Crazy Ensign

Tar eyes locked on the chalk at early past noon. She floated him a pass but he knew better. It was love across the board. She was a closer on the bit and he was driving. Dame with knobby knees and skirt up to there so's he could see all the way to Phillipino China. See-through frilly filly skirt with a flowered print. Walking away was a plus in this salty charade. He'd find her tonight when he got out of these casual whites. They'd run then, they would.

Carousel winding down as his brunette baby bay popped a perfect bubble dismounting that harlequin playhorse. She'd changed dresses but not her underwear. Nine months shipbound with nothing but men had made his nose a device preternatural. Cotton candy overtures and freshly pressed dress blues had her on the boardwalk by nine. Walking beside. Hands dangling close, thinking of double slip knots and worse.

"You have girlfriends over there?" The maiden asked it without flattening out, so he was harnessed. He eased but felt the bit. His skittish nature made him say, "Hell, yeah!" with the bravado of conquesting heroes the planet over, living and dead. Not a one of those yellow girls went without their salary for the night, but they all got together in that split second of harmonious disjunction, as if conjured up by some ancient spirit of love wasted, and caused his front runner to nose breathe audibly. No blinkers were hiding this blunder.

She was crowding him, but it was a disqualification right then and there. He was distanced but he didn't find out for another two hours and twenty bucks for dinner.