THE SKINNY HAOLE AND THE SAMOAN THROW DOWN

THE SKINNY HAOLE AND THE SAMOAN THROW DOWN

One of the first things I realized when I got stationed at Pearl Harbor in the mid 70s after Vietnam ended, was that the general public really had a distaste for the good old boys in uniform. These days people can hardly talk about the military without getting fucking tears in their eyes or throwing a huge military parade when a sailor comes back from a 3 month cruise to Australia. But not back then. Wearing your uniform in public then was like going on a suicide mission.

And man, did the locals hate the military in Hawaii. Especially if you were white: a honky, a cracker, pasty faced redneck, or a goddamn Haole (a person who is not a local, especially a white person - Google dictionary) - if you were white and in the military, you were an asshole.

In my apartment complex, if you didn't get down to the laundry room just when the cycle ended, a Samoan woman wouldn't think twice about taking your wet clothes out of the machine and tossing them on the floor. If you were stupid enough to say anything, she'd either go get a male relative to tear your head off or she'd just flat ass do it herself.

There were many neighborhoods and small towns on Oahu that you sure as shit didn't want to be in after dark if you were a white sailor.

I used to hang out at a couple of watering holes that they called "Korean Bars." They were the kind of bar where the waitresses were all Asian and they would sit down with you and chat if you bought them a watered down drink. One place was called Mary's Lounge and the other the Latin Villa. I boinked several of the waitresses from each place. Mary's had the sluttier waitresses but the clientele could be sketchy. At times the locals took over the place and if they got in a "let's kick some one's ass" attitude it wasn't the best place to be if you were a scrawny, gangly, white sailor. The Latin Villa was a little friendlier towards the military although they employed enormous Samoan bouncers who could ice you with one punch.

One of my roommates and I were at the Latin Villa and there were a couple of booths filled with a bunch of Samoans and man, the booze was flowing. The guy I was with, Joe, fancied himself a badass, and when he was coming back from taking a leak he bumped the back of this big local's chair and didn't apologize. And this dude was fucking big! Pro wrestler - One Man Gang - with a bigger gut!

He sat and glared over at us for at least ten minutes straight between taking guzzles off of  his bottle of Primo! I was shitting my pants but Joe kept acting like it was no big deal. "Fuck him! I'm not afraid of his fat ass!" although true be told I think he was getting pretty fucking nervous! This dude would wax his ass!

Finally, to my horror, he stood up, all 6'8 & 325 pounds, and started to lumber over towards our table! I was in the process of losing my mind when out of nowhere this other Samoan jumped to his feet and punched the dude square in the mouth. Both tables emptied and a Hawaiian hockey style brawl broke out & we quickly shot out the front door. I never did figure out what saved us - but I think what happened is that the other guy at the table who punched him thought the Samoan had been eyeballing him and not us. Either fucking way - we lived to see another day!

It's not to say that all locals were that way. I was on friendly terms with many of the locals since I was a steady marijuana customer who paid up front in cash and I made sure that I was always friendly and polite when visiting their homes to score, often bearing gifts of imported beer.

I had met a retired Navy Chief who had married into a local organized crime family (he actually had a sub-machine gun in his truck) and he invited me to a huge post-marijuana harvest party that was being thrown at a farm up on the North Shore. I was hesitant but he assured me that it would be no big deal since he would be there to vouch for me.

Well, that lasted for about two beers before he disappeared in the crowd of primarily giant Samoans and wild, drunken locals.

Then all hell broke loose!

Two Samoan women started yapping at each other and next thing I knew they were squared off and going at it like Mike Tyson & Mitch "Blood" Green. No catfighting involved! It was pure toe to toe action with left hooks, right crosses, uppercuts, and good ring generalship. The entire party formed a circle around them and cheered them on hysterically!

This wasn't good!! While the bout was going on, I did a quick head count and realized that I was the only white boy there, and the way the atmosphere had suddenly changed, it wouldn't take Einstein to figure out who was up next to be fed to the lions.

I casually stepped back into the shadows and ran like Steve Prefontaine back to my car & drove like a bat out of hell back to the safety of Pearl City.

Aloha!