Sunday, April 20, 2008

What the Hell?

I was walking back from a briefing earlier this evening, which was less than five minutes away, and was actually within a block of my destination, when some guy stopped me to ask where my battle buddy was.

Rather than say I don't have one, I answered, "At my hooch."

"Well, what's your rank? Is that sergeant or lieutenant? Because that's not going to prevent anything."

"Lieutenant."

"Well, you understand where I'm coming from."

"Roger." By this point, I'm already slightly pissed, and start walking off.

"We're having a pool party on Saturday." I thought he was speaking to the guy next to him, who must have been his battle buddy.

"You can come, ma'am."

What the hell - it sounds like if anything, the only guys I need to worry about bugging me while I'm alone are the same ones trying to "look out" for me and asking me about the presence or absence of my battle buddy. Seriously, though, first you give someone crap about being alone and then you invite them to the pool?

(Before anyone else starts giving me crap about walking alone in the dark, this route is too short and well-used to be an issue. I would describe it in more detail but I'm not sure how close that would come to being an OPSEC issue since anyone familiar with the post might be able to decipher my location.)

1 comment:

Kristin Dodge said...

Sounds like teenage boy-speak. Girl needs protection. Girl needs entertainment. I want girl. I give both. OK for my teenage kid, but I'm with you... what the hell?

Thanks for stopping over at Books for Breakfast... your ideas are refreshing, especially the Cleopatra "memoir." After checking out your blog, it looks like I'll have to add the mouse and mermaid book to my list, too.