Child of a Republican

Discussion in 'Books' started by rjhangover, Nov 13, 2011.

  1. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    Mom divorces dad at age two, marries step dad at age three.
    I smoked my first cigarette at age three with grandpa. My Pa told me that Davy Crockett didn’t kill his first bear till he was three, so I couldn’t smoke a cigarette till I was three.
    Moms second husband was in the military, so he moved us to Germany soon after they got married. I sneak out to the playground early one morning and started a fire in the sandbox with paper, at age four.
    We moved back to Colorado at age five. I got my cousin to dance on top of car and pull her panties down. My cousin was two years old.
    We move to Columbia South Carolina at age six. I pooped my pants walking home form school one time. Don’t know why I remember that. We had a pet rabbit that scratched my hand, and I still got the scar to prove it. My Pa (grandpa) and my grandma divorced after being married for 25 years. So she came to visit us while we were there.
    Then we moved to Manhattan Kansas at age seven. My pet dog Chalky got poisoned. My first heart break. Mom was so heartless, she wouldn’t let him in the house even in winter. He slept inside a tire laying in the front yard. My sisters cats would lay on top of him to keep each other warm. Got another one, but it got run over by car.
    I went to second grade in a one room school. First through sixth grade were on one side of the room. Seventh and eighth grade were on the other side of the room. There was a partition that separated the seventh and eighth graders.
    We moved to Enterprise Alabama at age eight. That’s where I accepted Jesus as my savior. Mom was a Baptist at the time. So the preacher had me stand down at the altar while everyone passed by me and congratulated me for being saved from hell. I got baptized the next Saturday night.
    My third dog died of rabies.
    Mom worked two jobs, beauty shop during the day, the Big R root-beer stand at night, so she was gone most the time. And step dad still in the army, went to Vietnam for a year.
    One night mom taught me how to inhale cigarettes while we were waiting out a rain storm in the car. She thought is was funny seeing me turn green. But I got the hang of it real good. I was well on my way to being a cool dude.
    I spent most of my time on the other side of the tracks, in the “N WORD” part of town. They were friendlier to new comers, and played pool better too. There was a sign at the tracks that said, “No ni**ers better be in town after sundown”.
    I got my first job selling boiled peanuts on the street, working for Mrs. McGee, who’s husband ran the local cab company. Peanuts were ten cents a bag, I got twenty percent, two cents a bag. I made five dollars a day, which is more than the seventy-five cents an hour minimum wage.
    Mom and I were pretty close when I was young, probably because she was young then too. She took me to see Jerry Lee Lewis’ Great Balls of Fire concert in Birmingham. I was sure I wanted to be a musician after that. Mom bought me my first twelve dollar guitar when I was nine.
    Kennedy got assassinated that year. Walking home from school that day was real strange. The sky was all gray, and it seemed the whole world had a cloud over it.
    Governor Wallace, the segregationist came to Enterprise for a parade and came up to me and shook my hand. What an honor, to get buddy buddy with a racist.
    At age ten, I got hooked up with some delinquents, and start learning the ways of the criminal world. We broke in a feed store one night and cleaned out the cash register. We didn’t get caught for that one. But sometimes Karma isn’t always instant as John Lennon sang in his song. Sometimes is takes it’s sweet time before it bites you on the ass.

    I flunked the fifth grade, which I think was pretty amazing being in Alabama.
    I saw a movie somewhere around this time of my life, a science fiction movie about a couple that lived in the future. I don’t remember the name of the movie, but I remember all about it for some reason. Big brother had cameras everywhere, even in every room in everyone's homes. And nobody could have children unless they had a permit from the government. Women had to go in the bathroom every night and get hooked up to a machine that would sterilize them so they wouldn’t get pregnant. But this couple defied the government and the lady didn’t use the machine and got pregnant. Because of the cameras in their home, big brother saw her belly getting big. So the government called them out into the street. When they walked out into the street, this flying upside down looking cup hovered over them and dropped down on them, I guess to disintegrate them. But they knew what was going to happen, so when they came out into the street they stood over a manhole. And when the cup dropped down on them, they opened the manhole and crawled down in the sewer. They walked through the sewer for miles till it came out into paradise. I thought it was a very bizarre movie for the early 60’s. Wish I could remember the name of the movie so I could see it again.
    One summer day, while riding bikes on a Sunday afternoon with the delinquents, we rode by a drive-in movie theater and see a car at the snack bar. Thinking it’s the owner, we ride up to see if he would sell us a soda. Turns out its high school kids robbing the place. They drive off when they see us coming. They only stole the money and left the door open. So we help our selves to all the candy and cigarettes.
    A week later we are all down in our clubhouse (an old root cellar in the back of a house that had been torn down). We were all chain smoking so many cigarettes that the smoke was coming up through the rickety wood door. A cop driving by noticed the smoke and busted us. Most of us went to reform school. I got off, because my mom told the judge she was taking me back to Colorado. She was separating from her second husband.
    The day we got back to Colorado Springs, we went to my Grandma’s house and my aunt and cousins were there expecting us. My aunt told me that my cousin Tina was two blocks down the street at her boyfriends house. I had just turned eleven and Tina was eight years old, but we had been close when we were young, ha ha. She was the one that danced on top the car for me. So I started walking down the street to meet her.
    She saw me coming and ran up to me and hugged me. She was all excited, and asked if I had ever jacked off. I told her no, cause I’d never heard of it before. So she takes me to her boyfriends house, where we went down to the basement. Then her and her boyfriend get naked and start doing the horizontal mambo. They had their terms mixed up, but were teaching me plenty. She asked me if I wanted to try it and I said sure. None of us were old enough to achieve orgasm, but it sure felt good.
    Tina’s boyfriend was ten. His dad was a stock car driver, and he got me to talk my mom into being a trophy queen at the races. I got to sell roasted peanuts in the stands. That was the proudest I ever was with my mom.
    Mom let me go to my first concert by myself that summer. I got to go to Hullabaloo, which was a less commercial form of American Band Stand. That’s where I saw Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels. I also saw Buffalo Springfield at a roller rink a few weeks later.
    Went to sixth grade in Colorado Springs that fall, and started a brush fire in a field at lunchtime while smoking cigarettes with more delinquents. Didn’t get caught.
    In the spring, I was in a track meet at school when my appendix gave out. The pain was the worst I’d ever experienced, I could even walk. Mom took me to the hospital at the army base, and they took it out within a couple of hours. Army doctors leave a big reminder of the surgery. I’ve got a six inch scar that starts at my right hip and goes down to my dick. That was the first and only time I got shaved down there. Why they did it is a mystery, I was bald at the time.
    When I came to after the surgery, they made me get up and walk around, which made me puke. Then the I.V. came out of my vein when I was asleep and made my arm swell up with fluid. After a day or so they put me on food and gave me a wheel chair to ride up and down the halls in. And the doctors gave me this big honkin syringe to use as a water gun. They kept me in the hospital for four days.
     
