Bought and Leaving

I can be bought, it seems.

And I got orders.

The first, because it's more of a lighthearted thing. I have mentioned that, being in the military, I am up to my ears in males. And it's not that most of them have anything wrong with them. Some do. But for the most part, they're good. I'm just not at all interested in dating when we all know how transient life on this base is.

I play for keeps, one might say.

But this doesn't really stop the invitations. One of them, though, got smart. Figured out something I'm interested in. Figured out that he has something along that line that he was kind of done with anyways. I asked him how much he wanted for it*. He said if I got dinner on Saturday, we'd call it good.

Hmmm.

Hmmmmmmm.

I really, really want this. I could take it with me to sea, and play with it on my laptop. And this arrangement costs me at least $200 than it would if I bought it myself. And I don't dislike him - I just don't really know him that well.

Hmmmm.

I'm trying to figure out if this is unethical.

*This is very common on this base. Probably most bases. People will buy stuff for life-comfort here that they can't or don't want to bring with them on a ship. So, they end up selling it for half-price or less to someone who's going to be here longer than they are.

In other news, I...got...orders. I can't quite get my brain around this. I'm sloooowly becoming accustomed to the notion that I've advanced in rank. But...orders? Me?

Y'have to understand, on this base, ETs are here forever. Two running jokes for us are, "The Fleet is a myth," and "retiring from Great Lakes!" It isn't actually forever - most people are out of here in less than two years, and our contracts all have a two-year extension built in for just this purpose. But in contrast with every other rate that trains at this base, it definitely feels like we're growing roots here.

And I...I have orders? I'd already accepted that I was going to be here for...wow. A long time. I'd made plans for Halloween in Chicago. I'd asked my younger sister if she'd join me for Sonshine, an epic four-day Christian music festival that takes place in MN every summer. In the back of my mind, I was tooling around the concept of another Christmas standdown from this base.

They're good orders, too. Hard work, but hard play too, by reputation. So, the next five years might age me fast, but I'm going to have a lot of fun getting old.

I'm still a bit stunned, but what I WILL say is - it's not shore duty, and it's not overseas. Both of which would have been fun, I'll grant. But I think this will be fun, too.

I just can't quite believe that I'm actually getting out of here.

Odd Exchange

Walking back tonight. I will not be drinking for St. Patrick's for various reasons - one of the ones further down the list is that there is one bar I like on base, and I am predicting that it will be packed. I am coming back from a post-rehearsal Bible study, about twenty-five minutes from my barracks, with the remainder of some snacks.

Nearly to my barracks, another guy is crossing the street in the opposite direction, muttering.

G: "Bad. That's bad."
F: (thinking he's referring to some sort of barracks-junk) "What's bad?"
G: "You. You shouldn't be walking back alone after dark."
F: *little bit of a smile*
G: *continuing on past me, turning* "Haven't you heard about the **** that's been going down lately*?"

*No, in fact, I hadn't. The last time I heard about a girl on base getting attacked walking back after dark was in September - and the young lady in question had been a former boxer.

F: *amused*"Well, if anybody tries anything, I can just sock 'em with my bag of bread."
G: *moving on* "Good. Good. You should do that. Hit 'em hard."
F: *confidently*"Can do."

Usually, when I have conversations like that, they're coming from the bar to the barracks, not the other way around. But, Happy St. Patrick's Day.


(Let it be noted that when I AM concerned for my safety, I grab one of my male buddies to walk me back. I have done this before, but my spidey-sense wasn't tingling that night. At the point of this conversation, I was about a block from my barracks.)