Chick lit Special

A heart tugging, tear jerking romance. Grab a box of tissues; open the chocolates and white wine. Except of course I’m male so you know it’ll end badly.
If it’s any consolation, it isn’t my story as such. It was told me by a lady of my acquaintance, rather more years ago than I care to remember. To prevent embarrassment I shall merely say it took place in a south coast town with port facilities and occasional US Navy presence.
My friend had just enrolled at a local higher educational establishment. (I told you I was being discrete here.) She, along with a bunch of other female students rented a house. It was an OK sort of house, the area wasn’t that salubrious but there again, more and more students were moving into it so it wasn’t about to improve much, whatever you did.
Anyway they got themselves settled in and started their courses. Life was a sharp learning curve. They soon learned that a lone female sitting along in the front room with the curtains opened was presumed to be advertising certain services of a ‘personal’ nature. This problem was easily solved, merely drawing the curtains seemed enough to change the signal sent out.
Still, they weren’t prepared for the next incident. At about 2am in the morning there is a hammering on the door, and before any of the girls occupying the house have time to do anything about it there is a crash as the front door in smashed down. This is followed by a male voice, bellowing (with authentic American accent) “US Shore patrol.”
Hastily this group of young ladies gathered at the top of the stairs and peered down at the group of US servicemen gathered at the bottom. Now here we have to have a technical digression. Had I been a witness to the scene or indeed had I invented the story; at this point a definitive statement would have been made. I would have made it my business to tell you whether these were US Marines, US Navy personnel or whatever. But alas the lady of my acquaintance was totally ‘lost at sea’ as we might say over these details. Purely for narrative ease I am going to assume the shore patrol was composed of marines. Anyway back to the story.
The Marine Sergeant in charge was looking for defaulters whose ship was sailing later that day and he was following the time honoured procedure of working his way through the brothels and similar dens of iniquity. The house whose door he had smashed down was on the list and the fact that the door hadn’t been thrown open immediately he knocked was a suspicious sign.
The fact that the only occupants appeared to be a group of young ‘ladies’ wearing night attire probably did nothing to convince him he was mistaken.
Eventually he allowed himself to be convinced. Whether it was the realisation that the night attire consisted predominantly of pyjamas and fluffy bunny slippers rather than baby doll nighties that swayed him I don’t know. Whether it was the vigour of the argument, or the simple fact that there were no young men present; but once proved wrong the Sergeant was not too proud to admit his mistake. He apologised and he and his shore patrol left. But he did leave a particularly burly marine standing in the doorway so that the girls weren’t bothered and could sleep secure until the door was replaced later that day.
Late that morning a young (and apparently charming) US Marine Lieutenant arrived bringing with him appropriate tradesmen. He apologised sincerely, drank coffee with them and the door was fixed to everybody’s satisfaction. A good job done and life reverted to its old tranquil routine.
Until three weeks later when there was a crash, the front door was smashed down and the bellow of “US Shore patrol” was once more heard.
Again there was the discussion with the initially sceptical sergeant; again there were the honest apologies, the leaving of a marine, and the arrival next morning of the charming Lieutenant with yet more apologies and suitable tradesmen to fix the damage.
Apparently the US navy had a list of brothels, bordellos and similar, and their house was still on it. As each ship sent out its own shore patrol with its own copy of the list, the problem was that the mistake kept getting made. But, as he drank coffee and soothed ruffled feathers he promised them that he was on their case and would do his best.
It has to be admitted that try he did, indeed it got to the stage where the Sergeant leading the shore patrol would be met by one bored female whose sole response was “Phone Lieutenant Rivera.”
It was only later that year, when the Lieutenant had been going out with one of the girls for over six months that he admitted he could have got the list changed after the first incident. But he hadn’t because he couldn’t think of any other way to keep on meeting her.
Isn’t young love beautiful?


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8 thoughts on “Chick lit Special

  1. willmacmillanjones July 17, 2013 at 12:51 pm Reply

    Thinking how I could adapt his technique…

  2. jwebster2 July 17, 2013 at 1:14 pm Reply

    I believe the US marines are still recruiting

  3. keirarts August 5, 2013 at 7:26 am Reply

    The joys of living in a red light district. I fondly remember my days living in Stoke and the dawning realization my student house which was super-cheap just happened to be slap-bang in the center of Stokes Red-light district. The tip-off was probably the open all hours massage parlors, though the hookers knocking at my door at 2am (they had the wrong house…honest!) were also strong evidence.

    • jwebster2 August 5, 2013 at 8:34 am Reply

      A terrible shock it must have been to a poor simple country boy like your good self to be sure

      • keirarts August 5, 2013 at 8:37 am

        I think it was more a shock for the hookers to see a red eyed ‘slightly out of it’ bloke with a fag in his mouth answer the door. I think they were expecting something else! That said, back when stolen moments was still going, i used to have out of town contractors knocking at my door and asking if it was stolen moments.

        Wrong end of Rawlinson street.

  4. jwebster2 August 5, 2013 at 8:41 am Reply

    There are some services even Blockbusters never expected you to supply 🙂

    • keirarts August 5, 2013 at 8:43 am Reply

      I was just a corporate whore.

  5. jwebster2 August 5, 2013 at 10:06 am Reply

    You have never been ‘just’ anything 🙂

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