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Pork and Beans - from Dean Mason

One of my more memorable recollections was as a "VD Investigator" in St. Louis, MO., circa 1977. On this rather eventful hot summer day, I chose to wear my new white linen slacks for the first time. I was making a home visit to a lady's house. She had been identified as a contact to a primary syphilis case that I had been working for several days. Unlike other contacts to the index case, this lady graciously invited me in to her rather unkempt house. It was dark inside but I couldn't help but notice her dinner table was cluttered with empty or half-empty "Pork-N-Bean" cans. I declined her invitation for water, or "something stronger," but gratefully accepted a seat on her living room couch to begin the interview process. She agreed to accompany me to the clinic, given the fact she had a history of a secondary rash. I was feeling pretty good about the success of my epidemiologic links as I brought her into the clinic. Only when I went back to the medical exam area did I begin to take note of the guffaws surrounding me. A clinic nurse was kind enough to ask if I had used my beautiful new pants as a tablecloth, or had I just had an accident? I quickly scurried to the bathroom, took off my white pants and discovered to my horror, "Pork-N-Bean" stains on both back legs, beginning at the knees and extending to the top of the back pant pockets. The greatest concentration was in the buttocks area on both sides. It was obvious my "free meal" was enjoyed while sitting on the couch at my patient's house. Though subdued for the day, I still did not anticipate the rest of my experience. Returning to my car (in wet pants) at the end of a long, hot, St. Louis day, I climbed into my car and rolled down the windows. The smell was immediate. Smashed beans and juice was engrained in my cloth seats; and I still had a 24 mile drive in rush hour traffic to my home. If you ever invite me to dinner, please do not serve Pork-N-Beans.

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