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an Exotic Encounter

Mike Brennan

    This morning began like any other I had experienced docked in a foreign port during the first year I had been stuck in the prison system which masqueraded as the United States Navy. I awoke around ten in a seedy Thailand hotel room. It had cost me about twenty bucks a night in American currency. I shook off the dregs of last night’s late night booze binge, to enjoy an absolutely perfect bowel movement, a hot shower with a little masturbation included, and a close shave with no nicks or cuts. I dressed slowly, smoked a Camel Light, and drank a cup of instant coffee. My window overlooked the city of Bangkok, which I admired for the strange beauty of the foreign metropolis which seemed like an entirely different realm of existence when compared to my parent’s small-town in bum-fuck, Michigan. I relished the confusion and loved the disparity.
    My buddy, Bobby, who I had left the ship on liberty with, was lodged in a separate hotel about a block away. We both chose clever pseudonyms to check in with and arranged to meet back on the ship later on. It made perfect sense since neither of us wanted to cramp each other’s late night festivities and it was an order to have another sailor with you at all times I you wanted to leave the ship at all. My thoughts quickly shifted towards breakfast and where to eat it. I knew there was a McDonalds around the corner and decided fast food would suffice. It was an obvious choice compared to accidently consuming some spicy hot Thai food I might encounter in another restaurant. It also would aid in counteracting the scorching hot dinner and river of whiskey I had consumed the night before. I reached the joint, with some smoker’s cough struggles, and ordered up a plate of hot cakes. It was simply a bit of light food to counteract a throbbing head and quivering stomach. Since drinks here cost only about a U.S. dollar a pop, and a woman’s company cost just barely a bit more, it was quite easy for a red-blooded American male to overindulge.
    The meal was enjoyable, but I still had difficulties digesting the pancakes drenched in maple syrup. I left about fifteen minutes later, as I had been savoring my cheap coffee, and absolutely loved the fact that I could smoke inside here and everywhere else I went in this country. In some ways I often found more liberties in strange and often communist countries. Liberties outside of United States customs and morals are my constant goal and drive in life, hence, why I joined the damned Navy in the first place.
     I knew I had to drink a Bloody Mary or something similarly vitamin rich to calm my jangling nerves. Of course there was a bar about two doors down, although it wasn’t much more than an umbrella covered cabana surrounded by a half-dozen stools. I walked up, took a seat, and ordered up some medicine just as I have done so many painful mornings before. Five people sat at the bar, but I was the only American, a fact I absolutely cherished. I prefer to be a stranger in a strange land. I concentrated on receiving my vodka and cranberry juice, since they didn’t have tomato juice, and after a downing a couple good swallows, I noticed the beauty sitting across from me.
    Her hair was as black as midnight; her skin was as olive as if she had French-kissed the sun with her entire body. She took notice of my obvious attentions and slowly walked over to me.
     “You like what you see honey?” she asked with a heavy Thai accent, while licking her lush lipstick laden lips.
    “You know it, honey. You really are beautiful,” I responded, wondering how much this encounter was going to cost me. I was a military man after all, and after three weeks at sea, I had money to burn but still didn’t want to lose it all to a manipulative yet attractive whore.
    “Do you have a room around here where we can go?”
    “Yeah, babe, I got one just down the street.”
    “Well, would you like some company?”
    “Definitely,” I replied, before she leaned over and kissed me, causing an eruption of excitement in my crotch, as if I was a teenage boy slow-dancing for the first time at the junior high school prom.
    I paid for both of our bar-tabs and guided her down the street to my room. As soon as I closed the door, she stuck her tongue down my throat. She slowly undressed me. Finally naked, I pulled her shirt off with little effort, and struggled with the snaps of her bra. I finally got it off and licked at the nipples of her perfectly supple little breasts. She moaned slowly while I fumbled with her mini-skirt. I dropped it down around her ankles and then off her bare feet, and it was then that I noticed the strange bulge in her panties. This woman was a fucking man!
    “What the fuck!” I screamed.
    “Whatever honey,” she yelled back. “I know you love it baby.”
    Without thinking, I picked up the bedside lamp and hurled it at the monstrosity posing as a beautiful woman. I didn’t intend to hit it in the head, but I did, ultimately bashing the left side completely in. I was surprised how I could be so hung-over and still manage to hit an object dead on target. She fell like a thrown stone, bleeding all over my cheap hotel carpet. Fearing that I killed it, I knelt besides it and tried to take its pulse, as the blood oozed everywhere.
    Fearing retribution from God, I gave the creature mouth to mouth CPR though it disgusted me to the point of vomiting. It took me about a minute till I realized it was dead. I gave up and decided I needed a drink. I drained the dregs of last night’s Chivas Regal bottle, while staring at the horrific mess I had created.
    I took the elevator down to the front desk and told the clerk that I wanted my room for another night. It wasn’t a problem. There were no pending reservations. I paid for it in cash and was extremely thankful that I had initially booked the room under a fake name. It was a rush for me. My ship was setting sail first thing in the morning. I never would have dreamt I would ever want to, but I knew now I was going to get away with murder.
    The creaky elevator took me back up to the second floor and I entered the room. I threw the body in the bathtub, and attempted to clean the carpet with some hot water collected in a little white ice bucket. I quickly packed up my meager possessions, catching myself zoning out about the situation during the packing process, and finally realized what I had actually done. I never would have thought I was capable of anything quite like this. All I had with me was a back-pack worth of filthy liquor, ocean spray, and sweat tinged clothing and a small shaving kit. So with what little I was carrying, I knew I wouldn’t draw suspicion from anyone as I was leaving.
    I hit the streets running, wandering from bar to brothel to bar and back again, until somewhere close to the stroke of midnight. I found my liberty buddy, Bobby, swaying around drunkenly and talking to a street walker on the main street of the red-light district and told him in no uncertain terms, since it was very obvious that I was way more wasted then him, that I had to get back to the ship so neither of us would get in trouble. We staggered back to the ship and up the gangway as I stumbled along in a haze. He helped me into our divisional berthing quarters and aided me while I tried to get myself ready to sleep. Once in my bunk, I thought about possible fingerprints, DNA evidence, and anything else I could have left behind. I reassured myself with the thought that I had only killed a man that manipulated me, and that this was as accidental a killing as I could possibly imagine. It still wouldn’t work. I thought about how my next five months were going to be sent sailing around the Persian Gulf. It was going to be hot as hell but no one over here would know we were there. This I could be sure of but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the real and eternal hell was awaiting me. I was sorry. I had never been so sorry.
    But I knew I would sail away from here in the morning. Karma could kill me but I knew all I could do was sail away from all this...



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