28 June, 1956 (Part 2)
I’ve saved Paris for last because it was the best. There, I had a marvelous time & made no bones about it. I even got a big charge out of Pigalle. The very first night we were there, we were stopped by a very pretty redhead in a fur coat. She was willing to take us all for 1,000 Francs apiece! Well!! That got things off to a rousing start. One of the three other guys kicked himself ever since for not accepting her offer.
In Paris, prostitution is taken as much for granted as the SUZE signs & the Eiffel Tower. Paris just wouldn’t be Paris without it.
In a restaurant we met Yvonne & Kitty. Kitty was heavy-set & spoke Spanish, so we got along beautifully until the time came when I had to decline an invitation to go dancing. Yvonne & Bob Schmall were getting along very well, too, & it was they who suggested the going someplace. Jim Bessette had run off to a movie with a Russian named Olga, who showed Jim a picture of her brother (in the Red Army) in front of the Kremlin. He endeared himself to her by yelling: "Yea, Bolsheviks! I’m a Bolshevik from way back" & drinking a toast to the Revolution—in vodka, of course.
It seems I am getting off the subject again. Good. I’ve grown tired of it all of a sudden, & there isn’t much more to tell anyhow. Maybe some other time…
Coutre & I have just been talking about our houses—the ones we’re going to have, that is. The more I think of my house, the more I am crazy about it & want it. Oh, well, someday I shall have the required amount of money. I know I want that house more than anything in the world (& surrounding areas).
Let’s speak of money now, for a moment—a topic which never ceases to fascinate me: As of the 1st, I will have $300 on the books. By the 15th I’ll have $350 on the books. With all the miscellaneous stuff I’ll gather, such as leave time, etc., I should come home with close to $500. School is about $300 a semester. Oh, well—anyway, I should have some money left.
Hooray! They have film on board again! How long it will last I don’t know, but I scraped enough change together to buy one roll. I have $29 loaned out, but aside from that, I’m broke.
Tomorrow we replenish (again)—at the cheery hour of 0600. Which means it is going to be one hell of a long day.
Every time I get my hands on a men’s magazine (Esquire, True) or any substantial mag with a fair degree of advertising, I paw through it eagerly, looking for the latest in men’s fashions. (I note they have practically done away with button shoes & spats. Oh, well.)
Coutre says hello, by the way. "Greetings, Salutations, & Know Ye…."
You know, there is nothing that gives a boost to the morale like a mail call—either a boost or a kick, depending on whether you get any or not. I like to hear from you both as often as possible, so write. Mother has been very good about it, but slips up occasionally, & dad could do much better. Also have Stormy drop a few lines every now & then.
P.S. No mail will probably leave the ship till we get to Cannes, so you’ll get batches again. Envelopes will be dated until the stamps run out, then there’ll be a long silence.