MILITARY "BRAT"

The other day, I needed to go to my local Social Security Administration (sic) Office to file some paperwork, ask some questions and just enjoy their lovely, uncomfortable plastic chairs. There is usually One Nut in the room, when one goes there. "The Other Day" was no exception. I usually just suck it up and ride out the storm. This Little Meth-Head got my attention when he started making comments like: "I HATE the U.S. Military and all of their "Service Brats. All those Punk Ass Bitches that were born with a Silver Spoon up their asses and got all the stuff that WE never did, etc., etc.."

I have a fairly unnerving "thousand yard stare" in my bag of tricks. It comes from knowing guys that have That Stare, FOR REAL. Mine's an act. Mostly. I only haul it out in lieu of cleaning someone's clock. This Kid's clock needed a good cleaning. An Asphalt Sandwich. An Ass-whipping. To be taught some common "manners." At one point the Kid asked me: "Why are you staring at me?" I replied: "Because I am a Military Brat and you're REALLY beginning to annoy me." I made sure the two Guards, with sidearms strapped, heard me. They told him to stop annoying the others in the Office. He continued on with the most "entitled" line of drivel I've heard in a long time. "Well, I'm Disabled and I have to TALK LOUD because I can't hear! It's MY DISABILITY!" For the purpose of listening to the shrill ring of your own voice, I would assume. I had "Had enough" and moved from the section of the room that was his Stage as did a couple of other people. We KNEW there was going to be trouble.

Eventually, The Kid was thrown out of the Office, after calling one of the guards an Asshole. The line in the sand had been breached and he was shown the door. I was still angry, for awhile. At least my hands weren't shaking. As I exited the Office and walked toward the bus stop, there was The Kid. I decided that I really didn't want to "Eat His Liver With Some Fava Beans And A Nice Chianti" after all and and went into The Mall to get a Hamburger and cool off, stopping to speak a bit of German with my Pal, Christof, who owns a Head Shop sort of place in that Mall. When I came out, after wandering around and letting 5mg's of Valium hit me, I went over to the bus stop again. The Kid was gone. No Liver Eating. Groovy. Stopped again down the road and did a bit of light shopping before walking home. Talked Baseball (Old Pacific Coast League Stuff) with a Nice Gal on the bus.

Sociopaths, especially those hopped up on "Mexican Bathtub Espresso" really bug me. I avoid them, like The Plague. I have very little in the way of patience for people that DEMAND that their delusional reality be heard. Mono-Syllabic-ally and with venomous spittle in the corners of their ugly little mouths. It brings out the Amateur Dentist in me.

Yes, I was a Military Brat. No, I was NOT born with a silver spoon up my ass. (Maybe Brass, though) We never "wanted" for anything, as Children but, our lives were not "easy" or "delightful." We moved allot. I had very few Friends that I'd known for more than a couple of years, growing up. I learned to "not get too close" to people because I knew we'd be "leaving again." I am a Social Chameleon. I can be anybody you want me to, out of necessity. I learned to "shift gears and smile when I didn't want to" from an early age. I've lost allot of that schtick in my Older Years and DO have Friends that I've known for 40 years now. Life is good. Enjoy it. Hold onto what you "have." ("Ownership of The Intangible" is a myth, by the way.) It will "go away" or "be re-billeted to Subic Bay, Philippines" or something, too.

"You might as well be diggin' it while it's happening because, It Just Might Be A One Shot Deal."
-Frank Zappa

Hugs and Kisses,
-Doc