  2. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    While at sixth grade graduation, I killed a baby duck in a pond by throwing rocks at the mom and babies. Felt really bad, and got in trouble, cause the other kids that were throwing rocks with me, went and ratted on me.
    Went to a movie with my sisters and cousins that summer. Went to the bathroom in the balcony to smoke a cigarette, because couldn’t smoke in the lobby at age eleven. Started to light up, when a Catholic priest walked in. To avoid a lecture from him, I went to the down stairs bathroom to smoke. I lit up, and in walks the priest. He walks over to the urinal and pulls out his ten-inch shlong, standing so I could see it. After peeing, he comes over to me and asks me for a hit off my cig. I hand him the pack and tell him to have one. He lights his with mine, grabbing my hand to light his. He asks me if I’d ever had a blow job. Being ignorant, I tell him I didn’t own a car. He starts telling me what a blow job is. I’m so scared, I run two miles to my grandma’s house. My mom beats me for leaving my sisters and cousins.
    Two months later, a friend with alcoholic parents was getting beat so bad by his dad, he was going to run away from home. I had heard about a preacher that lived a couple blocks from my aunt. This preacher was married with two little daughters. We went and told the preacher about my friends’ problem. My buddy ended up moving in with the preacher.
    A few days latter, my friend and I were romping through the woods, when we came upon a two story brick building. We went inside and found the whole building was full of musical instruments. We went back and told the preacher what we found. He told us to take him there.
    When we got back to the building, I went up to the second floor to check it out. When I came back down, the preacher and my friend had gone down to the basement. I went down there and found my buddy lying on the cement floor with his pants to his ankles, and the preacher was standing over him ejaculating on his back. I ran home and told my mom. She beat me, and told me never to see them again.
    A month later my mom got back together with her second husband. Then we moved to Gunnison Colorado, and I started junior high in red neck USA.
    Just before we left the Springs, Mom bought me a real guitar, a Gibson electric hallow body. It was the best thing she ever did for me.
    I learned to ski that winter in Crested Butte. These friends of my mom took me to the top of the mountain, spent about 30 seconds showing me how to snow plow and then said, “see ya at the bottom”. Picked it up pretty fast. By the end of the day I could Stem Christy.
    Crested Butte was a hell of a town back then. I could get served at the Wooden Nickel at age 13. Don’t think there was any cops there back then.
    When we got to Gunnison I got a paper route delivering the Rocky Mountain News. More than half of my route was at Western State College delivering to the students in the dorms. It wasn’t as easy as riding my bike door to door, but it was a lot warmer in the winter. Temperatures in Gunnison got down to 40 below zero in January and February. I especially liked delivering to the girls dorm. They thought I was cute, and would come to their door in their panties just to get me hot, when I collected at the end of the month.
    Three months after we moved to Gunnison, my mom divorced her second husband. The welfare department makes my mom, my sisters and me go to counseling because mom seems to be having a nervous break down. These shrinks send me to the nut house in Pueblo for tests, and decide that I should be sent to a boys ranch for six months, to help me grow up.
    That worked well. I learned all about drugs and circle jerks, and how to fight. Mom never came to visit me the whole time I was there, but my grandma did. She had gotten married again to a real nice guy named Bill. And they would come up on the weekends every once in a while, and get me the hell out of there for a couple of days. And Bill would always give me a few packs of cigarettes to take back with me.
    When I got out, mom was dating a guy less than nine years older than me. He was a college kid and a real juicer, but so was my mom so that was a good match. My mom and my aunt used to get drunk when we were in Colorado Springs, and have some knock down drag out fights with each other. I’m surprised they didn’t kill each other. Rednecks can’t have a good time without getting into a fight and getting bloody.
    A month later I turned thirteen and got drunk for the first time with some friends at a gas station. I got so trashed on beer, Jack Daniels and burgundy wine, one of the guys drove me home and dumped me on my bed, and told me that if I came back to the station he was going to kick my ass. I couldn’t even get off the bed, and blew chunks in the trash can he had set by my bed. Mom came home from a picnic with her new beau and my sisters. She asked what was wrong with me, and I told her I had the flu. She knew, but didn’t beat me cause I wouldn’t have felt it anyway.
     
  3. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    I got a job that summer on the carnival when it came to town. I worked in what they called the joints, getting suckers to play for stuffed animals. I got 15% of what I brought in. On the weekend I’d make sixty or seventy dollars a night. Back in the 60’s that was damn good duckets, especially for a thirteen year old. The carnival was only in town for ten days, but it was great while it lasted.
    After that I got a job washing dishes at the Lighthouse Restaurant for a dollar an hour. That was like being on poverty after working at the carnival. Never could save any money up though, mom always made me spend it on school clothes.
    I had a girlfriend Betty that tried to get me to go to Denver with her to see Led Zeppelin. Mom wouldn’t let me go, and we broke up after that.
    Mom owned her own beauty shop after I got out of the Boys Ranch. It was in back, and there was a barbershop in the front. There were two barbers, and old drunk and a guy about my moms’ age. He was married and had a kid. They had a cabin out on the Gunnison River.
    Somehow me and a friend ended up there by ourselves one day. And there was a .22 rifle over the mantle of the fireplace that I took down and was aiming at Norm. He told me not to point the thing at him. I said it wasn’t loaded, and aimed it a little to the left of him and pulled the trigger, and the damn thing went off! We both about [excrement] our pants. Lesson learned. Thank God for guardian angels, his and mine.
    I had another friend Norman that I met when I first got to Gunnison. He was one of the few friends I had. Gunnison was a bunch of redneck ranchers, and they didn’t like newcomers any more than Enterprise Alabama did. Norm was from a family of eleven kids. I taught him how to play guitar right after I moved to Gunnison. He picked it up real fast. Within a month he could play almost as good as me.
    When we got in high school, we heard about electric bananas in a song, and thought we’d try to get high on them during lunchtime. We dried them out in the oven, then crushed them up and smoked them in a pipe. Or I should say I smoked them, cause he chickened out. I don’t think they did anything to me, but I didn’t let him know that. I pretended to be really tripped out on the way back to school, and started acting all crazy, and telling him I thought I was growing a horn out of my head like a unicorn. It scared him pretty bad, he ran off to school and not long after that quit hanging out with me, and started hanging with his old redneck friends he’d grown up with.
    Oh, I almost forgot about Louise. Louise was a girl that was born on the same day as I was, in the same hospital. My mom and her mom were friends till my mom divorced my real dad and moved to Germany with her second husband. Supposedly Louise and I even shared the same diapers. But about the time Louis and I turned fourteen, Her mom and dad somehow found my mom and came to Gunnison to visit from Missouri where they lived. Louise and I became boyfriend and girlfriend that week, and then had a long distance relationship for three years. We wrote love letters to each other, but that is as far as it ever got.
    I got a job on one of the ranches one summer, stacking hay. They’ve got these tractors that drive around backwards with a big fork on it that collects a bunch of hay. Then they drive over to the stack where there is another fork that the tractor pushes the hay onto. Then that fork lifts it up and over onto the stack. I had to stand on the stack, and when the hay gets dumped, I had to even it out on the top. That was the most miserable job I’ve ever had. I’ve got hay fever so bad it made my eyes swell shut. And no amount of allergy medicine would make it so I could breath.
    A few other friends and I used to go camping out at Hartman Rocks, even in the winter, in the snow. Found out years later they used to dump Uranium tailings out there. All the high school kids used to have keggers out at Hartman Rocks on Friday night. Back then the drinking age was eighteen, but most of us weren’t that old. Cops never came out and busted us though.
    At age 15, I saw the movie “Easy Rider” and knew from then on that I was destined to be a hippie. I think I decided that just to spite the rednecks in Gunnison. Might as well give them a good reason not to like me.
    to be continued....
     
  4. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    In 1968, one of the guys at the gas station filled up a hippie van with water in their gas tank. They broke down a few blocks away on Main Street. These hippies were traveling from New York to the Monterey music fest, but decided they weren’t going to make it in time, so they walked into the real-estate office and bought a house.
    They also rented an adobe house that only had a bathroom, kitchen and living room, about 600 square feet total. They turned it into a head shop. That really freaked out the rednecks in Gunnison.
    These hippies turned out to be my really good friends. I spent all of my time with them at their house and the head shop. They turned me on to pot. It took me three times before I got high, or at least till I realized I was high. They tried to get me to do Orange Sunshine (LSD), but I didn’t try acid until three years later.
    We had a water balloon fight once, where half of us had the house and the other half had the head shop as our command posts. We were raiding each others posts and met on Main Street, throwing balloons out of the cars at each other. Then they raided us at the head shop. We thought we were ready for them. We had a big trash can full of water balloons on the roof. When they came up we blasted them good, until we ran out of balloons. Then they came up after us with the garden hose. They caught me right at the feet, just when I was about to jump off the roof. When I slipped off, I broke my arm. Mom wouldn’t take me to the doctor till the next day. That pain was worse than getting a beating.
    That fall some moron redneck broke my nose in a fight after school. After that, I ditched more school than I attended. Mom didn’t take me to the doctor at all for that. Forty years later, I still can’t breathe.
    Besides that, I’m a right brained person living in a left brained world, so I never did any good in school. I flunked algebra two years in a row. Not because I couldn’t do the math, I got straight A’s on the tests. It was the [female canine] I had for a teacher, half the grade was homework, which I never did.
    The only good teacher that I can ever remember having, was my world history teacher. He was also the high school football coach. This guy really kept his students interested in what he was teaching, by telling stories about the dirty deeds and sexual exploits of the kings and queens of the dark and middle ages. He once quoted Confucius saying, “ Confucius says that when rape is inevitable, relax and enjoy it.” He would probably be imprisoned or at least fired for saying that today. But when you think about how our government officials have screwed the American people over the last forty years, hey…
    maybe he knew what was coming. He died a few years after I got out of school. He was on a football trip with the team. They were going over Monarch pass when the bus drove off a thousand foot cliff.
    In 69’ they landed on the moon. Bet there’s nobody that was alive then, that doesn’t remember what they were doing that day. I was playing poker at a girlfriends house, with her dad.
    Just before I turned seventeen I was about to start eleventh grade when mom and her alcoholic boyfriend got married and moved us to Manassas Virginia where his parents lived. Actually his parents lived in Chantilly. But Manassas was a lot cooler than Gunnison, and a lot bigger.
    Gunnison only had three thousand people, with only four hundred kids in the high school. Manassas had a population of twenty-five thousand, and the high school had fifteen hundred. Manassas high even had a smoking area for the students, in Gunnison only chewing tobacco was accepted, but you had to swallow it in class, no spitting in a cup.
    I had a black girlfriend in Manassas High, but mom made me break up with her. Mom had a conniption over that.
     
