Good Decisions


Above: It’s all good.

Today: +8
Days Rated: 192
Average Day: 1.32 (+0.03)

Today is going to be a long post. The last couple of days have been long posts. I’m not going to apologize. 90% of my complaints about this blog are that it is not up to date. The rest are from Fennerty about something I wrote about him. The few people who complain about the posts being too long are usually illiterate goons who have to read the blog by tracing each line with their finger on the screen. You can tell if one of these people has been trying to read the blog because their computer screens will be smudged. Note: As far as I know, Fennerty is a good reader. He has a lot of big books in his room anyway. Ok, on with it.

This morning for some reason, SGT Cole didn’t drive the van, and SGT Riegel did. After the incident with the parking lot guard (the events of two days ago were repeated almost identically yesterday and today), he took us zigging and zagging crazily across the roads of Ft. Sill. We stopped at the PX, and he was replaced by Cole and told that he was never allowed to drive again. I think he was secretly pleased, kind of like when your mom tells you that because you put the dishes away in the wrong places, you are never allowed to put them away again. The parking lot incidents, combined with Riegel almost running over 3 people in 5 minutes, combined with several occasions where the van had no choice but to drive over a lawn because of the confusing roads of Fort Sill no doubt have burned memories of a mysterious and terrible white van into the minds of soldiers stationed there.

That morning was more boring class. We had split into teams, and there was a girl on my team we’ll call “Alexis.” The day prior I struck up a conversation with Alexis and found out that she was from an air force base in Alaska only minutes away from where I am stationed. When I asked her if she had been to certain bars that everyone’s been to, such as Koots and Last Frontier, she said that she hadn’t. Only one reason I could think of would explain such a lack of experience in Alaska’s nightlife, and I asked her if she was married. She said she was. Then I saw the wedding ring on her finger. This morning I noted that she was not wearing the wedding ring, but did not particularly care.

Previously we were told we would be flying to Ft. Bragg tomorrow. A change in plans was to send us to Ft. Benning tonight, so we would be getting out of pointless class early in order to go pack. After lunch, Alexis passed me a notebook with a note in it: “What are you doing after class?” I wrote, “Packing to leave to go to Georgia” and handed it back. She passed it back (yeah I know – how junior high school) and it said “Wanna hang out?” I started to have a bad feeling about this. All of a sudden, Martin, who was sitting next to me seemed to become interested in the notebook, so I closed it and pretended to pay attention to the class for a few minutes. When I opened it up, I found what was apparently the rough draft page, and it said “You’re cute, let’s hang out” with a little heart on it. It was crossed out. Mercifully, class let out and I said something like “Whoa, look at the time, gotta get back to the barracks and pack my bags,” then hastily retreated.

I decided to deal with the situation by telling all my friends and laughing about it, then doing nothing. I would be in Fort Benning by tonight, and she would be going to Afghanistan next week, so I would never have to see her again. As long as I could stay hidden in the barracks for a few more hours until we left, I’d be golden.

This was the point where SGT Cole came to my room and told me that we had to go to a promotion party for one of the Air Force officers that was being held at an on-post bar. I squirmed because I didn’t want to have to see Alexis, and I also hate being told that I have to go to social functions. I guess I hadn’t learned from the barbeque that any social function with both the Air Force and Alcohol is great fun.

Dehnke and I walked over to the post bar and met up with all the other folks. There was free beer for a while, and free food. Alexis was nowhere in sight. 3 for 3 so far. Oh wait, there she is. I avoid her for as long as I can, then I get drunk enough to where I can no longer hide ninja-style and practically bump into her. Great, now we are walking outside to talk. Good Coach on my right shoulder is saying “Oh man, she’s married, you’re gonna get in trouble, don’t be stupid!” Bad Coach is saying “Dude, you’re drunk. Look how much better she looks when you’re drunk! Bring her back to your barracks and bang her! She’ll be in Afghanistan for the next six months anyway, plus she thinks your real name is Coach. There’s no way you’ll get in trouble, plus she needs some loving before she goes overseas…it’s the patriotic thing to do.”

For once in my life, the Good Coach won and even though I was only a “Hey, so you want to check out our barracks” away from getting laid, I instead uttered a “Well, it’s getting late, let me walk you back to your barracks.” So I did, and then went back to the bar, proud of myself for exercising the slightest shred of moral integrity for once in my life.

Then I ran into Karena. Since I was so accomplished at taking girls that I shouldn’t hook up with outside to talk, I asked her if she wanted to go outside and talk. We went outside and then I kissed her. It was dark and nobody saw. I told her that we should keep this “our little secret”. I always wanted to say that…you’ll know what I mean if you have ever seen any “Stranger” or “Good Touch, Bad Touch” videos from the 80s. I told her that I was leaving in a few hours, but she could give me a call while I was in Georgia, so I gave her my cell phone number. Then I went back to the barracks, thinking, what have I done? It was what, 3 days ago, that I told myself that I shouldn’t hook up with her because she’s on our team. I decided to go with an age old philosophy of mine: It Seemed Like The Right Thing To Do At The Time. Which I borrowed from a book by Gordon Korman, but it usually works great when explaining my actions in the Army.

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