Satchiko

Satchiko was the wildest, craziest, person I had ever met. It took thirty years to find someone even close to her equal, but after my divorce, I became friends with Claire, of St Petersburg Beach, FL.

Other than one, typically Asian, and another blonde, blue eyes, they were soul sisters. Both were Large Ladies, not fat, just built big. Tits, ass, all of it. Both were my height, and both outweighed me. Both could probably kick my ass, no, either COULD kick my ass!

Satchiko was quicker to show her tits, (neither ever wore a bra, despite 38DD's), but Claire was more positive. She would show hers, anywhere, anytime. It didn't have to be an embarrassed Sailor, first time away from home. Different ages, different places, and different time controlled both of them. I really believe that Claire started the strong movement for beads at Mardi Gras, but that may have superceded her visit by a few years. Claire loved to tease, just as much as Satchiko.

They were some of the first enlightened women of the movement, they just didn't hate men. Helen Reddy was singing their song; she just didn't know the real words. Both were WOMAN completely independent, but enjoyed company, as long as it was on their terms. Both scared me to death, and there are not too many challenges that I back away from, neither man nor beast. I'll take on any bunny rabbit, or Wile E. Coyote anytime, anyplace. Meanwhile, don't try to steal from me, or lie to me, or hurt my children.

One little cocksucker cut my 8th grade daughter off during a trip home from school. She evaded him, (Thank God), but got his tag number.

We lived in a county enclave, she was accosted in the City of St. Petersburg. We called in a report, met with the cop, and I knew nothing was going to come of it. I had a friend on the St. Pete Police Dept., that got me the asshole's address. Based on his tag number.

St Pete Police warned him, but I met him with a .44 magnum under his nose, (leaning over the top of his Camaro), and promised him that the world was not a big enough place for both of us if he ever bothered my daughter again. I probably should have just shot the son-of-a-bitch, the world would have been better off. I have to admit, however, I have never seen his name on any sex-offenders list. Believer? Maybe so.

I had met Claire on a fishing trip. My across-the-alley neighbor, Mike had finally come around, and became friendly. He was absolutely the hardest get-to-know person I have ever met. And the best friend I ever made. Peoples Gas Company, in St. Petersburg, FL, employed him. Mary, Mike's wife was much easier to meet. She talked over the back fence, and had welcomed me and my Japanese wife (THREE KIDS) to the neighborhood.

Finally, Mike and I realized we had a common enemy, Snook, Redfish, and Trout. We realized that we must catch the occasional Flounder, and might be drafted into cast netting for Mullet. He was the penultimate fisherman, and had grown up in St. Pete. I had lived across the Bay, in Tampa for seven years, and had become a pretty good fisherman in my own right. Even though he was ten years younger, we became the ultimate Fishing Buddies, and confidants. Neither would dare to war on all the Deep Denizens without the other's company.

Being a serviceman for the Gas Company, as well as a total knowledge of all the waters around St. Pete, he took me on a mid-week night to Blind Pass. There was a really old beer joint; it had the fold-up windows, closed upon closing that was right at the mouth of the Pass.

One of our big jokes was his statement "I used to ride my bicycle here and fish" Lots of jokes when fishing was poor, lots of time these "bicycle holes" paid off.

Mike, fisherman that he was, noted that they had an overhead light that shined into the water. That means baitfish, which means war on the trout. (Spotted Weakfish, for those who are unlucky enough not to have fished for them). When we arrived, it was a slack tide, just before change. Now anyone knows, that is not the time to wipe out trout divisions, so we settled inside at the bar (10 stools) and had an absolute angel serve us a beer, Actually she looked as beautiful as an Angel, but there was this dance in her eyes!! DEVIL WOMAN!!!!!

We drank a couple of beers, played Willie on the jukebox, ate a hamburger, and talked to Claire. I even beat him at pool, not all that hard, but I liked it. He beat me all to hell at fishing. All the other patrons of the bar were on the seawall, beating the water to froth. Baitfish were everywhere, and in the shadows of the lights were some really fine fish.

Mike and I had stopped at O'Neals' Marina, and brought bait shrimp with us. Seems the Denizens of the Deep did not want a Smorgasbord, they wanted our shrimp. We each caught 10 four pounders, and decided to engage in the wonderful world of admiring Tits,Ass, and an Angelic Face. We were still the only inside customers at 10:30, and Claire decided to close. "Follow me," she said, and that's how we wound up at the "Beach Lounge". Follow me led to numerous "Jack Daniels" that night, and enough in to future to halve my children's inheritance.

Sipping Jack Daniels and ginger ale that night, I thought of Satchiko.

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In my first year in Japan, I had known this remarkable lady for some months, and despite teasing, terrorizing, and outright lying to each other, we had never hooked up.

I had gone regularly to patronize her establishment, but never had any extra money. Money was the language, in this particular place and time. I guess it still is, but total oblivion if you don't have a quarter, (about Y100) is not the standard today. I have seen mothers feed 4 children on that amount. Matter of fact, I still enjoy doctored up Ramen Noodles. Yes, they came from this place and time.

Finally, prosperity. Time, and past pay records (with only minor withdrawals) finally caught up with me. Back pay came through, and I was flush. I bought a car, a 1951 Ford Tudor. $200.00. Try that one for your first car.

Proud Pappy!! Now I can offer my friends and various and sundry acquaintances a 1 mile ride from the barracks to the Supply Department, and back.