  5. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    As usual, I got in with the wrong crowd again in Manassas. I got into shop lifting, and got caught stealing a carton of cigarettes. I was given the choice of going back to another boys ranch or going in the army. Karma had finally caught up with me.
    I took my physical in Richmond Virginia. I took the bus down from Manassas. When I walked out of the bus terminal with my map of where I was supposed to go to spend the night at a hotel, a middle aged dude came up to me and said that he knew where the hotel was that I was supposed to stay. He said he could show me where the recruiting station was also, and offered me a ride. When I got in his station wagon, he told me he had just dropped his wife off at the bus station, because she was going to her mothers house for the weekend. As he was driving down the street, he pulled out a briefcase, put it on my lap and opened it. Inside were all these magazines of guys having sex with each other. Then he grabbed my leg and asked me if it got me excited. Luckily were at a red light. My mother’s husband had given me a whole grocery sack of bananas to eat on the way down to Richmond. He said it would put some weight on me, because he knew I probably didn’t weigh enough to pass the physical. I had managed to eat a few, but still had more than five pounds still in the bag. And when that guy grabbed my leg I hit him right in the face with those bananas! I jumped out and grabbed my backpack out of the back seat. I found the hotel by myself. The hotel had a free ticket to a movie that was next door, Soldier Blue was playing. I also got a free dinner.
    This was at the time of the Vietnam War, but I figured at least I would get paid and have at least a little freedom after boot camp. It didn’t even cross my mind that I might die in Vietnam.
    I signed up to be an airborne medic. But because I weighed less than a hundred pounds, the army put me on the medrep program, which meant they guaranteed me to make it through basic training. I was forced to eat two meals to everybody else’s one. And I was given a half-hour to eat, instead of five minutes like the other guys. In two months of double portions I never gained an ounce, just [excrement] a lot.
    I took my G.E.D. test while in basic, and passed with such a high score I received a diploma from the Common Wealth of Virginia
    After the second week of basic, we were allowed to go to the Bastone club on the weekends and drink beer. I had just recently turned seventeen, but back then if you were in the army you could drink on post. But one time ol’ Ledbetter, this hillbilly got sloshed and ended up peeing in his bunkmates boots. Got his ass kicked by his bunkmate, and then by the drill Sgt..
    After basic training in Fort Campbell Kentucky, they sent me to Clerk school in Fort Leonardwood Missouri. Turns out I didn’t weigh enough to be in airborne. Luckily after six weeks of clerk training, I got sent to Fort Ben Harrison Indiana for financial dispersing training. Best job in the military. Nobody messes with the pay clerk, or they don’t get paid.
    After that training I got sent to Fort Huachuca Arizona for my first duty station. On the way there, I stopped off in Colorado to visit my aunt and uncle and my Grandma. While I was there, I got drunk with my aunt and uncle. My aunt flipped out and started calling my uncle impotent, and stabbed him with a butcher knife (my uncle was a butcher). She put over a hundred stitches in his back and came less than an inch from his heart.
    I was the one that had to call the cops, and then run out of the house, cause she was threatening to get me next. Damn cops made me crawl in a window when they got there, to unlock the front door. I was scared to death she was gonna stab me when I came in the window. But she was locked in the bathroom. My uncle was passed out in a chair in the dinning room from loss of blood. She ended up in the nut house for a couple of months, but they stayed together their whole lives, until she died of cirrhosis of the liver at age 64. He died two years later of a broken heart at age 69.
     
  6. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    When I got to Fort Hauchuca we had a company commander for the finance office and one for the barracks. The C.O. for the barracks had just graduated from West Point, and was determined to make soldiers out of us. He had us out for hair cut inspection, shoe shine inspection, and every other inspection he could think of, every morning until the end of the month when he didn’t get his pay check. He came in the finance office wanting to know where his check was, but nobody could find his records. Six months later his records were found in Vietnam. No one ever found out who sent them there.
    After being in Fort Huachuca a couple of months, I ended up at a bullfight in Mexico where I met my first wife. We were married within two months. We lived with her folks in Tombstone for a few weeks, after our Catholic wedding.
    My buddy Manuel took me down to Agua Prieta, a Mexican border town just before I got married for my bachelor party. We went to a bar in Boys town where all the hookers hung out. When we went in, we went to the bar and ordered beers. Right away two girls came up to Manuel and started talking to him in Spanish. They were hugging on him and rubbing his legs, as I tried not to look envious. After a few minutes Manuel asked me if I saw any girls that I liked. I pointed to one that looked kind of hot, and Manuel yelled at her and pointed at me. She came over and started talking to me in Spanish, which I didn’t understand a word of, and started rubbing my leg. I asked Manuel what she was saying, and he said not to worry about it. Then all of a sudden she asked, “You spam?” I nodded my head yes, and she drug me off the bar stool into a room in the back. When we got in the room she locked the door and motioned with her hands for me to take my clothes off, and she went in the bathroom. When she came out, all she had on was a garter belt and fishnet hose. All I had on was my army issued boxers. She grinned and motioned for me to take them off. Well this was my first time with a hooker, and besides that it was kind of chilly, so when I took off the boxers my manhood was anything but manly. To make it worse, she started laughing. She pulled me over to the bed and started yankin my chain to get it worked up. Finally when there was some stiffness she asked, “OK?” and I nodded in the affirmative. Then she lifted me up and put me on top of her and crammed it inside. She started gyrating and moaning, grabbing my ass and thrusting me in and out of her. I felt like I was plugged into a machine! It was so weird I never got a nut. Eventually she figured out it wasn’t going to happen so she said, “OK?” again and I said “OK” and she lifted me off her, got up went in the bathroom and came out a minute later and motioned for me to put my clothes on and then walked back out to the bar. When I came back out to the bar, I went over to her where she was sitting with Manuel and asked how much I owed her. She said something to Manuel, and he told me that she had said that the first one is always on the house.
    Rosie’s parents had an adobe house, with a wood floor and wood burning stove in the kitchen. The living room had a tile floor, but nobody ever spent any time in the living room, we always hung out in the kitchen or on the front porch. That’s where her dad and I spent the weekends with a case of beer. The kitchen and the living room were the only two rooms that didn’t have dirt floors. The bathroom was an outhouse. The shower was two army blankets wrapped around four trees, with a hose attached with wire to one of the trees.
    Rosie and I moved into a trailer in Sierra Vista a few months later right outside the fort, cause my 62’ Plymouth convertible lost it’s brakes, and I was afraid I was going to end up AWOL hitchhiking twenty miles to work. After six months of wedded bliss, I received orders to Germany.
    The wife didn’t like the idea, so she ran away with some other soldier and moved in with him. None of her sisters or parents would tell me where she was, but I heard from a friend of mine who was dating one of my wife’s sisters, that she was going to come to the trailer and get her things while I was at work.
    So that day I called in sick, and was at the trailer when she showed up. We fought and argued and had sex all day. Then finally she told me she was too scared to go to Germany, but if I would just go ahead and go, after the dude she was with got out of the army, in about two months, she would come and be with me. I told her to get screwed, and divorced her.
    More coming...
     
