JOE COMIN’ IN TOWN TONIGHT
It’s Friday night in Baxters Road in Bridgetown. Baxters Road is festive with street vendors cooking fishcakes, shark, and flying fish. There’s mauby, sorrel, and lots of Banks beers to wash down the flying fish and shark cutters. The streets are busy with young and old men liming, and there are plenty of girls just too willing to flirt with the boys. Some of the girls are regulars on Friday nights and some come out only when there is news that Joe is coming in town.
Two of the regulars, Rosita and Clementina are also on the block liming. Dressed provocatively in stockings, heels, fluffy garlands around their necks, and hats with feathers, they are the ladies of the night and owned Baxters Road.
Joe arrived earlier in the day on a submarine on the North point and he and several of his buddies had shore leave, so they headed for Baxters Road for some action. Joe and his buddies are all around 18 years old and had been in the rusty hull of a submarine patrolling around Cuba for the past three months and were ready for some action. At 6’1″ with sandy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes , Joe stood out from the rest of the sailors. He and his buddies read about exotic Barbados, beautiful beaches, spicy delicious foods, and the really gorgeous, hot women and they were eager to sample all the island had to offer.
Joe and five of his buddies caught the Naval shuttle bus and headed from St. Lucy to Bridgetown. The first stop was a rum shop in Baxters Road. They ordered a case of Banks beers, and bought shark cutters from a vendor cooking on a coal pot just outside the rum shop. The food was great , but the Banks beers barely gave them a buzz.
Joe and his buddies wanted more action so in a strong Southern drawl, he asked the shop keeper, “Ya’ll got whiskey?”
The shopkeeper replied, “No Joe, we en’ got no whiskey but sumting betta dan dat. Try a shota dis Mount Gay rum an’ see wha’ ya tink”.
“Hoooweeee!”! Joe hollered in excitement, “this is some good stuff! This is way better than that moonshine back home. Let’s have a bottle”.
After two bottles of rum, they scarcely noticed that evening had turned to night, the lights were bright and calypso music filtered out of most every shop. The sweet calypso and those beautiful women in their tight dresses wukking up was too much for these plastered sailors to handle. Back home in Mississippi, Joe and his buddies never mixed with blacks; but after the rum, the heat, the pulsating music, and the voluptuous winding bodies, they lost all inhibitions and decided to join in the carnival-type atmosphere. Joe and his buddies danced as poorly as Forest Gump, but they were not going to let this moment pass without having some native fun.
The sailors were having a great time and rewarded the ladies of the night by shoving $5 and $10 US into the cleavage of the women. Everyone was having fun until Joe pushed $10 too far down the bosom of Rosita.
Startled, she wheeled around and slapped Joe and started screaming at him. “’Wuh, heh! Wuh you tink I is, some common street whore? Wuh you en’had no business pushing you hand down deh lessing I tell you it was ok!” Rosita shouted in mock disgust. “ You disrespeckin’ me!”
The commotion got the attention of some of the local men too eager to pick a fight with sailors. Locals didn’t care much for the sailors because they brought plenty of Yankee dollars and the local men were shunned when Joe came to town. What followed was a big ruckus between the sailors and several of the local men. Fists and bottles were flying everywhere and white sailor suits became soiled and pink from blood. The fighting went on for another five minutes before the local police arrived to break up the fight.
The first police on the scene started the investigation. “I want to know right now, this very moment, who started this fight. Somebody gine get lock up tonight, in it ain’t me!” in her most authoritative voice.
No one admitted to starting the fight because none of the brawlers could remember why they were fighting. By this time and knowing what was to come next, Rosita and Clementina had disappeared the moment the cafufflement started. Suddenly, both the sailors and the local men realized they had been set up by the two women and found themselves fighting over a lost cause. Both sides started laughing and hugging each other, and apologizing.
Joe, was sober after the licking he got and worked up a good appetite. “How about you guys join us for some flying fish cutters and mauby?” Joe said gleefully.
“Ya mean wunna en’ vex wid we after we tro some licks in wunna tail?”
“Well I don turn down gud food, get me one o’ dem fish cutters, some mauby, and – pass de hot sauce ”
Stan Brooks