Chapter 12: Party Time!

Once we hit Panama City I thought it only proper that we present our papers to the Policia National. We first stopped by the American Embassy, to obtain the understanding and cooperation of the Ambassador and his agents. Then we proceeded to present our papers (with all pomp and circumstance) to the police. Since we'd be packing heat on their territory and had a quiet little yacht that could totally blow away the wharf where we were tied off, it seemed only polite to let them know that we had a need to carry said munitions and that at least somebody trusted us with this kind of firepower. We went so far as to offer to aid and assist with any maritime problems that came up while they were our hosts.

Chrissy knew Spanish as if she'd been born to it. I had a foreman's knowledge of the language and Angie was somewhere in between us.

Of course, everything in the city was in Spanish. There were English guides to be had at ruinous fees that would give the gringo tourists a safe, sanitary vacation that would leave them fat, dumb and happy. Naw, that wasn't us. We wanted to get drunk and stupid with the locals.

It was February and a lot of little private parties were being held, leading up to Mardi Gras. We had to join "clubs" to drink and dance, as that was the way they did things. It was a legal way of charging a two-drink minimum. Different places, different cops to get around. No problem!

We saw a lot of live bands, and we must have entertained the hell out of the natives learning how to dance Salsa. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven with a hot-hot-hot Chiquita grinding her quim all over my thigh until she locked up and grabbed me.

I just stood there, pushed out my jaw and shouted "OLE!"

I swear we brought down the house. All I missed was the disco fist in the air and the pelvic thrust. We had one hell of a time. I gave her a little kiss and she ran off to giggle with her friends. Come to think of it, I'll bet she wasn't but fourteen or so. I hoped that I made her night as she sure made mine!

It was the first time but it wasn't the last. Over the next couple of weeks I think I became the local preferred early-teen 'carnival ride'. Even the plump little girls got to grind and groan. I was 'safe' and fun. I had one hell of a good time too. It wasn't hands-off, either! The girls gave me a full ration of shit over it but it was all in fun, and we all knew it. Of course, twenty years before I'd have been invited to several pistol exhibitions at dawn--bring your second and a casket.

I got paid back for all my 'suffering' by a professional salsa dancer. Good golly, Miss Molly! That woman had pivots and hydraulic actuators where other women had no idea. She had me loading my shorts in about twenty minutes--twenty long, agonizing, excruciating, screamingly long minutes! I was lost as I watched her little ball-bearing buttocks tick-tock away from me when she was finished. Jesus Christ on a Pogo Stick. I DEFINITELY got pictures of HER.

We linked that article to a series of movie clips of professional salsa dancers. The slower they got the hotter they got. A couple of the clips got reeeal sloooooow. Whew! Sex in a bottle!

I'd bet that the Panama Department of Tourism got a shot in the arm out of that one.

There were several fresh fish markets in town. We introduced Chrissy to fresh grilled seafood, lobster po-boys, fried whole softshell crab and charred, butter-soaked tiger prawns. She called me a dirty bastard but kept eating. He, he he! Welcome to the dark side, daughter.

We all piled out of our bunks each morning and did Tai-Chi then I started into my forms. The first time Chrissy watched bug-eyed for a while and then shook her head.

Later she told me "I was going to try to try to match you in forms but I had no chance keeping up with you. What the hell did you study?" I gently smiled at her. "I spent years stationed in Malaysia--two consecutive tours. I became proficient in Shotokan, Tae Kwan Do, Kumdo, Wushu and Silat."

She blew her wind out and shrank a bit. "Holy shit. Don't get pissed at me, eh?"

I laughed and hugged her.

"A master teaches in joy. Discipline to the degree that you watch each arm and wrist movement, each leg and foot movement, is for beginners. When you practice your katas and feel joy welling up from within we will talk again."