  7. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    When I got to Fort Jackson South Carolina for the flight to Germany, the army decided to keep me there because they were giving early outs to draftees in Vietnam, and they needed me to help process them. Three hundred troops a day for five months were getting processed out.
    I got over my divorce with another young thing that I met in Columbia, who I got pregnant. I know this is bad, but I don’t remember her name. She didn’t tell me she was with child until three days before I was supposed to go to Iran. Iran!? What the hell is in Iran? Well, I wasn’t going to rush into another marriage, so I took her to my mom’s house in Manassas, and told her I’d send her money till I got back from Iran. My mother the hypocrite, gave up drinking when she got married, and became a Republican, ended up getting my girlfriend an abortion within two weeks.
    The only thing in Iran was a communications depot for the U.S. embassy. No finance office, all their records were kept in Germany. So since they spent all that money sending me there, they turned me into a Teletype operator.
    In all, it took forty of us to keep the depot going. We lived in a Persian mansion with a garden, a pool, a gatekeeper, and a cook.
    When I arrived at the Tehran airport, a gorgeous Iranian girl came up to me and introduced herself, her mother and brother and sister. She said her name was Ashi, and told me she wanted to be my friend, because she wanted to learn to speak English. But hell, she could already speak English better than me.
    But a week later I decided to go for visit. Man, was that a good decision. She and her mother treated me like a king. They waited on me hand and foot. I guess her father died, of what I never found out. But they must have been pretty well off, cause they were always buying me gifts and they lived in a nice house.
    She was eighteen, just finishing high school. I was nineteen with a year still to go in the army.
    Most women in Iran wore these black sheets that covered their whole bodies. She didn’t wear one, but her mother did. That was when the Shah was still running the country. Guess that’s why she was able to get away with not wearing a black sheet.
    I think her plan was for us to get married, but my heart was still pretty scared up from my first marriage. She was a virgin when we met, and still one when I left Iran. We made out and dry humped for the seven months I was there, but I could never get her pants down. Who knows what would have happened if I would have succeeded.
    But luckily prostitution was legal when I was in Tehran, so I didn’t have blue balls for all that time. There were three classes of hookers. The low class girls were fifty cents to two dollars. They were down in the old part of town, called Shalayno. There were buildings a solid block long, with doors every fifty feet apart, with anywhere from one to twenty girls in each door.
    The first time I went down there, I had only been in Tehran about three days. And another soldier from Puerto Rico had only been there two or three days longer than me, and he was dying to go check it out too.
    We took a cab about 11pm, not knowing the place closed down around midnight. As soon as we got out of the taxi, these two Iranian guys came up to us and said they knew what we wanted and that they would show us some good ones. Juan was ready to follow them, but I didn’t like the idea. But rather than be down in that strange place by myself, I went along.
    They took us down an ally, and then into a door. As soon as we were in, they bolted the door, with only a staircase in front of us to go up.
    At the top of the stairs were two old women. One was about 70, weighed about two hundred pounds with only one tooth and what looked like gangrene in her left eye.
    Lucky for me I was the first to the top of the stairs. I took one look at her and grabbed the 80-year-old hunchback with no teeth, and dragged her into the bedroom. Believe it or not, she gave me the best hummer I’ve ever had to this day. I paid her eighteen cents in American change, and she thought she had become rich.
    Puerto Rican Juan came out of his bedroom with his pants to his ankles, and shuffled over to a sink and scrubbed his member like it had been contaminated with a toxic substance, which might have been the case.
     
  8. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    We usually went down to Shalayno once or twice a week, because of this one little beauty who had a grandmother that would run all the Farsi (Iranian men) out when we showed up. Grandma would pull out her hookah and smoke black hashish with us and tell us stories in the Farsi language while we waited our turn with her granddaughter. She was a real babe that knew her way around a staff. She cost a hundred ryals, a little over two dollars. There were four of us that were regular customers.
    The middle class girls were a lot of fun. They were just like the New York hookers, with all the makeup and miniskirts and fishnet hose. They hung out in the new part of town, up by the fancy hotels. We would have to drive around until one stepped out on the street. And then there would be ten to twelve cars full of Farsi men that would just stop their cars in the middle of the street and start bidding on her. But because we were the rich Americans, all we had to do is toot the horn and they’d come running to us. She’d hop in, but then we had to drive like maniacs until we ditched the ten cars of Farsi, cause they wouldn’t just give up. They would drive up beside us and try to offer her more money, but it never worked.
    Once we ditched them, we would take her back to the mansion. Sometimes we’d get a dozen of them all running around the mansion naked, and have orgies. They would stay all night and do us all for a thousand ryals, thirteen dollars each.
    The high-class ladies were usually French or Swedish in a penthouse suite with dinner and Champagne, three thousand ryals, thirty-nine dollars. I had one, once a month whether I needed it or not.
    The rules of driving In Iran were simple, there weren’t any rules. At rush hour, a six lane street would become a one way headed out of town. But there was always somebody that was headed into town, and he would just weave through the oncoming traffic, sometimes having to drive on the sidewalk. If you were driving outside of the city at night, and a car was coming at you on the same road, if you had your lights on the car coming at you would turn their lights off. If you turned yours off, he’d turn his on.
    Our gate guard was our main man. We would go to the commissary once a month and buy a hundred dollars worth of groceries and booze, and he would buy it from us for three hundred dollars, no questions asked.
    I bought brand new Fisher skis with Look Nevada bindings and Kolflak boots on the black market for six bottles of Johnny Walker red, eight dollars a bottle.
    The lift tickets at the ski area were two dollars a day. Best Skiing in the world, hob knobbing with all the jet setters from all over Europe. The way our schedules were at work, we could ski four or five days a week.
    And the hash, did I mention the hash? When I first got there, I bought a kilo for two hundred and fifty dollars. I smoked it all in eight weeks, so I cut myself back to a hundred grams a week. Cloud nine twenty-four seven.
    One time our car broke down right in front of a cop shop that was in the middle of the street. We went to find a phone to call for help. When we got back and fixed the car, the both of the cops were grinning at us like the cat that ate the canary. Then later we found out they had stole the hundred grams we had stashed in the glove box.
    With only forty of us, it took us all to keep the communications depot going. So they couldn’t afford to bust us for smoking, mainly because we usually smoked in groups. The only ones that didn’t burn it were the C.O. the X.O., the Command SGT. Major, and two of the enlisted.
    On the X.O.s first night, the SGT. Major came in on a bunch of us when we were burning it, and grabbed the deal (a cigarette with hash in it) out one guys hand, broke it open and emptied it in his hand and told the new X.O., “don’t mess with this stuff, it will spam you up.”, then they left the room.
    At night we’d all sit against the wall under these pine trees that went around the mansion, over by the verandah next to the pool, to smoke and make a pack of deals. We’d make a pack at a time and smoke them the next day. To make a pack of deals, you start by putting a pack of cigarettes in a lamp for ten minutes or so, to dry out the tobacco. Then get a Frisbee and dump the tobacco of ten of the cigarettes in, but keep the shells of the cigarettes. Take the other ten cigs, and throw the tobacco away, but keep the shells. Then you take your cookie of hash and heat it up with a Bic lighter on one side for about five seconds. When it heats up, it will crumble off the cookie and fluff up real nice, about fifteen to twenty grams. Then you mix it together with the tobacco of the ten cigarettes in the friz Then all you have to do is take one shell at a time, put the filter in your mouth, and suck the mix back in the shell, leaving a millimeter at the end to fold over so the stuff don’t fall out. Do that with all twenty and put them back in the pack, and smoke them like regular cigarettes the next day. Everybody just smoked their own, no need to pass them around.
    A good reason to just buy a hundred grams a week, was it you bought a kilo, you had to bury it, couldn’t keep it in the house, SGT. Major would steal it. And by the time you got down to the last couple of hundred gram cookies, they were getting kinda moldy.
     
  9. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    more tomorrow....
     
  10. skip

    skip Founder Administrator

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    Is this a full book? If so I have other suggestions for you rather than posting it up piecemeal...

