8/30/2005
Tales From The Rear, Vol. II
As I once did to celebrate my buddies return home from Iraq, I again offer a glimpse into what my mind was like during my time in the Marines in order to celebrate Josh, Daryl, et al.'s third trip to the cradle of civilization, in yet another Tales From The Rear.
This e-mail was fired off to my buddy Joe during the spring of 2004. I had been getting ready to separate from the military in early May, when I found out that I, in fact, wouldn't be getting out until the middle of June and I would have to spend my last three months as a military policeman at a Marine Corps Air Station in North Carolina (if you have ever met me, and chances are even if you haven't, you can imagine how out of place I would be in that position.) This e-mail basically sums up how well my life was going at the time, and really the five year period from 1999 to mid-2004, for that matter:
"So you think your life's pathetic, huh? Well, about two months ago I broke up with my girlfriend. Why? Because it was Major League Baseball's Opening Day and I had just subscribed to MLB.com radio, so that I could listen to every Cardinals game.
The breakup went a little like this:
Kristin: "You want to go to the Beach tomorrow?"
Al: "Nah, the Redbirds have a matinee game against the Phillies."
Kristin: "Um, okay..."
Al:"You know what...I'm kind of busy all weekend, why don't you give me a call Monday. Actually, better make that Tuesday. I've got a Tiger Woods PGA Tour 'Real Time Event' to play Monday night on Playstation."
And she never called back. What a bitch.
Now my life is a ridiculous cycle of listening to baseball, playing baseball on Playstation, porn, sleep, and law enforcement. If I could just find a porn of Jim Edmonds in a police uniform being double-teamed by two hot blondes, my spring would be set.
One of the four facets of my pathetic existence that I just mentioned is law enforcement. I've been a military cop for about 2 1/2 months and have two weeks left walking that thin blue line. It has been entertaining to say the least. I can now proudly say that twice in my lifetime I have made a middle aged woman cry (once was in a hotel room in Virgina Beach during the spring of 2000...a totally different story.)
Anyhoo...I saw this lady driving around not wearing her seat belt, so I had her pull over to talk to her. I went up and got her licence and registration...I ran it through the system and everything was fine. I walked back to her car to tell her to buckle up and have a nice day.
As soon as I got within her view again she yelled at me "Not to be disrespectful, but...." I'm not entirely sure of what she said after that, but it definitely was not respectful. She went off on her rant for quite a while.
As soon as she said "You'd better be fucking right or heads are gonna roll," I thought "Fuck this bitch...it's ticket time!" and I wrote her up. Once she saw the ticket she started sobbing about how she has surgery next week and she has to drive to it and her husband will beat her and boo hoo hoo...shut the fuck up, ya old hag.
Just another day fighting crime as far as I'm concerned. Not that I really care...I've got three weeks left in this stupid military and my five years will finally be done. I don't expect my life to get too much better, but it can't be nearly as pathetic as it is now.
Anyway, back to the game...Pirates are up 6 to 4...Ray Lankford steps to the plate...
Laters,
Al"
This e-mail was fired off to my buddy Joe during the spring of 2004. I had been getting ready to separate from the military in early May, when I found out that I, in fact, wouldn't be getting out until the middle of June and I would have to spend my last three months as a military policeman at a Marine Corps Air Station in North Carolina (if you have ever met me, and chances are even if you haven't, you can imagine how out of place I would be in that position.) This e-mail basically sums up how well my life was going at the time, and really the five year period from 1999 to mid-2004, for that matter:
"So you think your life's pathetic, huh? Well, about two months ago I broke up with my girlfriend. Why? Because it was Major League Baseball's Opening Day and I had just subscribed to MLB.com radio, so that I could listen to every Cardinals game.
The breakup went a little like this:
Kristin: "You want to go to the Beach tomorrow?"
Al: "Nah, the Redbirds have a matinee game against the Phillies."
Kristin: "Um, okay..."
Al:"You know what...I'm kind of busy all weekend, why don't you give me a call Monday. Actually, better make that Tuesday. I've got a Tiger Woods PGA Tour 'Real Time Event' to play Monday night on Playstation."
And she never called back. What a bitch.
Now my life is a ridiculous cycle of listening to baseball, playing baseball on Playstation, porn, sleep, and law enforcement. If I could just find a porn of Jim Edmonds in a police uniform being double-teamed by two hot blondes, my spring would be set.
One of the four facets of my pathetic existence that I just mentioned is law enforcement. I've been a military cop for about 2 1/2 months and have two weeks left walking that thin blue line. It has been entertaining to say the least. I can now proudly say that twice in my lifetime I have made a middle aged woman cry (once was in a hotel room in Virgina Beach during the spring of 2000...a totally different story.)
Anyhoo...I saw this lady driving around not wearing her seat belt, so I had her pull over to talk to her. I went up and got her licence and registration...I ran it through the system and everything was fine. I walked back to her car to tell her to buckle up and have a nice day.
As soon as I got within her view again she yelled at me "Not to be disrespectful, but...." I'm not entirely sure of what she said after that, but it definitely was not respectful. She went off on her rant for quite a while.
As soon as she said "You'd better be fucking right or heads are gonna roll," I thought "Fuck this bitch...it's ticket time!" and I wrote her up. Once she saw the ticket she started sobbing about how she has surgery next week and she has to drive to it and her husband will beat her and boo hoo hoo...shut the fuck up, ya old hag.
Just another day fighting crime as far as I'm concerned. Not that I really care...I've got three weeks left in this stupid military and my five years will finally be done. I don't expect my life to get too much better, but it can't be nearly as pathetic as it is now.
Anyway, back to the game...Pirates are up 6 to 4...Ray Lankford steps to the plate...
Laters,
Al"
Although I failed to mention the fact that I was probably drinking a gallon of Yellow Tail a night, that e-mail is a rather intimate and accurate look into the mindset of yours truly at the tender age of 23.
Anyhoo, here's to you Josh, Daryl, and the rest of you fuckers. The next time I see a yellow magnetic ribbon on the back of a car, I'll think of you. Or about how much I hate those fucking magnets. Probably the latter.
Have fun over there, don't get yourselves killed, and update your fucking blogs, douchebags.
Comments:
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I don't know how you managed such a raw and open post without mentioning all the homosexual vibe you and Will were marketing at the time. Come on - two guys living in the same room, who happen to be cops (for all intensive purposes), and telescoping billyclubs. I don't care how much Fifa you're playing, the room smells like gay men.
Yeah, the whole Village People/Cops aspect to Will and my "relationship" probably only made people even more concerned. Aside from dressing up like a pirate, pretending that you may-or-may-not be gay is the most fun you can have in the Marines. Unless you have drank a box of wine first...then you can have all sorts of fun.
Last year, 2004. Ray-Ray's last year in the bigs. He hit a homerun in his final AB at Busch. God, I loved that fast/fat man.
http://www.baseball-reference.com/l/lankfra01.shtml
http://www.baseball-reference.com/l/lankfra01.shtml
Shit, with all the ribbon-decals I see in that country of yours whenever I visit, I figured the soldiers liked those damn things.
oh thank you for sharing the Tales from the Rear, I enjoyed the first volume with my friend who is a price per head writer, and I will share this second volume with him
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