by Dave ‘Haze’ Gray
I remember once long ago, sitting at the open-air bar on Baloy Beach, drinking with a shipmate, Jack Coates, when a bubblehead friend’s current girlfriend (his boat was at sea), wearing a bikini that would fit in the watch pocket of my Levi’s came to the bar, bought a San Miguel. She said, “Hi Dave. I didn’tsee you long time.”
“Well, hello Maria, you are as pretty as ever!”
She smiled at me and then walked onto the beach, spread the beach towel she was carrying, slathered herself with Baby Oil, and stretched out to sunbathe.
After I finished my beer, I bought two, walked to where she was laying, and offered her one. After a short conversation, the two of us repaired to the bubblehead’s house for a session of gymnastics.
When I got back to the bar, an hour or so later, my drinking buddy, Jack, said to me in his alcohol generated gravelly voice, “Come here Boy, let me smell yo’ breath, I’ll bet it smells like Baby Oil,”
BTW, the young lady and I had a history.