    Interesting story so far! :0)
     
  11. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    The wall was made out of Adobe, so that’s where everybody stashed their cookies. But I had a pet monkey that I bought from another guy who finished his tour, and went back state side. We’d all be sitting out there under the trees getting stoned and start spacing out. That’s when Palavi (that was the monkeys’ name) would drop out of one of the trees onto this sunshade by the pool, run across it, and jump down on one of us and bite, just playing.
    And if you didn’t hide your stash in the wall good enough, that monkey would steal it. He got a hold of a good size chunk once, and ate it. Got so stoned, I had to crawl in the cage and get him down off it. The cage was made out of chicken wire and two-by- fours, with plywood on top and bottom. Its size was about four feet by four feet by six feet, with one-bys’ around the middle and a broom handle across like a perch. But the door was only a little bigger than a foot square.
    When I found the poor thing, he was clinging on to the chicken wire about half way up, on the one-by, with his eyes rolling up in his head. And he was moaning like a drunk ready puke. “WOO… WOO!”
    When the snow came in December, Palavi came up missing. I later found out the SGT Major gave him to a Farsi, who made soup out of him. SGT. Major was an [butt opening]! He didn’t like me, and nobody liked him. He finally found a way to get rid of me.
    I had just finished a twelve hour graveyard shift, and was about ready to hit the sack, when he came in and told me I had an hour to get ready for a speech being given by Nixons Secretary of Defense.
    Now, in Iran we weren’t allowed to wear our uniforms off the compound, it was considered at show of force. And on the compound we only wore our pickle suits (fatigues). So I hadn’t even seen my dress greens in six months. They were tucked in my footlocker. There was no time to press it, and besides I didn’t even have an iron. So when I showed up for the speech, I looked like I had been sleeping in that uniform for six months. I got an article 15, that said I was attempting to aid the enemy. I took it to the JAG (military defense attorney), but still had to pay the $50 bucks.
    Right after that the SGT. Major caught me with my Iranian girlfriend in my bunk, that was another article 15, another $50 bucks and a transfer to Shape Headquarters in Belgium. When the SGT.Major handed me my orders he said, “I’m sending you to a friend of mine that promises me that he’s going to make a soldier out of you”.
    Shape Headquarters is where all the generals of NATO get together and plan their war strategies. Enlisted men get carpal tunnel syndrome in their elbow, from saluting every three seconds.
    So I ended up saying goodbye to my Persian sweetie. And I think that day she wanted to consummate our relationship, but after all that time it didn’t seem right, knowing that she just wanted to, so that I would send for her and tie the knot. Still wasn’t ready for that again. But I gave her my mom’s address, cause I didn’t have one in Belgium. She wrote to me twice a week for five months without hearing from me, because mom was such a racist she didn’t forward her letters to me. Mom still hates anyone that ain’t American, and even a lot of them, if they’re not white.
    So I hop on this 747 headed for Belgium. Actually it was going to Frankfurt Germany, where I had to catch another plane to Belgium. But there was this dude coming from India with 50 grams of Napalese temple balls in his shoe. I was going to do that, but chickened out. Anyway, he offered me a two-gram ball, and I ate it. A few hours later I still wasn’t feeling anything, so I asked him if the [excrement] was any good. He gave me another gram, and I ate it. Twenty minutes later the first ball hit me just when we started descending into Frankfurt.
    It was great until I had to run from one end of the airport to the other, while carrying a duffel bag, a brief case, and a guitar, because my flight was leaving in five minutes. Frankfurt airport is as big as LAX.
    By the time I got on the plane, things were spinning so bad I felt like I was in a blender. Then they started the engines, and it wasn’t a jet, it was a propeller plane! It felt like we were taking off for like fifteen minutes, and I was starting to feel kind of green. Then they did take off, and all I could do is grab the airsick bag and heave my guts up. And everybody on the plane was staring at me, and their faces were melting and becoming deformed.
    When we finally leveled off, I stumbled back to the washroom and cleaned the puke off my face, went back to my seat and passed out. I don’t remember another thing until the next morning. But I had to get off the plane in Brussels, go to the train station and catch the train to Shape Headquarters. I don’t speak German, and I don’t speak French, but my guardian angel came through for me again, cause I woke up the next morning in this beautiful French hotel with a giant feather bed and continental breakfast, for two dollars.
    I swear, I tripped my ass off the whole day like I was on some really good shrooms. Can you imagine reporting to my new C.O. while tripping balls? It was like something out of a National Lampoon movie.
     
  12. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    First thing he did, was snatch my 201 file out of my hand, look at it for about ten seconds, then look up at me and then start yelling, “Where’s my salute?! And you are supposed to say specialist Hangover reporting for duty, sir! And what kind of name is Hangover? Well?” Try to do and say that without a smile, while seeing rainbows shooting out of his ears and mouth.
    Somehow it came out the way he wanted, but it didn’t satisfy him. He growled, “I don’t like you Hangover. And it’s going to be my mission to make you miserable.”
    Couple of days later I was late to work because my alarm clock was still being shipped with a bunch of my other stuff from Iran , and nobody woke me up. Two weeks after that I was called in to the C.O.s office. He handed me transfer orders to Hielbroughn Germany. He told me he had found just the right hellhole for me. I didn’t think it could be any worse than Generals Dreamland, so much for thinking.
    While I was in Belgium, I had bought a 65’VW. It topped out at 60mph on the autobahn, but only cost me a hundred bucks. On the way to Germany I was passing a Semi that was doing 55mph, and a Lamborgini came up on me in my rearview mirror doing 180mph, flashing it’s lights like a fire truck. It felt like it took ten minutes to get around that Semi.
    When I got to the fort at Hielbroughn I found out what my previous C.O. was talking about when he said hellhole. It was gruntville, infantry (regular army foot soldiers), and most of them had just done a tour in Nam. 70% of them were hard core heroin addicts.
    They didn’t give a [excrement] about nothing. In the first 48 hours that I was there, 90% of all the stuff I had brought from Iran had been stolen.
    This one junkie in my barracks used to love to take his syringe, and pull the plunger back with the needle on real loose, and the hit the plunger so that it would shoot the needle at whoever he was aiming at. He thought that was hilarious.
    And if guys weren’t chasing the dragon, they were strung out on meth. There were only a few of us lightweight hash smokers. But man, it was friggin expensive compared to Iran. It was 2 to 4 dollars a gram! I went through withdrawals, because I had to cut back, couldn’t afford 20 grams a day at that price. And I didn’t have a gatekeeper to keep me in spending money any more.
    So I managed to get by on just a couple of grams a day. But there was a lot more variety. Chokin Red, Temple Balls, Blonde, and Paper Dynamite (blonde laced with opium). All the stuff I got in Iran came from Afghanistan or Pakistan. And nobody smoked deals, didn’t even know what they were. Every body just smoked out of a pipe, straight hash, no tobacco.
    I wasn’t supposed to drive my VW when I got to Germany because it had Belgian license plates. But I found out that Norm from Gunnison was in the army and was stationed in eastern Germany at a missile site. He was an M.P. (military police) stationed there to guard the missiles.
    So a new friend and I took off in the VW one weekend to visit ol’ Norm. On the way there we passed an old graveyard, and I got a real weird feeling about it.
    We got to Norm’s base just when he was getting off duty, and partied like it was 1999. I had gotten a real good deal on 40 grams of Temple Balls just before we left Hielbroughn. So we smoked and drank beer all night.
    We crashed out about 3am, and at 6 o’clock one of Norms’ friends woke him up and asked him if I would give him a ride home. He lived off the base. So Norm woke me up and we drove him home. He lived up in the mountains on this windy one lane road.
    On the way back to the base, we were coming around this bend when the VW started hopping on the liberal side two wheels of the car. Damn thing just flipped right off the cliff! Flipped it three times. There wasn’t a window left in it, all four tires were flat, and the roof was caved in. But neither me nor Norm or my other friend (I don’t remember his name) even got a scratch. It sure shook us up though. I can still remember holding on to the steering wheel thinking, when the hell is this thing gona stop! It rolled through a fence into a farmer’s field. There wasn’t a window left in the car. All four tires were flat, and the hood was caved in. My other friend and me had to take the train back to Hielbroughn.
     
