Dancing At The Boobie Trap

by Billy Bob 'Launcher' Lary

Most Floridians know these landmarks. A lot of them think of them as eye sores, but to female-deprived subsurface warriors, they were a shrine.

The 'Boobie Trap' is a bar ( Designed specifically to look like a huge pair of tits... A bodacious pair of breasts someone just left sitting on the side of the road.) in which lovely young things dance around taking their tops off and perform various gyrating acts in front of these very same sea going adveturers, exciting them to the point of stupidity. There were several such establishments throughout Florida, the exact number I don't know, but I DO know of four.

One night in particular, sometime in Nov '79, about 3-4 months after I got married, I visited one with a bunch of guys from the Daniel Webster (SSBN 626). I had just converted from TM to MT at the start of this year and was determined that these guys gotta realize that I was still a TM at heart.

The night progressed pretty slowly... Guys drinkin', girls dancin', guys whistlin' and cat callin', girls still dancin', back 'n forth. We were being entertained into boredom. Next thing ya' know, one of our FTB girls (I can call him that, 'cause he ain't close enuff to do anything 'bout it) jumps up on the stage and commences to dance with one of the real girls. Oh man, the bouncers were there like RIGHT NOW, but since all he was doing was dancin', the girl signaled to those guys to let him be.

Well, he danced with her and even stripped down to his skivvies. Now let me tell you, when he started dancing, the place started hoppin', people started pilin' into the place and that bartender WAS workin'. So when this set was over the bouncers escorted our FTB outside. Heated words were exchanged but, no punches were thrown. Seems the bouncers forgot to look behind them until after they were outside... They were out numbered 4 to 1.

We all went back inside and JDAWG should remember this (even though he was just a little pup, he was there), another one of our shipmates decides he gonna dance too. This time, it was a "A" ganger... Short, stocky, looks (and smells) like a bull. Our next Fred Astire-wanna-be takes one step on his chair and one on his table (actually the edge of the table) and breaks the damn table top off, wackin his self upside the head so hard, he's down fer the count.

We took him out back to the beach and the fresh salty air brings him around. In true bubblehead fashion, we all go back in fer the rest of the night's festivities... The next morning, Mr. "A" ganger-table dancer wants to know why he has such a big egg on his noggin'. Minutes later, when we catch our breath, from laughin so hard, we tell him what he did. He had a good laugh ('til his head started to hurt worst). Love them dance halls and them dance hall girls, the beer, the girls, the friends, the good times.... Ahhh youth, to be young again and dance on the top of a table... With your drawers down around your ankles.

Billy Bob Lary