Carry a Cane
“This has been a great Father’s day present,” John said as he and Sam left the casino.
Sam nodded, pleased that his dad had liked the suggestion of a father-son fishing trip. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dad. And with Mom at that medical convention, this was the perfect time. We don’t have to leave the casino this early, you know.”
John shook his head. “It’s late enough already, besides, I broke even. Time to quit.”
Sam had been playing blackjack when his dad showed up at the table and declared it was time to go. The evening was still young as far as Sam was concerned, but he folded amicably and they headed for the exit.
“What time do we have to meet the charter boat in the morning?” John asked, sounding more cranky than usual.
“As early as seven, but as late as nine. It’s our boat for the day.” Sam looked sideways at John, checking his knee and the cane John was leaning heavily on. “How’s the knee?”
“Hurts like hell.” John snapped. He responded so quickly Sam knew he was telling the truth. “Next time I think I’m young enough to play football with you boys, remind me that I’m too damn old for that sort of shit.”
“Not me, Dad. That’s Mom’s job. I’m staying out of it. You know, we don’t have to go fishing again tomorrow if you’re not up to it.”
John shook his head. “No, I might as well go ahead. We came to fish, didn’t we?”
Sam nodded. “Just remember to take those pain pills Mom gave you.”
“Hmmrph.” John made an incoherent noise of disgust. “If I do that I can’t drink. And what’s the fun of being out fishing on a boat all day if you can’t drink?”
Sam smiled. He was enjoying this more adult relationship with his dad now that he was out of college. “Maybe take one tonight then, so you get some sleep.”
John gave a low whistle as two young women rounded the corner and headed down the sidewalk toward them. Their attire and their walk left little doubt as to their profession. One was a tall willowy black girl, the other a petite blonde with a low-cut top that showed off ample cleavage. It was obvious that the women were sizing them up as well.
“Hello boys,” the blonde purred as they approached the two men. “Out looking for a good time?”
Before Sam could say no, the black girl had sidled up next to him, taking his arm. “I’ll bet you really know how to show a girl a good time,” she said, rubbing against him so close he could smell her overpowering perfume. The blonde stood in front of John, letting him get a good peek down her blouse.
“Why don’t we go back to your hotel and party?” she suggested, looking up at John. “You’re a big fellow, aren’t you, and I bet you’re ready to play.” As John tried to say no, she reached forward and grabbed his crotch! The view of the woman’s well appointed breasts had interested that part of his anatomy nicely and given her plenty to hold on to. That was completely unexpected! John didn’t know how to react to that. Then he felt something by his left hip. The woman was sticking her other hand in his pocket!
“Pickpocket!” he shouted, grabbing her right wrist while trying to push her away.
Sam elbowed the other girl and shoved her against the wall. She flailed against him, so that he was unable to come to John’s aid. He had enough to deal with on his own.
John tried to push the blonde away, her hand was still fishing in his pocket. Fortunately, he’d buttoned his billfold into his right pocket. All that was in his left pocket was a folded handkerchief. But she wouldn’t let go of his crotch, either. Without thought he pulled back and swung the cane.
Contact was made with the bridge of her nose and she reeled backwards. The trajectory of the cane continued upwards taking the blonde wig with it. The wig flew into the gutter leaving behind a decidedly masculine hairline.
“You hit me!” The voice was lower by at least two octaves.
“Damn right I did!” John pulled back the cane for another swing. Football might not be his game, but baseball was. The two thieves turned and ran, the smaller one pausing only to scoop up the wig from the gutter.
Sam got his breath back and put a hand on his father’s shoulder. “You okay dad?”
John took a deep breath, nodded and lowered his arm. “Yeah. And she was fishing in the wrong pocket for my wallet.”
“She? I think that was a ‘He’.”
John gave a short laugh. “I think you’re right. I also think we can avoid mentioning to your mom that we were nearly robbed by a transvestite hooker pickpocket because I was distracted by her great boobs.”
Sam had to laugh. “She was built well, wasn’t she?”
“Must have been the best money could buy. There must be quite a living in pickpocketing here.”
“Could be. Just do me a favor dad.”
“What’s that?”
“Any time you come to Costa Rica to fish, carry a cane.”
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