  13. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    Back at the fort I was so stressed out from hanging around all those junkies, that I was having to go see a shrink once a week.
    I ended up doing my first hit of acid, it was called Green Monster and lived up to its name. I saw ghosts of WWII coming out the old radiators in the barracks we were in.
    Luckily I got an early out to go to college, so I was only there for four months. I did take another G.E.D. test while I was there for my first year of college credits. I failed the English portion of the test by three points. I got out before I could retake that part of the test.
    Damn army made me get three haircuts before they would give me my E.T.A. orders. I looked like I just got out of basic. I got on a jet to Ft. Dix New Jersey to process out. Steely Dan was playing “Reelin in the Years” on the planes stereo. It was the best I’d ever felt in my life! Had to hitchhike from Ft. Dix to my moms’ house in Manassas.
    I was supposed to go to college at Western State in Gunnison, but the V.A. (veterans administration) hadn’t come through with my tuition check. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Gunnison was a college town, weird huh. Anyway, I ended up going to Northern Virginia Community College instead. Not only were my tuition checks not coming in, but I wasn’t getting any help from mom or her hubby, except that they let me stay at their house, but they weren’t happy about it.
    But it didn’t last long, cause I was having to work at McDonalds from ten at night till 6am. I was the maintenance man that cleaned the place after closing time. Then I’d go to class from 7am till two in the afternoon. I’d get home at three in the afternoon and sleep till nine, and there was no time to study, so I only made it for about six weeks before I said, “to hell with this” and quit.
    Two weeks after I quit I finally received a check from the V.A.. I quit McDonalds and got a job moving portable buildings. I moved in with some old buddies that I went to high school with before I went in the army, in a townhouse up the street from my moms’ place. Mom and I both liked that. I don’t know if ya’ll noticed, but mom and I were not very close after she sent me to that Boys Ranch.
    The townhouse was a bona fied bachelor pad. It’s where I experienced my first manage et twa. This one buddy of mine Greg, was having a problem with girls. He had one but loved another. So he used me to break up with the one he wanted to get rid of. He took her upstairs to my bedroom, cause he still lived with his mom. He got her naked and then called for me to come up. When I got in the room, he said he needed help satisfying this nympho. So I got naked with them, and Greg and I filled her orifices. After she was well taken care of, she slobbed our knobs and got plenty of protein. But then she started crying, so we took turns kissing both sets of her lips.
    Greg was born and raised a Catholic. I had taught him how to play guitar, and he was in the choir in his church. It was a folk mass, and they let me play in it too. But there was this other girl in the choir that came to mass tripping on acid. She kept laughing as we were singing. She said she kept seeing Jesus crawling down off the cross.
    A few months later I met this older woman, she was like thirty years old. Back then that was pretty old for me, I was only twenty. She had two daughters, one was about seven or eight, the other was about ten, but she was, how should I put this…mentally challenged.
    This lady worked as an electrician during the day, and was in desperate need of someone to watch her kids. So I became daddy day care. I quit my job moving portable buildings and moved in with her. It turned out to be not a good idea. It wasn’t hard, I just had to get the kids on the bus in the morning and then watch them when they got home from school in the afternoon till she got home at five o’clock.
    But a few days after I moved in, I went to a Doobie Brothers concert on Friday night with Greg and another friend, Stuttery Steve. Steve couldn’t get out a sentence without stuttering.
    On the way to the show, Steve had done some Strawberry Mescaline. When we got there I got a hold of a four way hit of Windowpane. I split it with Steve because Greg didn’t want any. Man that was the stongest stuff I ever did! Steve flipped out! He started kicking people in the head that were sitting in front of us. Greg was trying to hold him down, and telling me to help. Yeah right, I was having a hard enough time keeping my own self together. I just pretended not to know them and went to get a beer. Steve ended up at the Red Cross tent, where they gave him a bunch of downers to sedate him.
    After the concert Greg dropped me off in front of my moms’ house. It took me ten minutes before I figured out where I was. I managed to walk a few blocks to some other friends house that were at the show, but they hadn’t got home yet. But one of them hadn’t gone to the show because he had to work, so he let me in.
    They had a bedroom all covered in tinfoil with black lights and posters, where we all got stoned. But I was tripping so hard I didn’t have the wherewithal to even turn on the stereo. I just sat in that room with the black lights on and listened to WWIII going off in my head.
    The others finally got home an hour later, and we smoked about a ounce of pot to try to come down. They weren’t tripping, so they crashed out just before dawn. I tripped for three friggin days!
    I was still trippin on Monday when I was supposed to watch the kids. When I walked in the house she knew I was still trashed, and was pissed off. She kicked me out that morning. Just as well, I wouldn’t have been able to handle taking care of the kids anyway.
    So I spent a few days with another friend, Dean. He could understand what I was going through because he went through a whole year doing ten to twenty hits a day when we were in high school. That one trip was enough for me for a while. I don’t know how Dean managed to stay tripping for a whole year. Actually he was kinda of a crispy critter after that.
    When I finally came back to earth, I decided to hit the road and hitchhike out to Colorado to see my Grandparents. They had got back together when both of their second spouses died of cancer.
    END OF CHAPTER ONE...
     
  14. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    When I got out to Colorado, my pa had a job up in Summit County just north of Silverthorne. He was driving a truck at a site that was building a Molybdenum mining refinery, way up at the top of these mountains.
    My Aunt Jan and Uncle Jim came up for the weekend with my grandmother once, and we had a picnic in the woods. That was the time that Jan and Jim, my Pa and my grandma all got stoned together. I had some real good black hash, and it got my grandma so stoned all she could do is grin. Pa didn’t much care for it, he preferred his bourbon. But at least he was open minded enough to try it, which is something my mom would never do. Actually, I think my Aunt Jan told me she got my mom to try it once, but I never smoked with her.
    My uncle Gaylan was the big boss of the whole construction company, and hired me on as an engineers helper filing blueprints and such. But after about a month my uncle put me out with the carpenters, why I don’t know.
    But I got hooked up with these guys that were a lot more fun than the engineers. We were building the crusher pit. It was a hundred feet below ground and a hundred feet above ground. The walls were three feet thick below ground, made out of concrete. We built the forms that the concrete was poured into. We worked five ten-hour days.
    It took an hour to drive up to the site in the morning and an hour to drive home to Silverthorne. These guys were hard-core workers, and even harder partiers. We’d get off work and drive strait to the liquor store and buy a fifth of peppermint schnapps and drink it down in five minutes between the three of us, just to try to come down off the cross tops we’d done during the day. Then we would go to the house and eat what dinner we could manage to choke down, then take showers and head out to the Old Dillon Inn. We would drink Heinekens and Johnny Walker black till the bar closed.
    We’d get about four hours sleep, and then get up, take some more cross tops and do it all over again. I managed to hang with those guys for about another month before I was toast from all the speed and booze. Besides that, the snow started flying and it was cold as a witch’s titty on that mountain.
    So I quit that job and got a job working at a hotel cleaning rooms. It was a ski chalet, and they gave me a season pass to Keystone ski resort as a benefit. I worked there till spring, then moved back down to Colorado Springs and started hair styling school.
    What a sweet gig that was. My G.I. benefits paid for school, my apartment and my food. I had a part time job at night at a restaurant as a bus boy for the first month or so. Then after the first month at the school, they put me out on the floor doing peoples hair. The school charged a fraction of what a regular hair salon charged. The students didn’t get paid, the school got all the money, but we got tips. I made plenty of money in tips, enough to quit the bus boy job.
    But before I quit, one night André the giant (the pro wrestler) came in the restaurant and had dinner after he did a show with the WWF. That dude was amazing! He ate four complete meals in one sitting, along with three desserts.
    Hey guys, if you like the ladies cosmetology is the way to go. The man that owned the school actually had three schools in the Springs. There were a total of a hundred and twenty women and only three guys going to those three schools. One guy was married and had a kid, another was either gay or a necrophiliac (he ended up working in a morgue doing dead peoples hair after he graduated), so there was really no competition for the affections of the cuties.
     
