Free At Last − 31 October, 1994
You know, it turns out that 3 years can take forever.
My last week in the Army consisted of getting my stripper girlfriend and her friends from the club to dance for my buddies in the barracks while most of my unit was in California training and turning in all my military issue items and getting signatures for them in return. Oh, and breaking up with above stripper to sever ties with El Paso. (Hey, I promised my uncle a long time ago that I would never get married while in the Army. And besides, strippers aren't for marrying)
I was then discharged and sent back home. I was 21 and had already been drinking for 3 years legally in Mexico and on-post, but now I was headed back to the Poconos and my friends were all doing it for the first time. I felt like an old man. My last day was 3 years to the day that I rode in the car with the recruiter. I said goodbye to all my Army buddies and we said we'd keep in touch, even though we all knew we were full of shit. I hopped on a plane, with my Iguanas, and got to Newark around 4 p.m.
I'll never forget the ride home, I was telling my Mom and Dad about my experiences and guys I knew and I was saying things like, "This fuckin guy Jeff, he's fucking crazy, he would fuckin' jump down the stairs and scare the shit out of the CQ, that's the guy that has to stay up 24 fucking hours and watch the barracks so no fucking criminals steal shit." without even realizing what I was really saying. My mom turned around and smiled and calmly said, "Brian, can you take it easy with the fucks please?"
It makes me laugh now that I remember it, but I really didn't think I was saying anything bad at the time, it was how I talked to my buddies for so long. My life is full of stories like this and my parents have always rolled with the punches and I can't shock them...ever!
My last week in the Army consisted of getting my stripper girlfriend and her friends from the club to dance for my buddies in the barracks while most of my unit was in California training and turning in all my military issue items and getting signatures for them in return. Oh, and breaking up with above stripper to sever ties with El Paso. (Hey, I promised my uncle a long time ago that I would never get married while in the Army. And besides, strippers aren't for marrying)
I was then discharged and sent back home. I was 21 and had already been drinking for 3 years legally in Mexico and on-post, but now I was headed back to the Poconos and my friends were all doing it for the first time. I felt like an old man. My last day was 3 years to the day that I rode in the car with the recruiter. I said goodbye to all my Army buddies and we said we'd keep in touch, even though we all knew we were full of shit. I hopped on a plane, with my Iguanas, and got to Newark around 4 p.m.
I'll never forget the ride home, I was telling my Mom and Dad about my experiences and guys I knew and I was saying things like, "This fuckin guy Jeff, he's fucking crazy, he would fuckin' jump down the stairs and scare the shit out of the CQ, that's the guy that has to stay up 24 fucking hours and watch the barracks so no fucking criminals steal shit." without even realizing what I was really saying. My mom turned around and smiled and calmly said, "Brian, can you take it easy with the fucks please?"
It makes me laugh now that I remember it, but I really didn't think I was saying anything bad at the time, it was how I talked to my buddies for so long. My life is full of stories like this and my parents have always rolled with the punches and I can't shock them...ever!
Comments:
intrepideddie (May 11, 2008. 02:29am)
Oh, yeah... under-age drinking in Juarez! I probably just missed seeing you there by a year or two. (I was going to school in Roswell, NM, at the time.)
stretch65 (May 12, 2008. 12:16am)
I had the same problem when I returned home from active duty in the Army during the Vietnam era. I returned home late in the evening and didn't see my parents until the next morning. I can still see the horror in my mother's eyes and see my dad's mouth drop open when I asked, "Please pass the fucking eggs."