Greetings Me Droogs N Droogettes!
Bit o’levity coming atcha this fine Sunday. I shut my fon off early last night BFYTW. I didn’t want to hear from anyone, least of all bill collectors or the solar power people.
Thankfully the car warranty folks seem to have gotten the word… how about y’all?
So, I mentioned yesterday about some blaq dood losing his shytte and killing a Tranny… how this was initially reported as part of the “¡Genociding!” (which, BTW is how forthwith said-terminology in regards to the Trannypocalypse will be said, much like ¡Jeb! of the Freaks, all and sundry.) Now…
As I’ve mentioned in the past, I did some Active Duty (Gulf One) and then ended up ‘RIFing’ to the reserves. Stayed close to home and ended up in the 187th Army Reserve Brigade, which was the reserve elements to my best unit evvar the 187th Regimental Combat Team aka The Rakkasans.
Gretch got me that as a gift. The screw up on it is it should be 95-96 on it, but hey, I can live with it… The fact she got the unit, down to the platoon correct? Hell yeah… so, anyways…
The 187th Reserve had a patch thusly:
Arrowhead and Powder horn. HQ was in Boston. This of course led to some hijinks and shenanigans in and around the Greater Boston Area on our two week annual training and/or our Weekend Warrior ‘stuff’.
Now, Back in the day, and any of y’all who were in Boston in the early 90’s, Kenmore Square was –the– happenin’ place to party at. Lansdowne Street, sandwiched between Fenway and the Square proper, with Bill’s Billiards, Axis OMG… club central. Then you had the absolutely infamous Rathskellar or more commonly called “The Rat”
Infamous for all the famous Boston Bands… The Dropkick Murphys, Aerosmith… I mean a who’s-who of massive famosity played there…
Yeah… All of it’s gone now… The Rat got torn down in 97 to make room for a big ole $$$$$ hotel. So… the other club across the Square from the Rat was a place called “Narcissus”
Now, when I hear the term “Meat Market” about a club, the very first place that leaps to mind is/was Narcissus… an absolute perfect definition of mid to late 80’s and early 90’s Dance Club excess… to the point the nickname of the place was Nar-siphilis. The place on the inside was two stories high, with a giant dancefloor that looked like it’d been ripped right out of Pachino’s ‘Scarface’… the dance scene with him and Michelle Pfeiffer? Yeah. Just like that.
So, one night, think it was the spring of 92? We had our first accountability formation on Friday night, and with the ‘usual orders’ that Saturday’s formation was at 0630, “…don’t be late, don’t get busted or else!!!” We got cut loose as it was a ‘station drill’ for equipment maintenance as opposed to mounting up the trucks and weapons and convoying down to Cape Edwards or Fort Devens for running around the woods for the weekend.
That night the squad decided to go downtown, as a group to chase some broads and tie one on. We ended up at Narsiphilis, and it was game on.
Now, the upstairs part of the club was more of a rendezvous/observation deck with some bars. You get some drinks, sit down, and people-watch. OR if you hook up, you head to one of the lesser-lit areas of the club. Couple of our guys did just that. Me? I was dating the now X-wife and had her meet up with me there, as another thing Narcissus was was one of the few under-21 allowable clubs in town. Needless to say, because of that it was –very– popular. Packed to the rafters usually.
About an hour into the fun, me and the X are up on the top deck, just looking around, chatting up with my buddy… the X had brought a friend for my buddy, and he was putting the moves on her, and all in all it was proceeding smoothly
We hear some yelling, a scream, a glass shatter and a thumping sound of a fist-to-face impact. The omnipresent Security goons start racing over and me and my buddy see that it’s one of our guys in the midst of the scrum… (God forgive me I can’t remember his name, only that he was a North End Eye-Tie) we beat feet over like at warp speed to see if we could to a hot extraction, as we knew Top would blow a gasket if one of us got hemmed up by the fuzz.
We get there and there’s this chick, not a bad looking chick mind you, holding her face, blood pouring down… looked like a broken nose… I was like first thoughts: “Ah shit, he’s fucked and that means we’re fucked…” when I hear him (while being restrained by Security) bellowing at the top of his lungs in that heavy Boston-Italian accent he had:
“BALLS!!! BALLS!!! THE BROAD HAS BALLS!!!”
Oh. My. God.
Seems dude had picked up a wee bit of what he thought was some sweetness… was making out, and making plans to slip down to the car for a little ‘satisfaction’ when he reached up under the skirt, and found a tree trunk and berries so to speak.
Needless to say, he geeked the hell out. Like lost it. Started waylaying ‘it’ for this revelation. Thankfully, we managed to get Security on our side via explaining that if they hemmed up our bro, we’d all be in the soup with the First Sergeant. Thankfully, the post-Gulf One feel-good vibes were still kicking, so we got a pass and got the hell out of Dodge before the real cops could show and start slapping on cuffs.
For the next year, anytime we were on drill with him, we gave him non-stop shit about it. I still laugh my ass off just thinking about it.
Then, yet again in the same unit and at a different time/place, with a different guy, we had another “Tranny Incident.” Now the first one? Let me tell you, there’s Trannies, then there’s Trannies. In the case of the first one? Man, thank GOD I had a girlfriend at the time ‘cos no shit, you could –not– tell that that particular ‘dude looked like a lady’. We’re talking “Tula” levels of whammenz:
She’s getting on in years, but Caroline Cossey, a Brit model turned out to be a dude at birth… He/She actually was a Bond Girl who got ‘outed’ by the tabloids after making the film.
Thing of it is, She is, IMO a genuine transgender as opposed to all these fucking play actors like lil Dylan and that swimmer fuck. SHE went all in, got the surgery and from all reports essentially lives like her whole life as a female.
The chick that our buddy hooked up with?
Mad hot. I wouldn’t’ve been able to tell.
Maaan… this was a dude in a dress. And granted, we saw it for what it was in the club. What we didn’t see was PV1 Gillette (his name I remember) picking it up, and going out to the parking lot.
Unlike the first incident, Gillette came back in from outside. We were sort of confused (as smoking back then was still allowed in the clubs) so we asked him where’d he been off to?
Now Gillette was a seriously deep southern Cracker from Georgia… I swear dude’s middle name was ‘Laconic’… not a big talker, not stupid, just a man of few words. He drawled out to us “Went outside with thet thar ole girl… got me a skull job in th’ parkin’ lot…”
Our Platoon Daddy, Frank (SFC but the reserves were pretty low key on rank in the clubs and whatnot) looked at him, and said “Gillette, you know that was a guy right? For real… that was a guy made up to look like a broad…”
We all held our breath as we waited to see his reaction to this news… I looked around and noticed said he/she/it dude had thankfully popped smoke as I, hell all of us, judging from the worried looks on everyone’s faces were worried that Gillette was going to go nutso like our other guy had a year or so earlier…
Gillette just sort of sat there… took a drag off his beer, and said “Sure did give some good head for a dude tho…”
All of us
Man, I thought I was going to piss myself. I think Frank did piss himself. The Platoon practically drowned out the music in the place with our laughter… Good Lord… talk about a pragmatist…
Even now, to this day, all I can think of how hilarious the two incidents were, and that they still make me laugh years later.
Hope Y’all Enjoyed. Happy Sunday!