  15. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    And me, I was twenty-two years old, and a disco king. The hundred and twenty women were anywhere from eighteen to forty-five years old. Some were married, some had boyfriends, but there was still a bunch that I had a lot of fun with.
    There was about forty women at each school, and Charles (the owner) shuffled me from one school to another because women loved having a man do their hair, and besides, I was one of the best stylists in all three schools. Not only was I having a lot of fun with the girls at the school, but also there were a lot of ladies that would come in and get their hair done by me and ask me out on dates.
    One time this babe came in and told the teacher at the front desk that she wanted me to do her hair. I’d never done her hair before, but she was gorgeous. She worked as a cocktail waitress at the Four Seasons Hotel on the south side of town.
    She came back to my station and I brushed her hair and then took her back to the shampoo bowl where I gave her a very sensuous massage along with the shampoo. I took her back to my chair and began to cut her hair, just a trim.
    While I was cutting her hair, she reaches out from under the shampoo cape and starts playing with my jewels, I about cut her ear off! As I was finishing the coif, she asked me out to dinner. I said sure, but that I didn’t have a car. She said she had one and asked me for my address so she could come and pick me up. She tipped me twenty bucks and a kiss.
    She picked me up at my place a 6:30 and took me to this four star restaurant for dinner, and she paid for dinner, I think it was like a hundred dollars for the meal.
    Then she takes me to a movie theater to see the movie “Shampoo with Warren Beatty”. But only five minutes into the movie she tells me to pull down my pants. Now we were sitting in the back of the theater, but there were people on both sides of us and in the row in front of us, though not right directly in front of us. I told her that I was crazy, but not that crazy. But she just undid my pants and yanked them down to my knees, and then sat right down on me. She was wearing a skirt and no panties. What an adrenaline rush!
    The only thing I remember thinking, was envisioning my picture on the front page of the news paper, being arrested for indecent exposure. But it seemed like everyone around us was either really into the movie, or they were trying real hard to ignore us. So after a few seconds I got aroused, and I surprised her by standing up and bending her over the seat in front of us and drilling her for about ten seconds before I pulled up my pants and told her we had to go to my place to finish. We got out of there without getting arrested went to my flat and did the Crocodile Rock all night.
    Two days later she shows up at the school and signs up to be a student. We turned out to be an item. I kept my place, but spent most of my time at hers. She lived on the west side of town over by the Broadmore, It was the rich swanky part of the city. I had at least half my clothes at her place.
    She still kept her job as a cocktail waitress because she made between one and two hundred dollars a night working three or four hours, four nights a week.
    She had a five-year-old son that had hair down to the middle of his back. She let him smoke pot, which wierded me out. He could get stoned and carry on a conversation on an adult level.
    One time I was in the shower with her and the kid came in and jumped in the shower with us! He was getting all frisky with his mom’s tits, and I couldn’t deal with it, so I got out and started drying off. Soon they got out and ran in the bedroom. I got dressed and went in the bedroom to find them on the bed naked, and he had a little one inch hard on. That was just too much for me, I broke up with her.
    I didn’t turn her in because of my experience with the boy’s ranch. I figured that if I had turned her in, the authorities would have sent him to one and he’d really end up messed up in the head.
    The break up was hard, because I think I was in love with her. I had been divorced for almost four years, and it was the first time since then that I’d let myself get close to anyone.
     
  16. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    Right away, I started dating this other cutie that was going to school. She was a real floozy, and I’m lucky that the worst I got from her was the crabs. Back in those days there was no such thing as AIDS. The worst thing a guy had to worry about was a case of the clap, and that was taken care of with a shot of penicillin.
    In fact when I was in Iran I thought I was immune to social diseases. I’d do the same whores as all the other guys, but I never had to go get a shot. Never even got the crabs when I was there. And wouldn’t you know it, the first time I got the crabs was the first time I had an adulterous affair.
    There was this married honey in my apartment building that ended up in my place to smoke a joint, and we got horny after we burned one. It was only a half-hour after she went back to her place, that I found the dang critters crawling in my shrubbery. I went up to her place and told her the problem I had discovered, and she shaved before her hubby got home. I was scared to death he was going to find out and shoot my ass. I swore off married women after that.
    About that time I got hooked up with a dealer that would front me a pound of pot for a hundred dollars, and I would hitchhike up to Summit county on the weekends and sell it there, cause I could get fifteen dollars an ounce up there. It was only ten dollars an ounce in the Springs.
    I’d bag it into ounces and roll it up in my sleeping bag on Friday night, and then hitch up to Silverthorne on Saturday after school, where my old buddies still lived and sell it to them.
    One time these two hippie-looking guys picked me up in the Springs that were headed to Denver. When I got in the car they had good tunes playing on the stereo, and they seemed cool so I asked them if they wanted to smoke a joint. They said sure, so I had a few grams of stash in my pocket, and I twisted one up. We started smoking the joint, and then one of them told me they were DEA agents. That made me nervous, but I pretended that they were just pulling my leg. Then he broke out this brief case that had their I.D.s and guns and ounces of cocaine and heroin in it. Then I got scared! They told me they didn’t have time to bust me because they were on their way to bust a big LSD ring, and besides in Colorado it was only a hundred-dollar fine for an ounce or less. They didn’t know I had a pound in my sleeping bag.
    When we got to Denver, they dropped me off at the I.25/I.70 interchange. I was never so glad to get out of a car in my life. But wouldn’t you know it, the next dude that picked me up was going to a Rolling Stones concert and was looking for some buds. I traded him two ounces of buds for two extra Stones tickets that he had. He gave me a ride all the way to the far west side of Denver, up to the mountains.
    Then I caught one more ride over the pass to Silverthorne. Once I got there I was going to get in touch with this girlfriend I had there and have her take me to the concert, cause she had a car. But when I got there she had already gone to the show with some other people, and so had all my other friends. So not only did I not get to go to the concert, but also none of my friends were around for me to stay with, so I had to camp out that night. Next day my friends showed up and I sold my buds and hitched back to Colorado Springs.
    That's all for today...
     
  17. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    The next week was really bad. I got a pound on Thursday and had this other so- called friend in my apartment building help me ounce it up. I even gave him a few buds for helping me. The next day Friday, I had to go to school. When I got home, my stash was gone! That son of a [female canine] had broke in my apartment and stole it! I knew it was him, Because he was the only one that knew I had it, and it was the only thing missing.
    So I decided to get the bastard busted for burglary. I got another pound and had him help me ounce it up that evening so that he would know that I had more. I told him that I thought that this other [butt opening] was the one that broke in and took my stash, pretending not to know that I knew it was him that ripped me off.
    Next morning I took my stash up to the married woman and had her hold onto it for me so that it wouldn’t be in my place when he broke in. And I told the manager of the building that someone was breaking in to apartments and to keep an eye out. I also called the cops and told them there was a burglar, and that I thought he was going to break in my place while I was at school.
    When I got home from school, he had broke in my place but couldn’t find the stash, so he stole everything else I owned, my TV, my stereo, my records, and even my clothes.
    He packed up all of his stuff with his wife and kid and moved, where I don’t know. But he must have moved out of state, cause I gave the cops his license plate number and they never found him.
    After I got all my stuff ripped off, my grandma helped me out. She got me an apartment up by Manitou Springs, but it was too far from the School. My pa wasn’t working up at Summit County anymore, because he had started getting sickly from decades of smoking cigarettes, so they had moved to Penrose Colorado just outside of Canon City.
    I went to a bar one night in Manitou and got slipped a micky. I was drinking at the bar and went to the bathroom to pee, and I left my beer on the bar to save my seat. When I came back my beer was still there and I finished it and got another. But before I finished the second beer things were starting to get weird. Luckily I was well acquainted with being on acid, so I knew what was happening. I made it back to my apartment and rode out the trip. Tripping is only fun if you take the dose yourself.
    Soon after that old Charles transferred me to the school on the south side of town. So I got an efficiency behind this house over by that school. It wasn’t an apartment, it was like guest quarters for the house in the front.
    The school on the south side is where the Gay dude had gone to school and he had just graduated, so I was the only male stylist there when I got transferred.
    I went to that school for a couple of months before Charles transferred me up to the school on the north side. Actually I was kind of shuffled between the two. Then I finished up back at the school where I started, took the State board exam and graduated after a year of going to school.
    Right after that I got a job at a high-class salon over by the Broadmore. I only worked there for about two months before I was sick of all the snobs. So I went looking for another kind of job other than hair styling.
    I went in a glass shop and filled out an application. When I handed it to the manager, he looked up at me and asked what my mothers’ name was. I told him her name was Delores. Then he said, “Son, it’s good to see you!”
    Turned out he was my real father, that I hadn’t seen since I was two years old, except for one time when I was eleven, when we first moved back to Colorado from Alabama. He had found out my mom was separated from her second husband, and he was trying to get a little from her, even though he was married to his third wife.
    Anyway, he asked me to go to dinner that night and meet two half brothers that I’d never met. We met at a real nice restaurant, had dinner and I met his third wife as well. He paid for dinner and then gave me fifty bucks and told me it was good to see me after all this time, but that he didn’t need any help at the glass shop.
     
