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He added: "Yup, but now it's time to pull that little fella back into his little cotton cock-pit, right?"I laughed again, and he patted his crotch and...sighed. "See ya inside, guy," he yelled before stepping back into the Malibu.I chuckled, said something un-memorable, then retreated to my plane. Alone now as I waited for Customs to arrive, I pondered our short exchange and the extra attention we'd just given to our shared maleness. The simile of the "cock-pit" was as old as flying, but hearing. "Sweetheart, I'm going to go down the beach a bit and go to the bathroom and then take a quick bath." OK hon, just be careful." I will." I gathered up a bar of soap, a washcloth and towel and eased out of the tent. I looked over at Robert's tent and it was dark and I assumed that he was already asleep so I quietly crept about twenty feet down the beach and stripped out of my clothes then walked behind a bush, squatted and pee-ed. Finished with my business I walked down to the river and waded. "We can't simply hover there while you do a leisurely check. Landers go down and they go up and they even go sideways, but they can't sit still in mid-air." I shall be as quick as I can," the colonel said.For the balance of the descent there was virtually no conversation. As Igwanda had expected, both visual and ultrasonic observation revealed nothing of note—no hidden groups of natives, no antipersonnel devices, no subsurface tunneling, merely the same open field that had greeted the Argo. He told her it was a different band this time and that she'd probably like them as well as the last one they'd gone to hear and dance to. They arranged to meet in Anaheim, at the Anaheim White House, to go to dinner. Sonny told Sandy that it was a dressy kind of place and that he'd be wearing a dark blue suit. When they got to the restaurant, Sandy was impressed with how fancy it was. They ate in the Richard Nixon Room, their view was mostly of a burger restaurant next door, but the food was.
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