Mardi Gras Sailor©
Story by Richard Barber
Continuing story of Mike the sailor.
Part 01, Off to New Orleans

After my time with the Pacific Fleet, and my frequent stops in the Port of San Francisco, I was reassigned to the Atlantic Fleet and stationed in Key West, Florida. I had some extra ‘liberty time’ coming to me, and decided to make a jaunt to New Orleans during the Mardi Gras. I saw a bulletin on the rec-room bulkhead that one of the sailors stationed on base was driving to Dallas, Texas during the same week, so I made arrangements to share expenses for a ride to New Orleans. Adams was going to stay one night in New Orleans with some Marine mates before heading on to Texas, then return just in-time to pick me up on his way back to Key West.

One of the Marines owned a small 2 bedroom home in New Orleans and shared it with several other Marines that were stationed with him at Pensacola, Florida. I would be staying at his home that week. It would be an opportunity for me to share, and be with other service men during my leave. New Orleans could be a wild and dangerous place for a single sailor, especially during Mardi Gras.

It was a long day's ride to the house in New Orleans, and when we arrived late that night we were both ready to settle in. Adams, my partner, wanted to leave early in the morning and was anxious to get some rest. Most of the other men were out partying, except for one guy that greeted us at the door, dressed only in his boxer shorts. He briefly introduced himself as McKinley, and directed us to one of the bedrooms and told us we were to share the large double bed in the center of the room. Against the other 2 walls were single beds that were being used by some other guests.

The place definitely looked like a guesthouse for men, but it was surprisingly neat considering 4 or 5 men were using the place. A few duffel bags were shoved under the beds along with pairs of polished marine shoes, here and there. I guess the marine discipline had finally soaked in, and the place was pretty well kept and in order. The bedroom had a large bathroom with an oversized shower. There was one large closet on one wall, and a large dresser and mirror rested against the other wall, next to one of the smaller beds. A few posters of women movie stars and pop singers were posted at different locations throughout the room.

Adams and I were not that well acquainted, but when I heard he was going thru New Orleans, I jumped at the chance to hitch a ride with him. He seemed like a nice clean-cut guy. He was single and perhaps a year or so older than I, and what I would consider as a ‘redneck’ Texas country boy. He was quiet, didn’t smoke, and liked country music. He was tall and well built. I had an opportunity to observe him in the shower one day at the barracks, and noticed he was very well hung, and had a hot looking butt.

It had been pleasant riding with him all day. Our conversation was typical navy talk, girls, sports and cars, but now we were tired and soon curled up on the bed and fell asleep.

I wasn’t used