  18. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    So the next day I packed my duffel bag and hit the road. Where I was going, I wasn’t sure. I just wanted to get the road under my feet again. I stuck out my thumb on Interstate 25 headed south. I thought I might head towards Tombstone and check out my ex’s parents for a week or two.
    Just before sunset that day I ended up in Santa Fe New Mexico, on the edge of town. I went in a grocery store and got a few things to eat. And I asked this cute little cashier where there was a place I could camp for the night. She told me there was a youth hostel down by the plaza in town, which would put me up for the night for free. So I got directions from her and went and checked it out.
    I spent a couple of days at the hostel and then went on down to Tombstone. I had a little over a hundred and fifty bucks, and I remembered that that I could get kilos of pot for a hundred dollars in Tombstone back when I was in the army.
    I hitchhiked down Interstate 25 to Los Cruses and then headed west on I.10 to Benson, then cut down to Tombstone. But the ride I caught to Los Cruses was a guy that lived in El Paso Tx., and he had told me that he had a friend there that could get me some pot if I didn’t hook up in Tombstone.
    And as it happened, my friends that I used to know there in Tombstone that sold pot, had moved to somewhere in Tucson. So I spent a few days with my ex-inlaws and then headed back to El Paso.
    When I got there, I caught a ride with this chic, from the edge of town into the down town area. She asked me if I had time to come over to her place and have a beer. I never turn down an invite from a hottie. We got to her house and she broke out some really nice buds and some coke. I spent a week with her, smoking and snorting and making whoopie. I had told her that first day that I was going to meet this guy who was going to get me a pound of pot. But by the time I got to El Paso, I only had about sixty dollars left to my name. Turned out, she was into dealing herself, and she ended up just giving me a pound to take back up to Colorado. She told me that if I ever needed fifty pounds or so to come and see her.
    So I hitched back to Colorado Springs and sold the pot, and then headed back to the youth hostel in Santa Fe. The hostel was run by a group called the Christ Brotherhood. It was kind of like a commune of hippies that had their own perceptions of Jesus and the bible. They believed that everything written in the bible after the four gospels was a lie, except Revelations. All the writings of Paul that is, were a bunch of crap. They thought that Paul was never an apostle, but just a wanabe.
    They tried to follow the example of Jesus as best they could. They didn’t work for money, and spent all their time feeding and providing for the poor. They didn’t charge any money for anyone to stay at the youth hostel. Anyone could come and stay there for up to three days. And they fed everyone breakfast and dinner. There was usually between a hundred to a hundred and fifty people there every night.
    Because Santa Fe is such a tourist town, there were a lot of Europeans that came through the hostel. But we also took care of all the homeless people that hung out in town. I say we, because I joined the commune.
    There was about forty of us in the group, but only about twenty of us were there at any given time, because the other half would be going out on pilgrimages. A pilgrimage is where we would go on a trip hitchhiking to various different places, even other states for up to a month at a time, and camp out or visit relatives or friends, or anyone we met on the road that would take us in.
    If we were at the hostel, we spent all our time cleaning, cooking, doing laundry, and reading the bible.
     
  19. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    Once, I was doing dishes when this cowboy came in the hostel and asked me to house sit for him up in Llano Largo, just south of Taos. He had a log cabin with a dirt floor and a wood-burning cook stove. I stayed three weeks before I started getting cabin fever, nobody to talk to. Then one of the other members of the brotherhood came up and took over for me. I was glad to get back to the hostel.
    Sometimes we acted as tour guides for the Europeans. And these tourists would take us out to dinner or to a movie or a concert. A girl from France, her name was Fanny, took me to see the movie Star Wars that summer. Another girl from Baltimore Md. took me to see the movie Wizards, a cartoon.
    There was this one guy that was the founder of the brotherhood that was, I guess pretty well off, and he had bought the house. It was a big house with other buildings behind it, with a huge courtyard.
    There were so many people that stayed there that there weren’t enough beds, so some had to sleep out in the courtyard unless it was raining. Mostly it was us sleeping in the courtyard, we gave the beds to the guests. But sometimes there were so many that some of the guests would have to sleep out there with us.
    One night me and another brother were lying out under the stars, when we noticed one of the stars was moving. And it was moving really fast, and it was making a whole bunch of really sharp turns in the sky. Now I’ve seen satellites move across the sky. The move kinda slow and steady, and don’t make any turns. This thing wasn’t anything like that. It made some awesome maneuvers! Ok, I’ll be honest, we were doing a hit of purple pyramid, but what we were seeing wasn’t a hallucination, because we were both seeing the same thing.
    The way the hostel fed everyone, was donations from many of the businesses in town. Grocery stores would donate two day old produce. McDonalds and Kentucky Fried Chicken would donate all their leftovers at the end of the night. And bakeries would donate day old bread and doughnuts.
    Donations by guests were always excepted, but we never asked for them. It was mind blowing, the love that was generated by the folks that came to stay for a few days. To this day I still get misty when I think about the magic of that place.
    That fall, in November, I hitchhiked back to Manassas for Thanksgiving at my moms’ house. I ended up staying there that winter.
    While on the east coast I went to see the girl from Baltimore that I had met at the youth hostel that summer. She was studying art at Maryland University. Hitchhiking into Baltimore was no problem, I caught a ride right to her apartment. But when I left to go back to Manassas, I had to ask three people how to get out of town before I found someone who new where Interstate 95 was.
    more later....
     
  20. rjhangover

    rjhangover Senior Member

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    In the spring I hitched back out to the youth hostel. On the way back to Santa Fe, I stopped at “THE FARM” in Tennessee. It’s another commune that I had heard about that was totally self-sufficient. There was something like three or four hundred folks at that place. But they didn’t treat visitors near as well as we did at the youth hostel.
    I ended up getting real sick when I was there. So sick in fact, that I had to take a bus out to Santa Fe. I was delirious, with fever. When I got to the hostel I found two ticks in my armpit, I had contracted Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Believe me, it’s something you never want to get. But I got over it soon enough, and spent the summer at the youth hostel.
    In August I when back down to the youth hostel and started hanging with them again. Me and one of the other brotherhood went on a pilgrimage to Crater Lake in Washington. But we hitched up through Colorado where we ran into a girl I had met at the hostel. She was living in Craig, just west of Steamboat Springs. She had gotten hooked up with this other guy and was living with him.
    But I still decided I wanted to hang out with them, and told the guy I was traveling with to go ahead to Crater Lake without me. So he took off and I stayed with them for about three days. She bought me a new guitar while I was with them.
    I found a job working for a seismograph company in Craig. They hired me on as a Juggie. I stomped geophones in the ground all day. We did a line through Yellowjacket pass just to the west of Craig. It’s a forty mile dirt road through the mountains. The whole crew ended up dosing on LSD. I bent down to stick a geophone in the ground when I heard a rattle. I looked in front of me, and there is this diamondback rattlesnake about five feet from my face! Immediately, my reflexes sprang me backwards about fifteen feet! And at the same time the snake sprang the other way another fifteen feet! Hard to tell who was more scared, me or the snake. It shocked me right out of my trip.
    I worked a few weeks and then hitched back to Manassas and hooked up with my friend Dean, the acid king. He had finally got himself together and quit tripping all the time. I had told him about working in the seismic fields.
    Seismograph exploration is used to look for oil, and back in the 70’s, the business was booming. The money was great, about two thousand a month, which was dang good money back in those days. But they worked twelve to sixteen hours a day, seven days a week.
    So Dean and I were going to hitch back out to Colorado and get on another seismic crew. But on the way out there we got picked up by this A-hole that tried to rip us off.
    He picked us up in Ohio and told us he was going to see a friend in Indiana and do some partying. He went to where his buddy worked, and went in to see when he was getting off work. He told his buddy he’d meet him at this bar when he got off work. So we went to the bar with this guy, because it was getting close to sunset and he had told us his buddy would put us up for the night.
    His friend showed up about a half an hour later at the bar. They said they were going out to the car to burn one and would be right back. Thirty minutes went by and they still hadn’t came back in the bar, so Dean and I went out to the parking lot and the guys car was gone, with all our stuff in it. We waited in that parking lot for three hours, but they never showed up. Then it started to rain, so Dean and I found this stone pump house that we had to sleep in that night, without sleeping bags or coats.
    The next morning we went back to where the dudes’ friend worked, and told him that if he didn’t get our stuff back from that A-hole we were going to turn him in to his boss for ripping us off, and for doing drugs. He told us that we would take us to the A-holes house in Ohio after he got off work. So we had to wait around all day for him to get off work. But he did take us back to Ohio to the A-holes house that evening.
    When we got there, the A-hole had all our stuff laid out on his livingroom floor. He said he was looking for an address to send our stuff to, yeah sure. Dean was going to kick his ass, but I told him we didn’t need any more trouble. So we packed our stuff and caught a ride back to Indiana with the A-holes friend.
    Two days later we made it out to Colorado and had a job on a seismic crew as soon as we got there. We worked for about a month and then decided to head down to the beaches of Texas for the winter.
    The story continues in Texas tomorrow...
     

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