Freedom

The long awaited time had come. The company stood in formation, eagerly awaiting the magic words while SFC Big Daddy administered the safety brief. We have all heard it before and I let it wash over me like music before bed time. Don’t drink and drive (duh!). Don’t drink to excess (not bloody likely). Do not engage in risky sexual behavior (this earns a chuckle from the crowd). The drone goes on. Then the magic word comes… “DISMISSED”

I think I made it to the car before my hat reached the ground. If either way it would have gone to the judges. The pinball has been launched into the game. Like a shot I gather my two passengers and head off into the sunset. Surprisingly since my ultimate destination is Chi-town to the east I must first go west. PFC Airborne is meeting his fiancé at the airport, I suspect that he will not see the light of day for the next four days. PFC Tooth will rally up with the other single troops for a weekend of traditional stress reduction in Chi-town, but needs a ride that far.

We hit the first bumper without a hitch. Airborne does a perfect PLF out of the vehicle at the airport. With a few phone calls we discover the rest of the boys are nearby at the mall getting rid of army gray for the varied colors of civilian clothes. Under the gentle management of SGT Nord. I Macys into the rental car GPS and away we go. We are less than a mile out we realize that something is wrong.

The dot on the Hertz ‘Never Lost’ does not correspond to a physical building. Indeed it tells us we have arrived while on a freeway in the middle of a swamp. I look around for land marks, no luck. We begin a search pattern and call the guys already there, again no luck.

I begin to bitch at “That gods damned piece of proprietary shit!”

Ranting and raving as the rain pours down I try other mall type stores. All show up at the same location, the middle of a swamp. Stupid thing probably hasn’t been updated in years.

PFC Tooth manages to convince me to ask for directions. It would appear we are two miles off target. I hope that the army isn’t buying the same technology. It probably is. We pull into Macy’s in a minor rain squall, pop out and head for the doors. Now we have to find one of the half dozen or so troops in the mall. Well it isn’t easy.

PV2 SPQR (yes he used to be a PFC, but it would be wrong of me to explain the details) spots us at the center of the mall. All I need is a sweat shirt or a flannel or something. Tooth didn’t bring any civilian clothes so he needs a whole outfit. I dive into the store recommended by SPQR.

Ten minutes later I am standing in the greatest of ironies. A zippered hoody with the words “Holister, SoCal” emblazoned on the front. Never mind that I have traveled 1800 miles to get a shirt from the town just down the road from my house. Or that the only way Holister is southern California is if you don’t own a map and don’t know anyone with a map. Not only that it cost $60 which is more than I would pay for any everyday article of clothing.

Never mind I am warm, and that is what counts. We gather up, rather SGT Nord herds the cats into a smallish gaggle. PFC Wookie, PFC Chin, PFC Heart Disease, PFC and a passel of others make a group decision… We are off to Hooters. I make a call to them on the way to the car, this time never lost can find the address, although it can’t find them through the directory. Piece of shit.

Two bumpers down still rolling and bouncing I head for the next stop. A place based around the fact that men spend money on hot girls in tight clothes. The perfect honey trap for this crew.

To be continued.