June 5, 2003

The following is an excerpt from Buck Leafer's weekly column My Buck's Worth from the June 6th edition of "The San Diego Daily Telegraph."

Patriotism In Unlikely Places

    It seems like all of San Diego has turned out to welcome back the first fleet full of soldiers and sailors returning from the War in Iraq.  From the downtown ticker tape parades to the free hot dogs, tickets, and ball caps at "Homecoming Heroes Day" at Qualcom Stadium, San Diegans are proud to shower praise and gratitude on our dedicated servicemen and women. 

    Of course, sometimes patriotism like all the finer human impulses can be found in the most unlikely places.  Earlier this week, I visited the FoXXXy Ladies Show Club in the heart of San Diego's dockside Tenderloin district.  The Tenderloin is usually a dark and foreboding place lined with sex shops, strip joints, and rundown bars, but this week was different.  At FoXXXy Ladies, a huge American flag hangs from the Bud Light sign over the door.  Inside, red, white, and blue bunting lined the stage as strippers donned sailor's caps and strutted their stuff, gyrating lustily to patriotic songs by Toby Keith, Lynrd Skynrd, and Bucky Lovestump, as a full house full of sailors, marines, and airmen cheered wildly.  In case the average San Diegan didn't know it, the Tenderloin district - long known as a hotbed of prostitution, organized crime, and the drug trade - has a heart, and this week it is beating red, white, and blue.

    I had the chance to chat with Alphonse "Big Fish" Bonnoli this week in his usual booth in the back of FOXXXy Ladies, and he told me a heartwarming story of American pride and patriotism.  Mr. Bonnoli or "Fish" as he is known in the streets is a big, jovial man in his late fifties with a ready smile and a distinctive head full of heavily pomaded iron gray hair.  Although several times indicted and jailed on racketeering charges, Fish is a beloved and colorful local figure known as the "Unofficial Mayor of the Tenderloin."

    As a steady stream of soldiers and sailors filed past us arm in arm with scantily-clad strippers on their way back to the private booths for lap dances, Fish looked on proudly.  Leaning close with a conspiratorial wink, he shared a secret with me.  "Buck," he said, "Believe it or not, every sailor or soldier who goes in the back for a lap dance this week at FoXXXy Ladies will be getting a little surprise.  Sure, our girls will still shake it, grind it, and rub it down in the booths like always, but this week after they are done and the serviceman has cleaned himself up instead of stuffing a tip in the girl's sweaty, disgusting G-string, our girls are giving each and every GI a twenty dollar bill as a 'Thank You' to these brave young men who have risked it all for us over in Iraq."

    According to Fish, the big-hearted girls at FoXXXy Ladies aren't the only Tenderloin residents supporting our troops.

    "Honestly, Buck," the garrulous, Italian businessman explained, "Normally the Tenderloin can be a pretty rough place on a Friday night after the fleet has come in.  Everybody hears stories of sailors getting sapped, drugged, dumped, and shanghaied, but not this week.  From the sociopathic pimps to the humble corner pill pushers to the most hardened teen prostitute, we here are all proud to fly the flag for this fleet.

    "Just last night right outside this club  I saw a chief petty officer who had a few too many hitting on a transsexual hooker.  Normally, it would be a stop in a dark alley, half a blow job, and then a savage beating, but not this time.  Stevie - that's the she-male hooker - just smiled and took that young guy by the hand  and led him over to Madame Ruth's - a nice clean whorehouse - and tucked him in with two Asian girls and then picked up the tab leaving the young hero with a smile and a crisp salute.  Now that's what I call patriotism.

    "You got to remember, Buck, that like Americans everywhere we here in the Tenderloin thought our work - pandering, sneak thieving, or armed robbery - was the most important thing in the world.  Then one night you take a break from roughing up deadbeats, step back, and turn on CNN and then see these incredible modern day heroes fighting for their country.  That's when you realize what's really important, and it makes you proud to be an American.

    "Just this morning when we were opening up the club, a young marine private first class came up to me as I was hosing off the stage.  He looked like he wasn't old enough to finish high school much less fight for our freedom.  Well, he was kind of shy, and he said to me, 'Mister Bonnoli, sir, do you know where maybe I might be able to buy some drugs, sir?'  Usually, I would curse him out, slap him around, and then send him down the street to my cousin Gino to score.  Not this time!  I went back behind the bar and got out a great, big, fat bag full or drugs - uppers, downers, dope, coke - and I gave it to that young hero.  I said, 'Here you go, son.  Go blow your brains out and God bless you!  We're all proud of you!'  I just wish you could have seen the look of joy on that young man's face."

    If I didn't know better, I could swear that I saw big, bad Alphonse Bonnoli wipe a tear from his eye.  For my Buck's Worth, I say sometimes you run into patriotism in the most unlikely places.