Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. October, 1984. A 19-year-old sailor experiencing his first foreign port, as well as his first social situation outside rural Missouri. Back in the good old days, when everybody loved Americans and the things you might catch could be cured with a couple of shots of penicillin. But I digress....
There was a bar about three blocks off Copacabana Beach called Frank's Night and Day Club. They had live sex shows on stage, as well as hookers, many hookers, some of whom could be engaged, for a modest fee, to blow you under the table. There were probably 25 or 30 people there from the ship, including a few officers. They probably should have known better than to be there in the first place, but there they were, drunk as hell hanging with us enlisted guys. Then, three of them, including a lieutenant commander who was the operations department head, got up on stage, stripped down, and started ****ing the hookers, in full view of numerous crewmen that they weren't supposed to be fraternizing with. A LTJG was banging one doggie style when another came up behind him and started playing with his ass - without a word he turned around and puked on her, then continued banging away like nothing had happened. That was, uh, something I'd never seen in Kirksville. We just laughed and cheered them on. Eventually the captain got wind of it, and let's just say I don't recall seeing any of those officers on liberty again. Anywhere.
Apparently shit like this was commonplace in the Philippines, but we were east coast sailors, and I never visited another port where that sort of thing happened. Not even Naples.