A MID-DAY CHAT
The masculine-as-hell military men surround me in a somewhat intimidating circle. Two of them, one ex-Army the other an ex-Marine, with distinct Georgia/Florida Panhandle accents, take the lead in the ensuing conversation, while the eight others check me out, flaterringly, from head to toe. Or, from tit to hip, in the case of half of them. They're undressing me in their mind. As I am them. I love military men--been awhile since I've been around them. I get jealous as Vanessa for being around them these past eight months.
Army: Well, well. You know about Vanessa?
Marine: You ain't no cop, is ya?
Me: I, no no, uh,...
A: He's just shittin' ya, relax there missie. Altho, what did you say your name was?
Me: <<<blushing>> Trudy. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sirs.
M: The pleasure is all ours, pretty lady. Now, does you come for Vanessa as friend or foe?
Me: <<<hesitation>>>>
A: C'mon now, Trudy, we'll be straight up with ya, but ya gotta reciprocate.
Me: Foe, sirs. Vanessa and I met and tangled in the States, right before she came down here. Well, we more than tangled. We had it out, claws and fists, naked, the whole nine yards. I didn't like how it went down, and I'm here to tell her so. And to do sumethin' about it.
<<<<<<whistling>>> <<<chatter>>>>
M: Well, yuz sure cum to the right place, but I don't as ya got the best timing.
Me: Sir?
A: So, Trudy, the thing is this. Vanessa, when she comes down here, well she interacts with us, or our wives, pretty much how she does with you, and with the same hurt feelin's.
M: She used to come down here and fight the military wives for money. Seemed like a good idea at the time, win-win for everyone. We get some entertainment, our wives let off some steam, Vanessa gets some cash.
A: Except the bitch, that bein' Vanessa, takes things too far, like she obviously did with you.
M: Makes herself not so welcome down here with the ladies.
A: So, this past January, she comes down again, we tell she ain't welcome no more.
M: So she says, how 'bout insteada fightin' our women, she fights Colombian women.
A: That's why we joshed ya about the cop thing.
M: <<<air quotes>>> "Colombian women" can be Colombian, Guatemalan, Salvadoran, Venezuelan. It's code for pretty girls who were drug mules, ya know, couriers, when they was minors and couldn't be jailed. But now they're turning 21, and that won't work as a livelihood anymore.
A: So they pay placement agencies, usually in cash but sometimes with their bodies too, apologies for the graphic language, ma'am, to get jobs in the Canal Zone.
M: They's lookin' to rub shoulders with divorced military men.
A: To score themselves a U.S. guv'mint lifetime pension, or half a share in one.
M: Lifetime benefits add up when ya start collectin' at age 22.
Me: Ya, I can do the math, sir.
<<<<<whistling>>>>>
M: No disrespect intended, ma'am.
Me: None taken, but what does this have to do with Vanessa.
A: Ya see, things is pretty bad in the drug game in these parts right now.
M: There's way more "Colombian women" aspirin' to be brides than there is lonely ex-soldiers.
A: So if one passes thru and ain't gonna make the cut as a bride, she has to find an alternate career pdq.
M: Or move on.
A: Some of 'em make a career as fight club, umm, "performers". <<<<more air quotes>>>>
M: Great career choice if you're pretty and good at it.
A: So Vanessa realizes this place is all about guys who want a caviar lifestyle on a Ramen noodle budget. So they move here, but get homesick for the States.
M: And they'll "pay up" if a white girl is fightin' 'steada 2 Latinas.
A: So she gets paid premium purses.
Me: I understand, sir. But a few minutes ago, you said my timing for wanting to confront Vanessa was bad. How so?
M: The premium-est purse is coming up in 4 days. This Friday.
A: Vanessa is fighting the reigning Colombian girl fight Club champ. A crazy number named Maria.
M: So she's not gonna be doin' and tangling on the side.
A: And if she does, she and the other woman are gonna have three thousand angry soldiers angry at being deprived of a fight they've pre-paid for.
Me: Vanessa fights in front of three thousand people?!?!?
M: Forty or so live. We pass around the video on closed-circuit TV.
A: Hafta pay to see it tho.
Guess I know what I'm watching Friday.
To be continued.....