all for a pack of cigs
You know most of my favorite stories start out with this line “So, there I was…” So, dear reader come sit by the fire while I tell you a story.
Ok, the debate last night, if I heard one more reference to Vietnam or statement on waffling (if I was the Waffle House, I would sue, their are giving this great American institution a bad name, http://www.wafflehouse.com/directoryframes.htm) I was going to shit biscuits. So being the level headed man that I am I decided what I needed was the company of my fellow citizens. Ergo, I went to the neighborhood bar.
While there I had a drink(s) with “Vic”, who proceeded to expound on his views on current events.
Now, Vic was very proud to share with me has accounts of service and the many adventures he had while a (Navy Seal, Special Forces, Marine Recon, Commando). He explained his US Coast Guard tattoo as part of his cover story while assigned to the CIA, http://www.cia.gov/employment/.
It seems Vic had a little trouble adjusting to civilian life after leading such a dangerous and exciting lifestyle as a secret agent commando in 72 different nations, and being wounded 14 times (he was up for the Congressional Medal of Honor 4 times, but it would of blown his cover if they would of given it to him). His is still bitter about that.
So, to compensate for the loss of action and adventure he took up another hobby, sticking up liquor stores, turns out all that training paid off for him, he was able to hit six in the tri-state area over a course of 3 weeks in June of 94, at which time fate played a nasty trick on old Vic.
He accidentally shot himself in the penis, while pulling his pistol out (yes, there is a lot of Freudian symbolism here, and all I need now is a horse running on a beach and a train going in and out of a tunnel, http://www.healthsystem.virginia.edu/internet/trauma-center/gunshot-wounds.pdf). Well, Vic had been recently released from the service of the state, after doing 10 of a 20 year stretch (it seems he had a few priors).
Vic got a little combative at this point, telling me that he had bought and sold boys in the pen like myself for half a pack of cigarettes many times over the past few years. (http://www.prisoners.com/rapefear.html)
Suddenly he turned away from me, in order to hide his eyes as they misted over, he then told me about his cell mate Ralph, and the many fun times they shared together, every moment a special one.
It was touching; I found myself hoping that on Ralph’s release date they could somehow reconnect and capture those precious moments that they so often shared. Soon however the drink took its effects on him. Vic soiled himself and was asked to leave the establishment.
And there dear reader lays the moral of this story, Vic who craved his freedom, gains it, only to lose his life’s love. Or perhaps, it is further proof that true to my ethnic heritage, I will drink with anyone as long as they are buying. Well, I just wanted to share my thoughts on the presidential debate last night. (still anybody but Bush, http://www.expage.com/notowar12a)
Ok, the debate last night, if I heard one more reference to Vietnam or statement on waffling (if I was the Waffle House, I would sue, their are giving this great American institution a bad name, http://www.wafflehouse.com/directoryframes.htm) I was going to shit biscuits. So being the level headed man that I am I decided what I needed was the company of my fellow citizens. Ergo, I went to the neighborhood bar.
While there I had a drink(s) with “Vic”, who proceeded to expound on his views on current events.
Now, Vic was very proud to share with me has accounts of service and the many adventures he had while a (Navy Seal, Special Forces, Marine Recon, Commando). He explained his US Coast Guard tattoo as part of his cover story while assigned to the CIA, http://www.cia.gov/employment/.
It seems Vic had a little trouble adjusting to civilian life after leading such a dangerous and exciting lifestyle as a secret agent commando in 72 different nations, and being wounded 14 times (he was up for the Congressional Medal of Honor 4 times, but it would of blown his cover if they would of given it to him). His is still bitter about that.
So, to compensate for the loss of action and adventure he took up another hobby, sticking up liquor stores, turns out all that training paid off for him, he was able to hit six in the tri-state area over a course of 3 weeks in June of 94, at which time fate played a nasty trick on old Vic.
He accidentally shot himself in the penis, while pulling his pistol out (yes, there is a lot of Freudian symbolism here, and all I need now is a horse running on a beach and a train going in and out of a tunnel, http://www.healthsystem.virginia.edu/internet/trauma-center/gunshot-wounds.pdf). Well, Vic had been recently released from the service of the state, after doing 10 of a 20 year stretch (it seems he had a few priors).
Vic got a little combative at this point, telling me that he had bought and sold boys in the pen like myself for half a pack of cigarettes many times over the past few years. (http://www.prisoners.com/rapefear.html)
Suddenly he turned away from me, in order to hide his eyes as they misted over, he then told me about his cell mate Ralph, and the many fun times they shared together, every moment a special one.
It was touching; I found myself hoping that on Ralph’s release date they could somehow reconnect and capture those precious moments that they so often shared. Soon however the drink took its effects on him. Vic soiled himself and was asked to leave the establishment.
And there dear reader lays the moral of this story, Vic who craved his freedom, gains it, only to lose his life’s love. Or perhaps, it is further proof that true to my ethnic heritage, I will drink with anyone as long as they are buying. Well, I just wanted to share my thoughts on the presidential debate last night. (still anybody but Bush, http://www.expage.com/notowar12a)
posted by John Q. Public esq. at 2:20 AM
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