jazee...@gmail.com
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Forgot to add - how could I possibly forget? The Jamaican kid I met also took me to a poolroom which had no pool tables, only snooker and billiards, and later I was drunk and he took me to a whore house I'm guessing where I woke up early the next day not remembering how I got there, only that I fucked one of the women even though I had no money, I remember that, and when we were done she got down on a small pot of some kind and took a long piss, her way I guess of cleaning herself out - and I woke up the next day in her bed with the other women sleeping all around. I couldn't figure out why she let me stay. I remember her looks. She was straight out of Africa, a buzz cut, a really broad face with huge lips, but of course all I cared about was the body. I was probably a pain in the ass to her, slobbering all over her, drunk as I was, plus young and dumb. But that's where the kid took me and dropped me off, and the next day I called my aunt and she came along with Parboo in his tiny convertible sports car and picked me up for the 60 mile ride from Kingston to the North shore which took about 3 hours as there is no highway, which is nice, and I was absolutely blown away by the huge green hills with goats and other animals grazing on them with peasants walking the sides of the roads carrying machetes. It was something else, something new to me. And yes, at that time the currency was English as they still owned the land. But it was poor back then as now. At that time, sure it hasn't changed much, the population of Jamaica was 97% black. A few chinks here and there along with some Brits and a few white Americanos. But in the city, aside from some of the business owners, it's all black. I got some looks, even had one guy ask me what I, a white guy, was doing in a black bar one night. But I had the same thing happen to me in South Central where a white buddy of mine co-managed an all night bar that was mostly black. I was in the rest room when a black guy at the urinal tried to assert his authority by saying, "Don't creep up on me, man", and when I assured him I wasn't, he demanded to know what I was doing in his bar, an all black joint except for my buddy who co managed the joint. I felt pretty out of place there and not at all comfortable, talking about South Central, not so much Jamaica. By the way, my aunt was of the artsy fartsy crowd. She hung mainly with people with cash, relative to the poor who lived on the island. One woman we went to see quite a bit was a Brit who was part Chink. Like most people with money, didn't even have to be rich, just relatively well off compared to the rest, to have a maid. I saw her one day actually slap the maid. I couldn't believe it. She also commanded the maid to get me some water and I said, "No, I'll get it", and she ordered me to "SIT DOWN", before ordering the maid to bring it. The slapping was over a piece of jewelry that supposedly went missing. It was something else. That kind of stuff still goes on. I guess it's part of the perk of being a maid in a relatively wealthy white person's home. Just the way it was, uh, is.
TJ