In the following story, racial barriers are mentioned because they are relevant to the story. These differences are not about skin color but about an awkward situation being resolved humorously. Now that the public service announcement is out of the way, on to the story:
Weekends always brought discussions about what to do and where to go to have fun, especially if we wanted to get out of the barracks and away from the military base. One weekend, during a long holiday weekend, a few guys were talking about taking a little trip to one of the guy’s home town. That guy happened to be a friend of mine, Steve Layton. Layton had erroneously been sent down to Fort Benning from Fort Lost in the Woods (Leonard Wood) to attend the airborne school like me. Unlike the other two soldiers caught in that dilemma, Layton and I were assigned to the same follow-on unit at Fort Benning. As a result, we became pretty good friends. He and two of his buddies from his barracks were making plans to visit his home town. His two buddies were a guy named Parker and a guy named Lewis. (Now, I need to mention this here, I am White and the other three gentlemen are Black. This is relevant later.) They came over to the dayroom looking for me. Steve saw me and said, “Hey Masters, what’s up?” I responded, “What’s up.” “You doing anything?” “Nope. Nada.” “We’re planning a trip. Are you in?” “By, ‘are you in,’ do you mean, will I drive? That’s what you really mean ain’t it? Cuz, Like, seriously dude. Check it out. None of you has a car, right? So, like, seriously, you need me to drive. Am I right?” “Well, since you put it like that, yeah. Pretty much. Yeah, that about sums it up.” “That’s what I thought. So, what’s in it for me?” “Well, we can hook you up with one of the ladies when we get there, and we can take care of all of the beer that you drink. So, what do you think?” “Well, I’m going to have to think about this for a minute. Hmmm… Yeah, I think we can make that work. It sounds like a plan. When were you thinking of heading out?” “Whenever you’re ready.” “Okay. Give me some time to shower, and I’ll come over and get you. Cool?” “Cool.” We were on the road about a half-hour later. An hour later, we ended up in this small rural Georgia town. This town happened to have a large African-American community, where 7 out of ten people were Black. (This is still the case today according to current population statistics.) When we pulled into his home town, Layton gave me directions to a house on the far end of town. I was just going to wait in the car for the others to come out. But they wouldn’t have it. They said I should definitely come in with them. When we got inside, the first few minutes were rather awkward because I don’t think Layton’s friends in town were expecting him to bring an outsider with him. But they readily accepted me into their home, and soon we were all having a good time. Then, they decided to go to a bar. Also, by this time, they had us hooked up with girls, which shocked the hell out of me at first, and I think the other two guys as well. And they convinced us that we would all have fun at this bar. So, we said, “Okay, let’s go.” When we walked into the bar, however, things didn’t go according to the script. No. No. No. When the people in the bar noticed that someone so out-of-place walked in (like in all the movies where insert person of any race walks into a bar where everyone is all of another race and the place freezes), the whole place came to screeching halt. Now, you have to visualize this, the place was a pool hall/bar, and everybody had either a pool cue or a bottle of beer in their hands. And everybody in the joint seemed to know each other, but they definitely didn’t know me. I got the feeling at that time they didn’t welcome me much. Thinking there could be a fight, I said the only thing I could think of, “Hey guys, the fight isn’t fair right now. You all are armed, but I’m unarmed. Give me a minute, I have some nunchucks out in the car.” “What the hell are you saying, boy?” “I’m saying that nunchucks would make the fight more equal. You know. Like in Kung Fu movies. What’s the matter, don’t you watch TV? What, you’ve never seen a Bruce Lee movie?” “Is this boy crazy? What the hell is he tripping on? Hey, do you at least know how to shoot pool?” “I’ve played a game or two. Yeah.” “That ain’t what I asked you. I asked if you can shoot.” “Well, it ain’t legal to pop off rounds inside a building. But I’ve been known to knock down a ball or two.” “What the hell kind of shit is that? Shit. This boy talks cash shit. Show me.” “Rack ‘em, my man.” I broke and knocked a solid into a pocket. I called my next shot and tapped it in. As I was lining up my third shot, the dude walked over to me and said, “I like the way you shoot. Where in the hell did you learn to shoot like that?” “One of my crazy friends is on the Army shooting team back at Benning. He shoots pool and throws darts as well as he shoots rifles and pistols. He taught me how to shoot as he does. Granted, I ain’t as good as he is, but I’m pretty damn good when I have to be.” “Can you show me how to shoot like that?” “Sure, I can show you some things, but you’re buying the beer. Deal?” “Cool.” Together, we broke down some barriers over a pool table during another exercise in futility.
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