ADVENTURES IN SAN DIEGO (part two)
As I did, they all sat, but as I fully placed my weight on my sore derriere I stood back up immediately. As officers and gentlemen they all stood with me. I was slightly embarrassed, I couldn’t sit, but if I remained standing so would they. So I sat down again but slowly and carefully. I remained seated as long as possible asking questions about their service, homes, and lives. Finally I could take the pain no longer, made some weak excuse to see out the port window and pleaded “please you don’t have to get up, because of me.” But as I stood they all stood with me. It would go this way for what seemed hours, but was actually more like a mere 45 minutes.
Jim had persuaded Linda to travel down to San Diego, the ship’s ultimate destination, because he would have a weekend pass. Linda had said that she wouldn’t even consider it without my going with her. I really had no desire to go to San Diego that weekend, but Jim insisted he could get me a great date.
We left that Saturday morning at 4am, for the rather long drive to San Diego. Once there I was introduced to Daniel Hampton, not his real name, for reasons that will be all too painfully clear. He had to work that day, so we were a threesome; Jim, Linda, and I, until that afternoon when we gathered at Dan’s beach house for a BBQ dinner. He seemed a fine man, well established, and had a fun personality. The conversation, the food, the entire ambiance was quite enjoyable and by midnight I went with Dan to Shelter Island in the harbor to Bali Hai, we would float gardenias in the sea, a tradition that speaks of good luck being offered, and we laughed the night away. It was early morning when Linda and I left for home, with no sleep. We did stop on the way home at the Colonial Kitchen for a nice big breakfast and undoubtedly due to the lack of sleep, we roared nearly hysterical over a video playing in the dinning room. Tweedily tweedily Dee we marched out like the Marx brothers.
That was not the last of Dan, he would show up in San Pedro two weeks later, and ask me to come down to the harbor and meet his uncle, and parents. And there he persuaded me to once more travel to San Diego with Linda. This time we would have access to Daniel’s parent’s home as they would be gone, so on this night we got some sleep. Things still didn’t change much, the next Saturday I was at the beach with Ron, and to dinner with DeMarco that evening. Made the interview to work on “Banning,” where Linda and I were to play tennis in the background, and then another day on “Pistols and Petticoats,” with Gary. And then to my surprise on Thursday there was Dan, who took me on my birthday to the Castaways.
Here he would invite me again to come to San Diego. I quickly said I was not interested in another long drive to San Diego, so he offered to buy me a plane ticket. He had it all planned: all the activities, events, and restaurants. I was to stay with his parents, whom I had already met, in their lovely home overlooking the bay. His father it turned out was of all things a Protestant minister.
So I drove to the Los Angles airport, which then was a pleasant, uncrowded low-slung building with a quaintness, and almost tropical feeling about it. Parked my mustang, and walked easily to the main terminal. This was to be my first airplane ride and I was looking forward to it. We boarded not through the expanding tunnels now provided, but walked to the plane’s gangway on the open tarmac. The flight was enchanting, as I looked out the window on a bright California August morning to see in the east the shoreline, with little white sailboats dotting the sea.
Dan dutifully picked me up at Lindbergh Field. I settled into my room with his parents, both truly lovely people. Who I believe were hoping that I just might be something special to their son. Then the two of us went to a lovely dinner at Sullivan’s, and then to see the rollicking and humorous play “Fantastics,” which was quite the rage at the time. To Del Coronado for dancing, and to the Islander to see Rita Moss. It had been a truly memorable evening, and I had enjoyed myself immensely.
It is then Dan asked me to go to his beach house as he had a surprise birthday gift for me. We entered his quaint and typically small beach house, and he asked me to sit on the couch; as he then turned the lights out. I expected perhaps a lighted Birthday cake, or something along that order. It is then he turned a light on, and I was looking at Dan with his pants down revealing what should have been left covered. I was shocked, horrified, and confused, was I suppose to enjoy suddenly staring at a man exposing himself? Once I gathered my senses I became quite angry. I rolled to my right to avoid touching him or anything else and stood shaking, but able to loudly shout, “What are you doing? How dare you!” I uttered with venom, and heatedly uttered several other choice phrases best left to your imagination.
I wanted out of there so bad. I do have a temper and it was really in evidence that night. I knew I was essentially trapped in his house, with no transportation, and in an area I didn’t know. Fortunately, he realized his obvious miscalculation, as I threatened to make this known to his parents, and that he should take me immediately to his parent’s home. He obviously had completely miscalculated who he thought I was. But in truth I know no woman that would possibly succumb to such a perverse and juvenile tactic. Why, when a man shows apparently some devotion, seems genuinely interested in you and demonstrates a romantic side, provides an enjoyable time of dinning, dancing, and fun entertainment, would they stoop to such coarse behavior. This was definitely not my “someone.”
And I still had another day with of all people, him! And there I sat, as his father preached I guess a decent sermon. (Continued next month)
