Dial A Sailor

Morrison continued his chatty discourse, "Hey Paul, Matt said he is going for beers when we get to New West.  What are you planning?"

Paul's eyes lit up at this suggestion.  "Beers?  Just beers?  I don't think so!  Matt and I are going to do something much more interesting than that."

Matt stopped shaving, "Pray tell Paulie...  What's this interesting activity you speak of?"

Paul responded, "Three words... Dial-a-Sailor."

"Oh, no!  We're not going to do that!"  Matt laughed.

Morrison asked, "Please remind me.  What's Dial-a-Sailor? Is that the thing some guys did when we last went to Vancouver?"

Paul explained with gusto, "That's right, they had it in Vancouver. It's when girls write their phone numbers on cards, and the cards are delivered to the ship.  Then, you check out the cards and choose the one you like.  You call the number on the card, and the girl takes you out for the night.  Then, at the end of the night, you get laid."  He was grinning from ear to ear while he said the last part.

Morrison was interested.  "These are just regular girls that want to meet a sailor?"

Paul winked, "Yes, that's exactly what it is."

"And these regular girls are all beautiful honeys?"  Morrison needed to know.

"Not all...  some are...  but they're all...  very...  how should I put this...  very horny.  That's the common denominator, and that's why Petey and I are going to do it."

Matt laughed.  "Have you ever done this before?"

Paul responded, "Yes, the last time we were in Vancouver.  I picked out a card and phoned a girl.  She came right to the ship to pick me up.  She was very sweet.  She took me home, and she cooked me supper.  Afterward, we retired to the bedroom for a night of sweet loving."

Morrison piped in, "Was that the girl that you said looked like Miss Piggy from the Muppets?  Don't tell me that she was your dial-a-sailor date?"

Paul had a stern look for Morrison, "At least I got something that night.  What did you do that night?  Spend the night with the Palm Sisters?"

An excerpt from Whiskey 601, a novel by Mark Nelson