Also, I don't have to pay the exorbitant fee of Y100 to catch a taxi! (Actually, it was just about a wash, as gas was only .09c on the base. 100Y per liter, {1.00 plus per gallon} on the Japanese market. Aren't we lucky?!!)

As long as I live, I will never forget one morning, when I had Fire Patrol the previous night. Fire Patrol was conducted at the barracks, one mile from the Supply Office. I also had to relieve the phone watch at the Supply Office, so I was out and about a little early. I have no idea what made me look into my rearview mirror that morning, but I stopped the car and saw a sight that I will take to my grave. It had snowed, on Mt. Fuji, the air was clear and cold. I get goose bumps now, thinking of it, but that sight was the total mystique of Japan. I use something similar as my desktop today, although my desktop picture is from the opposite side of Fuji.

Fuji... Fuji is mystical, and a long honored part of Japanese Culture. This is a perfect, symmetrical mountain, volcanic origin. As far as I know, it has not erupted, in ages. There are climbing tours that will really work you out. To stand, and look at the crater, is a trip. Not as much as seeing it shrouded by snow, as I did that morning. Lifetime experience.

Okay, I bought wheels. But first, I had to get it registered. Now the Base Shore Patrol wouldn't let me anywhere near the fence without insurance and a safety check. OK, I am legal on the Base. However, one little aside, I had to get a sticker from the Japanese Government.

Trip to Yokohama, people with kamikaze intentions in my road-space, driving on the left side of the road. Total terror.

I arranged a full day off, taking one of my leave days. I left for Yokohama about 8:00 am, showed all the necessary paperwork, and started back to Atsugi about 10:00. Road Work. Mama-sans waving traffic, paying taxes with labor. The Kwanto Plains area of Japan is some of the richest as far as rice farming, but as a base for roads, they suck. Every mile was stop and go. In the left lane. With crazy people. Big Trucks, and three wheelers that I would demolish, if I were not careful. Bicycles everywhere. No one paying the least attention to courtesy on the road. These nice, bowing, totally

Courteous Japanese were bullies when it came to any sort of transportation.

I got back to Yamato, the gate town outside the West Gate of the base, and decided that a Jack Daniels and water would be a welcome addition to my life. I was shot. Of course, I went to Satchiko's bar, where else?

Since this was mid-week, during the middle of the day, we were alone. After my shaking hand was stilled, and her patented handshake was completed, my confidence in the world back on track, we started teasing. Put up or shut up, and boy did she ever!

She left and returned shortly with a 70 yr old lady, and grabbed my hand. Showdown! We had teased for months. She took me to a local hotel, and I promise you, I spent two weeks there that afternoon. We had spent months building up a sexual tension, and this was the first good chance we had to excise it. First 69. First Doggy. First God knows whatever, but I promise you, that the little 19-year-old GA boy was fucked out when I stumbled into the barracks at 9:00 that night. My perpetual hard-on was cured, my tongue ached, and my dick was raw. My hairline receded 2 inches. She still had been willing. Me too, but it was just bravado.

She confided later that she was almost unable to move the next day, but I learned a lesson: If a big old, big tittied woman says she is going to fuck your brains out, believe her. I could have hidden my own Easter Eggs, my mind was so blank. If anyone in the world could have got me going again, it was Satchiko. I think she was smart enough to realize we would have probably fucked until there were some really bad consequences.

We decided to let that day be our Armageddon. I have never been so fucked out, and she told me that we both had a long life ahead, as long as we didn't fuck each other again. We still stayed friends, but we knew where the friendships lay, or laid, as the case may be.

After I left Japan, I came back on two cruises on theUSS Valley Forge. On the first cruise, I took leave and visited In-laws. Second cruise, I took four gullible young men to meet Satchiko. Yep, she shook hands. Since it was not real busy, she decorated one man's head with her panties. Pictures, and all the legends. All the Sea Stories still had not been told by the time we reached Long Beach. Matter of fact, some are probably still being told, "There I was..."

That was the last I saw, or heard of Candy. She was working for Satchiko at the time, and I completely fell back in love with her. She would have none of it. "You have Japanese Ok-san (wife). You have Japanese Son! You have Japanese Daughter!

I had not seen this lady for over 3 1/2 years. How did she know about my recent life?

I never learned. Somehow she had kept up with my life, but would not infringe upon it. She knew, from the last parting, just how much I loved her. Where the information she knew about my family came from, including the info about a daughter I had never seen at this point, I'll never know. Just like all the history she never told, I still do not know.

She loved me enough to turn loose, but never enough to cling to me.

When we got back to the ship, we were a little early. Surprise, surprise, our Division Leading Chief was manning the after brow. He was so pleased that I had taken these young men under my wing, and took them shopping. We were all carrying packages, as it was the Japanese custom to wrap all purchases. What he didn't realize was, that all 5 of us were carrying 6 bottles of booze each.

This helped, on the long, long, voyage home.

I learned a lesson from my afternoon with Satchiko, and I applied it to Claire.

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Claire and I had gotten pretty close, and the situation needed clarification. Put Up Or Shut Up!! I told her the story, and how much I loved her, but that I was afraid to make love to her. I told her that I was afraid that if I didn't perform to expectations, she would probably whip my ass. She laughed her ass off.

She totally understood, and said. "I might whip your ass on general principles, but for now give me a hug" Two totally unique ladies. Twins, 10,000 miles and 30 years apart. A man would be lucky to meet one, much less two. They, like Candy, will go with me to my grave.

The End