Chapter R: East Bay of Pigs – 2
This chapter compliments the previous chapter East Bay of Pigs – 1, and is a continuation. There are less post detailing technical involvements, and more post detailing encounters with local, state, federal and international authorities—the CIA. Moreover, similar to the previous chapter, the major statement that kicked off all this suspense and international intrigue was when I told Angie: “Our objective is to get Castro out of Cuba.” Despite this statement triggering law enforcement, they remained in the weeds. I surmise they feared a legitimate overthrow, or a significant embarrassment.
The Breakfast Date
On the third morning I kept my date with the chick I promised the previous day. As I entered the restaurant, she was already seated at a booth and waving frantically to get my attention. After ordering our meals, she wasted no time to ask what I did for a living. I briefed her about my past at IBM down in the valley, and informed her about my plan to establish a nightclub in Vallejo. Immediately, this revelation caused her to perk up and become over elated.
“How far are you along with this plan?” she asked.
“Just gearing up,” I responded.
“Do you intend to have live entertainment?”
“Yes, local stateside groups and bands from Cuba.”
“Wow! How do you intend to import bands from Cuba? I mean with the Castro regime and all?” she continued.
“It’s been done recently by another stateside group through cultural exchange.”
“The only thing I liked about those revolutionaries is ‘Che’ Guevara, the handsome one.” As the conversation proceeded I toyed with telling her that I was already being watched by U.S. authorities, because of the embargo against Cuba. I didn’t want to be forthright like I was with Angie, lest she jump up and run out of the restaurant like a screaming lunatic.
“I feel you should check with the State Department of Foreign Affairs first, to see what would be involved with such a blatant endeavor,” she recommended.
Rather than reveal more specifics, I felt I should cease at that point in case she was an agent out to spy on me. So I contemplated her recommendation as we departed. We agreed to talk again, that’s if we happened to bump into each other again over breakfast.
As she walked away, she suddenly turned and caught me checking her out. As is expected, she grinned. However, I was checking to see if she was packing a firearm. I assumed not, since I didn’t spot any obvious bulges. Meanwhile, several dudes at other booths and at the counter seemed to instantly and simultaneously raised their hands to their mouths, as if they were clearing a frog in their throat. With this action, I surmised I wasn’t as batty as I perceived myself to be.
In an attempt to end this fiasco, I acted on her recommendation. So, I had gone directly to the local police, then to CHPS (California Highway Patrol). Each of these two agencies denied any awareness of my being tailed or wanted on suspicion.
The visit to the local police station was a real doozie. I entered the precinct and went straight to the front desk and asked the receptionist was anyone looking for me.
She replied, “Well who are you?” After identifying myself she said, “Wait while I check and see.”
She went to the back offices and returned a minute later all pale faced—looking like she had seen a ghost. Obviously, she was nervous about my presence.
Then she replied with a trembling voice, “No sir. We show no record of you being wanted for anything.”
My best guess was that they were dodging me, and she was told to play along with their ploy; so they could see where all of this would lead.