I heard Sandy out there playing her guitar one sunny afternoon, and I had spent a short stint years before in a band. Back then it was "Leaving on a Jet Plane" and stuff like that, which evolved into "Proud Mary" and I could hit the licks with the best of them.
So I picked up my old Epiphone 12 string, a real one, not the current cheap Japanese version, and went out there.
Shelly looked at me and made an excuse, went inside her cabin.
"Oh, do you play?" Sandy asked me.
"Yea, a little. Mind if I join you?" I asked.
We sat there and played, after spending maybe 20 minutes getting the two tools tuned to each other.
Sandy sang a few numbers, her voice was clear and crisp with a bit of a nasal twang. I had a pretty good range, I could handle baritone, or switch to tenor rather easily, depending on the tune.
I did one number that was a solo, Sandy sat and watched with a big smile. When I finished, someone started clapping and I looked over to see the two lesbians sitting on their tiny porch listening.
"Gee, Danny. You are amazing!" Sandy told me, reaching out to pat my leg.
It had been perhaps six months since any female touched me at all, having someone like my efforts made me feel good and Sandy's hand was patting me rather high on the thigh.
Plus Sandy had on a white T-shirt and no bra, her nipples were making bumps in the cloth.
Of course I got an erection, of course I did. I lifted my leg to try and hide that, Sandy got a smirk on her face.
"Want a beer?" She asked.
"That sounds good." I replied.
Off we went to her cabin.
That was one fine afternoon, and it went right on into the evening. Her body was not spectacular, she was soft and completely female, plus she was also extremely eager.
It was nearly midnight when we were both done, that was one of those "just happened" scenarios all of us know about.
"Please don't tell Ray." Sandy told me at the door as I was leaving to walk across to my own cabin.
That brought me right to a stop. Who in the hell was Ray?
I found that out a few days later, Ray turned out to be the long haul truck driving boy friend.
Sharon and all of the shit we went through before, all of the cheating and lying flooded right back into my head.
Had I known about the boyfriend I would not have touched Sandy with a ten foot pole! By then, my head was wrapped around things changing in my life.
I didn't say anything to Ray though. I did see him come walking in and opening Sandy's door, he didn't knock or anything.
Of course not, Sandy was his woman and of course she was sitting there waiting faithfully for him to arrive, sure she was.
Just a couple of days earlier I had myself stuffed into every hole she had at least once, and damn near chewed her slightly flabby tits to oblivion.
Then Ray took off on another of his trips to God knows where, and he couldn't have been out of sight for more than 30 minutes before Sandy was knocking on my door.
I told her what I thought of that in no uncertain terms, things got loud and at one point Shelly came out and looked our way.
"Go fuck yourself, Danny!" Were the last words Sandy said to me as she stomped off.
Needless to say, we didn't play any more guitar together.
+++
I was at work when a guy I didn't know came into the shop, he said he had heard that I could play and sing.
After a short conversation, I found myself over at his house practicing.
Next I was up on a stage again, doing a mix of country and pop. The club was a tiny little bar, they had a standard fare restaurant in the next room.
If any of you have ever been to Seaside, Oregon, you probably know the place. It was still there the last time I was in town, some 15 years back.
Each evening it filled up with housewife types, the ones with husbands working swing shift at the mill.
The other band members took advantage of that, not me though. I would have nothing to do with any woman I thought might be attached, which meant I had nothing to do with any of them at all.
There were quite a few clear attempts, I saw panties in the closer tables since the angle from the low stage was almost perfect, and I also saw more than one female nipple.
Word got around that I was either gay or something was wrong with me. I didn't bother to respond to any of the comments.
One day a man came into the shop and asked me if I could handle a keyboard. I just happened to be able to, so he asked me to sit in with them since their keyboard player was sick.
Their group was booked into the Armory which was a rather big deal in the little town.
The called themselves "Paul Revere and the Raiders", I had never even heard of them myself although I did hear of them later on.
