|Even this guy.|
No, this is a true story of what happened to me one 4th of July.
Okay, a joke for my non-American followers:
Q: Which country has the 4th of July?
A: All of them.
Anyway, it was July 4, 1998 and my ship, the aircraft carrier USS George Washington was visiting Cannes, France, on our way back to the United States, after a six month deployment to the Mediterranean Sea and that colon of the Earth, the Persian Gulf.
The 4th dawned steamy and bright, the sun a searing beacon (yeah, those Creative Writing courses were a steal).
A couple of friends and I decided to go ashore to "troll for rich people."
When I asked what that meant, one of my partners explained,
|"You sure you want to go look at boats, monsieur?"|
Since it sounded good to me and the other guy, off we went.
|NOTE: Writer's depiction only.|
Ours didn't have a red, poofy ball on his hat.
Seeing our chance, we engaged him in conversation. Once we started talking, it was clear to us he was British. So, it was surprising when he said, "Happy 4th of July!"
Not wanting to be rude, I returned with, "Same to you! Uh...no offense."
"None taken, mate."
And then he ran me through with a cutlass.
NOTE: I've inserted the British colloquialism, "mate," to make my English followers feel more at home. What's more, if I can work in a "bloody 'ell," I'll do so. Oh, yeah, he didn't run me through, either.
Our newfound friend explained to us all that there was on the boat. It had its own navigation radar, inboard motors which could make the thing almost fly, and berthing for a dozen people. It also appeared to have its own sweet bar.
After about 15 minutes, we thought it was strange that he hadn't invited us aboard.
Why became apparent when he finally said, "Well, I could talk to you blokes all afternoon, but I have to get the boat ready before the owner returns."
NOTE: Bonus use of the term "blokes." You're welcome. Mate.
And then he returned to his duties.
So, we had wasted a quarter of an hour chatting up Percival the Boat Boy.
Oh, bloody 'ell.
NOTE: Told you I'd try.
EPILOGUE: Our efforts weren't ultimately wasted, though. Nearly despairing of our efforts, we
|Yeah, no shit, his name is Andre Assous. |
Go ahead. Google it.
No, I do not know zis Penwasser of whom you speaks.
Like a pump?"
But, that's another story altogether.
Okay, okay, since it is Independence Day....