So after our joint dinner, we did some drinks... I did a spin on a dance pole.. you know, the usual. Then we walk up the street to find another bar. As we're walking a few blocks away, we pass a "Thailand Health Spa Massage" place. Some of the guys wanna go in. Fine. My sister and I wait outside. That's when this guy starts talking to us.
He's younger than his paunch suggests, and dressed like a bouncer–blue shirt and oversize leather jacket. He seems a bit sketchy at first because he talks a lot and fast. Anyway it comes out that he's shore police. It's fleet week-the navy is in town on shore leave-and it's his job to make sure no one gets arrested.
Basically, he explains, the navy has 20 personnel in the downtown/North Beach area where we were, and 30 in the Castro (gay capital of the world, if not the universe). They ask the (real) police to call them if any of their guys gets arrested, as they've been given expense accounts exactly for bail-type expenses...
That's not all that's involved though, he explains. There's much reconnaissance to be done beforehand. The extent of which he displays when the boys emerge from the massage place. They despondently report the lady in there looked aunty-ish.
Our shore policeman explains that they were sent to SF some time before the fleet arrived to scope out all the "places of interest" and find out where the best are, what they offer and at how much. Apparently Thailand Health Spa Massage still tries to keep the facade of a reputable place. Once you get led inside, that's when you can choose from a "menu" and make a few coded requests.. who knew!
Aah the might of the armed forces of the most powerful nation on earth...
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