ABSTRACT
Kevin is not a heavy drinker but during his final weekend in San Diego he was drunk for 72 hours. The blond, blue-eyed, 24-year-old Pennsylvanian was trashed on Friday night when all of us did “cocksuckers” (Kahlua mixed with liqueurs in shot glasses one goes down on, lifts, and drains with one’s mouth, not using one’s hands). He was buzzing at brunch the next morning, when I plied him with mimosas—and during this interview with Red Hook—just for fun. He was guzzling Bud that afternoon at Fiesta Island while I chatted with Alex (see David, “‘Hard’ Not ‘Tough’”). But he was most celebratory that night, at West Coast, when we all took turns buying him rounds, and, at his civilian boyfriend George’s insistence, he stripped down to his white Calvin Klein briefs. The popular corpsman pretended to be bashful about wearing only his skivvies in the dance club, but the real cause of his embarrassment was that he could not lose his very noticeable hard-on. All night.
