So after a two year tour on the submarine I went to Corpschool to learn how to be a medic. I was one of the few “fleet returnees” stuck in a class full of teenagers who just got out of boot camp and could legally drink on base. On top of all that, I had not seen the Warden for more than 3 days in a row for about 6 months. I just didn’t have the patience for much those days and could be quite the grouch. It was there that I met Roden The Bastard Pilot of the Juggernaut. His real name was Arron Fuller, his middle name was Roden. He was from the next town over from my Grandmother in Texas. He liked to drink, was quick to smile, and the grouchier I got the more he laughed, so we got a long great. He also had a truck on base, and we would get bored, grab a designated driver, and make pilgrimages to L.A., at least they were pilgrimages when it was my idea. If it was Fuller’s idea we just went to L.A. to yell at the hookers. A lot of times it started out as a pilgrimage, but then later digressed into going to yell at the hookers. Anyway you look at it though, we usually ended up in L.A. yelling at hookers.
So one night, after making a wrong turn somewhere near the tar pits we found ourselves in a part of L.A. you never saw in episodes of Beverley Hills 90210. We eventually found our way back to Holywood cruising up and down Santa Monica yelling things at hookers. Now when this actually went down, I was in shock, of all the places I had imagined my life taking me it never involved me hanging out of a pick up next to a 6’5” half breed Apache with a cowboy hat and a southern accent, yelling at some poor girl in a pair of combat boots, some sort of mesh tube top thing, and a fluorescent green bikini with a matching purse…with something in it…she is pulling something out of her purse…is that a..HOLY SHIT IT’S A GUN!!!! CHAD GET US OUT OF HERE SHE’S GOT A GUN!!!
Fuller swears up and down she actually fired it at us, and spent the next three days looking for bullet holes in the Juggernaut, but I never heard the shots, but then again I was busy trying to pull Fuller back in the cab, he was a bit drunker and considerably larger than me.
The Navy, it is not just a job, it is an adventure.
Sorry, how much can you blog about riding the trainer down in the basement? Weight is 195-198ish something, back and neck are still jacked up, and I still got my cold.
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4 comments:
Ahhhh, cant beat a good hooker story.
Yeah, you know it's a good hooker story when even your wife laughs at it.
oh no....a cold. It sounds like you are already priming us for your bail out on the cyclocross race this weekend :(
The cold doesn't concern me near as much as the lingering issues with my back and neck, but I will be at the starting line for the race on Sunday. Of course, when, if or how I cross the finish line is still up for speculation.
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