Army at North Harmony Church, Fort Benning, Georgia. I was seventeen years old and regrettably at the time, still a virgin. We were two weeks from graduation, and my buddies Ed Bristol and Juan Garcia took a weekend pass to visit Columbus, Georgia. A typical GI town of the late seventies, Columbus offered an endless selection of strip joints, tattoo parlors, and pawnshops. They catered to young inexperienced soldiers like me from Tinytown, Kansas; Nowhere, Oklahoma; and Jerkwater, Nevada. We checked into a cheap, dreary motel near the cornucopia of strip joints, eager for our weekend of fun and freedom. Juan left to get “supplies,” while Ed and I unpacked. The motel was a dump located on Victory Drive, with threadbare carpets, thin walls and drapes, and even thinner towels that felt as comfortable against your skin as twenty grit sandpaper. I would say it was clean, but the roaches would probably take offense. We were watching one of those pathetic seventies sitcoms when Juan abruptly returned.
What do You think about Zane's Z-Rated: Chocolate Flava 3?
