The Navy Ball

Someone's asked for more about Navy culture. I again remind everyone that I'm not yet in the Fleet; evidently this is comparable to cattle being raised in a barn vs. free-range on the hills. But, let's go for a saga on this one, and see what y'all care to pick up.

It started with the birthday.

Appropriate, as the Navy Ball is held every year in celebration of the Navy's birthday - October 13th, 1775. But this was Brett's birthday.

Brett and I were in Apprentice Technical Training together. He's an IC, I'm an ET, but all of us in Combat Systems have ATT in the same building, even if we're not covering exactly the same material. During breaks from stuffing our heads with CBTs (computer-based training - we started these in Boot Camp, still doing them in A School, likely be doing them as long as we're active duty), we started giving each other guff. Typical fast-talking, trying to pull the rug out from each other, constantly baiting.

Brett's been in for 4 1/2 years, which gives him a little more status. He came in as an AM, but six months before the end of his enlistment, the Navy decided that they had enough AMs (which can happen to any of us), and told him, "retrain or get out." Brett's one of the guys who wants to go career

The wacky thing about him is that he's actually a really good guy - but he never wants anyone to know it. You have to do a bit of digging and talk to the people who work with him to figure out what's real and what's just an act. He prefers to be known as an unpredictable wacky goofball, and affects a feigned air of hurt whenever I introduce him to a friend as "a good guy."

This may be because the Navy effectively eats nice guys...and girls, for that matter. I understand the distinction between "nice" guys and "good guys," but I do the same thing - in class, I'm a quick-talking smart-aleck, solid on my feet with any comeback, or at least remaining archley above the males and their shenanigans - a far cry from my previous identity, which would have been steamrollered here in short order. Brett and I still keep things light, never serious.

Shortly after I completed ATT ("comped") was Brett's birthday, and a number of us were celebrating at one of the two bars on base. This party ended up being me and nine guys - base population being what it is, this is not at all unusual. The bar was actually packed, and I was one of three women there. The guys were planning to head to the more chaotic bar after this one closed down, a location I make a point of avoiding, so Brett walked me back to my barracks.

As we're keeping it light, I don't say anything about how much I appreciate it, and he doesn't suggest that he's going to, just falls in next to me on my way out of the bar, and neither of us say anything about the girl who was attacked on base the week before by another sailor coming out of the bar. (It came out okay - the guy didn't realize that the petite little sailor he went after used to be a boxer in high school). We spend half the way back trading the worst pickup lines we've ever heard.

(It should be noted - Adam was also concerned about me walking back alone, and came from his barracks to escort me. Double-escort, make a girl feel special, chyah. :P)

So he asked, "What about this one: 'Wanna go to the Navy Ball with me?' "
I thought carefully, and said, "Nope. Never gotten that one before."

Now, it should be noted, posters about the Ball have been up since about April, but I (like most of my friends) had no intention of going, and little idea what exactly it was about. I don't know if it was Long Island recklessness, the interest in trying something new, the fact that I actually like hanging out with Brett, or some residual guilt over how many times I'd inadvertently stood him up before (we have very different schedules. It's hard to make anything work.), but I said something nonchalantly committal.

And proceeded to spend the next few weeks in a bit of a tizzy.