One of the things I laugh at are woman with false virtue and false indignation.

I got into hot water a couple of times when I lived in Kodiak. In fact I narrowly missed getting my ass kicked more than once.

The fleet was out and as a result so were most of the men. It was a girls night out so to speak and I was in town sitting in a bar listening to four woman sitting at the bar. Three were griping about their husbands and one was commiserating with the other three. The one was happy as a clam with her mate and made no bones about it. She adored her husband.

The head bitch was showing off some piece of jewelry and said it had come as a result of some certain sexual favors granted to her husband.

Just then a hooker sitting off to one side left to troll somewhere else. She quietly got up and left as discreetly as possible.

The head bitch saw her leave and as soon as she was out of earshot said, "I hate women like that."

"So put her out of business," I said. "It's economics 101. I YOU start servicing the fleet for free she will likely leave town."

The entire place busted up and the bartender blushed a bit and commented, "He DOES have a point. She is only here because there is money to be made."

The queen bitch was pretty upset and just said, "Yeah, well."

"Yeah, well, nothing." I shot back. "Truth is you're afraid of the competition." As soon as he figures out he can get serviced better and for a lot less than your new piece of jewelry cost you're going to have to compete."

There was a lot of embarrassed laughter and she gave me a snooty "Harumph." This was followed by a look of false indignation.

"You've already told us what your price is, Claris. "You told practically the entire bar. Sounds to me like you don't like competition."

Sheila Jensen, the woman that had defended her husband was trying not to wet her pants. She was sitting there quietly with a somewhat embarrassed look on her face.

"Sheila, Tom's a damned lucky guy to be married to you," I said. She smiled blushingly.

"Thank you," she said.

Tom Jensen had the smallest boat out of the four husbands of the four wives. It was a limit seiner. He was most likely the most successful of the four husbands as his expenses were lower. He also had a reputation of being generous with his crew shares and as a result always had a damned good crew.

"Sometimes a knight in shining armor shows up disguised in greasy coverall," I said.

Sheila laughed. Tom was known for his coveralls and his battered pickup. Sheila's car wasn't much, either. Both of them had enough sense to know that new cars in Kodiak were a total waste of money. Of course the other three wives got new cars every two or three years.

Sheila bailed out and was followed by the other three indignant woman. Sheila was likely headed home. The other three were likely headed off to one of the hotel bars that were off the beaten path. 

I knew there would be fallout and I stood a pretty good change of getting my lights knocked out. I had one thing going for me. There were a number of regulars there that had heard every word. 

One well preserved older woman that kept herself in excellent condition and immaculate came up to me. "Piccolo, you go where angels fear to tread, she said. "You were 100% right but likely there will be hell to pay. Those three will tell their husbands you insulted them and tell them half the story. Watch yourself. Doris is tending bar tomorrow night and I'm going to cover for Lois who needs the evening off."

The fleet returned in dribs and drabs. The first one I encountered was Tom Jensen. I wandered into Tony's and saw him. He saw me and grinned. "I already heard," he said.

"Then what are you doing here?" I said. "Get some flowers for Sheila and go home to that woman!"

He looked confused.

"You didn't hear the all of it," I said. "Sheila defends you like an attack dog."

He smiled. "She's meeting me here. We're going out tonight."

"I wondered why you were not in coveralls," I grinned.

I met two of the three husbands the following evening. One of them, one of them was married to Claris. He took one look at me, pointed at me and said, loudly, "Pic! You insulted my wife!"

"She insulted herself," I shot back. "She was sitting at the bar showing off her new jewelry that she said you bought her after some certain sexual favors. Then she insulted a hooker. I simply said she didn't like competition because you could have gotten the job done professionally and for a lot less."

"True story," said a fairly loud voice. "I was there and saw the whole thing."

He looked at the bartender who simply nodded. So did a couple of regulars. Blaine, a friend of mine said, "He's right, you know. Sully told me she's pretty damned good. See if she'll give you a wholesale rate."

"You're damned right she does," said Sully. "It's a damned good deal!" Sully was one of those people that hid nothing. He was pretty blackmail proof because of it. I learned to hide nothing from him and if accused of something I generally denied it by saying I was somewhere else doing something worse. When Sully said the hooker was worth the money the whole place cracked up.

The two men left in embarrasssment and I knew I'd heard the last of it. They knew that if they stuck it to me they would look a lot worse than they did. In time, both of them ended up treating me with respect.

Aftermath.

Cloris was eventually kicked to the curb after a couple more little scenes. She left town shortly after the divorce was finalized. Rumor had her in Anchorage living with a drug dealer.

The other two guys probably has some serious words with their wives that night. I don't know what happened. I do that one of the guys lost his boat to the bank the following year. He survived. The other lost his boat at sea with all hands. I knew three of them. I attended a memorial service for two of them at the Anchor Bar.

Tom and Sheila raised a couple of kids and he managed to survive a career in the fishing industry. He sold his boat and went into semi-retirement a while ago and works nights as a janitor at one of the schools for a few hours a night for the insurance and something to do. His second oldest son followed his father's footsteps and survived a sinking. He left the fishing industry.

The hooker left town a few months later. Of course she left no forwarding address. A few months after she left a rumor went around that she was in Oregon, reportedly a hairdresser.



To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY