"Whenever I go into a restaurant, I order both a chicken and an egg to see which comes first"

Friday, July 19, 2024

When The Secret Service Pimped For LBJ - Now, That Was A Service Well Performed

Insider information has it that the tomcatting Lyndon Baines Johnson used his Secret Service detail to pimp for him.  A man of enormous appetites and a busy schedule couldn't be bothered with the niceties of sexual pursuit, so he had the handyman do it, and the men around him were only too happy to oblige.

 

Johnson was not the only cock of the walk and in fact was the role model for many politicians to follow.  Eliot Spitzer, Governor of New York got caught with a tart at the Mayflower and had to resign his office, but insisted he had done nothing wrong, which of course he hadn't.  There was no law penalizing johns for their purchase of sex, and two consenting adults could do whatever they pleased in the bedroom. 

The public didn't see it that way.  No man in high office should consort with hookers, and should follow the example of John F Kennedy who bedded starlets, stars and the jewel in the crown, Marilyn Monroe.  Why couldn't Spitzer be more like Kennedy, a suave, sexy, persuasive young man enjoying his youth and the perks of office.

 

There was something smarmy and unsavory about this unattractive Jewish man rutting in the bridal suite when the dashing Kennedy squired his women in presidential style - on his yachts, at Camp David, and in the Presidential bed. 

So Johnson with the nation's business to do, the pillars of The Great Society to be erected, the war in Vietnam to be prosecuted, and the plight of the black man to be relieved once and for all, needed to have some pleasurable release at the end of the day.  The Secret Service men were with him at all times, sworn to a secrecy as inviolate as that of the confessional or the legal code of ethics, and quite willing to spice up their lives along with that of the President. 

Johnson had no particular preferences, according to the Secret Service reports unsealed after Johnson's death and the statue of limitations of the Freedom of Information Act, but liked variety and his annotated list was quite explicit.   

'Get me a nice hot tamale for tonight', one agent remembers the President asking ; or 'that sweet vanilla tart from South Carolina' or 'that Cajun cunt from New Orleans'.  He never went dark - that was too much for a Texan despite his commitment to the black man - and drew the line at cafe au lait Latinos and the occasional Turk.

 

Readers of the Johnson chronicles were surprised at the diversity of the sex trade in Washington.  Mexicans and Louisiana octoroons were expected, but a Turk?  Ceyda Demir was a half-Kazak half-Circassian line dancer from Istanbul who made her way to New York thanks to an international girly show.  She jumped ship, somehow got regularized with the INS, and moved to the profitable Washington sex market. 

She was a beauty, lovely Anatolian skin tone, slightly almond eyes, tall, full-bodied, and sensuous.  She immediately became the most sought-after girl in Madame Letelier's Foggy Bottom establishment; and one of LBJ's agents got wind of her through the grapevine.  She was too expensive for him, but would be a delectable, affordable snack for the President. 

'Speak Turkish for me', the President said to Ceyda, imagining her as one of Sultan Ahmet's harem, the dancing girl of The Thousand and One Nights, a pasha's treasure; so she became one of his favorites, and the Secret Service Agent promoted in rank but kept on call for Johnson's extracurricular activities. 

The image of the Secret Service for so long heroic, selfless, and courageous (think Clint Eastwood in The Line of  Fire) has been recently tarnished after the failure to prevent the assassination attempt of former President Donald Trump, again candidate for the office. Although the bullet missed by a fraction of an inch, the Service bungled the show completely, Keystone cops, the worst kind of mismanagement, bad intelligence, and horrible positioning; and there have been predictable calls for a thorough review after which heads will roll. 

'Those were the days', said a long-retired Secret Service agent who had been in Johnson's detail.  'Now there was a man', he said of his President, snickering at the likes of Jimmy Carter and Joe Biden - one who prayed, the other who had long ago forgotten what went where and how.  No, LBJ was a mensch, a prowler, a man to be admired.  Yes, the agents in his protective service were dutiful and careful when it came to security and protection, but the remembered Johnson's girls most of all, many of whom the President shared with them.  

'America is a violent country', the nonagenarian retired agent reflected, 'but there should always be room for pussy'. 

The old agent's eyes misted as he remembered the salad years, the halcyon years, the best years of his life.  'There was this one time', the agent began, and proceeded to tell of how the President got liquored up and wanted a harem, a centerfold, and he wanted the piece de resistance to be Ceyda Demir and as many of her Kazak-eyed, coffee-colored friends she could find. 

Lo and behold, the Turkish Ambassador had assembled his own stable of young women - the Turks were still mindful of the glories of Ottoman sultans and never demurred when it came to sexual delights - and professional colleagues being what they are, an unofficial lend-lease arrangement was concluded between the two secret services.  Kazakh and Uighur women were recruited, and the biggest unreported party ever seen at 1700 Pennsylvania got underway. 

 

The press of course knew about it, but had been jawboned and muscled by the President.  'I expect you to keep your mouths shut just like you did with Jack', he warned them, and the midnight revelry continued until he finished his term in office. 

Now, all this is not to take away from the important responsibilities of the Secret Service no matter how well or badly they perform.  Someone took a shot at Presidents Garfield, McKinley, Lincoln, Kennedy, Ford, Reagan, and now Trump, so the vigil must be maintained, and the dreamy-eyed agent reminiscing about the greatest tomcatter of all never denied it; but still, there were those gorgeous women in a share- and-share-alike time, one never to be repeated.  

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