T2C
04-12-15, 21:26
The wife spoke with a Navy buddy who called the house the other night (Asshole!). He was drunker than a goat, normal behavior, and bent her ear for over an hour after she told him I was not at home. He told her a story I had never shared with her. The rubber swab handle told the wife I danced with his grandmother and I was called to task when I arrived home.
Background: In June of 1983 I was invited to a shipmate's wedding up in Maryland. Nine of us were invited and J.C. Penney at Military Mall in Norfolk, Virginia was besieged by the lot of us who were shopping for appropriate attire to attend the wedding. A few of us bought suits and ties that would make Herb Tarlek from WKRP in Cincinnati blush. I came up empty handed.
A day later we were packing our gear for the road trip to Maryland. I announced that Paulie was a Navy man, I was wearing my Cracker Jack uniform to the wedding and the rest of the work party could pound sand. I was immediately identified as a "lifer asshole". The conversation ended there.
The following day we piled into two cars and headed for Maryland. The day of the wedding I donned my Cracker Jack uniform and went to the motel lobby to wait for the rest of the guys before we headed to the church. The other 8 members of the work party arrived in the lobby wearing their Cracker Jack uniforms and said "let's go you lifer asshole!" I was almost in tears, but I figured it was because my shoes were too tight. I found out later that they returned the God Awful clothes they bought at J.C Penney.
The Wedding: We went to the Catholic church where we spent a few hours hearing the Priest say stand, pray, kneel, pray, sit, stand, pray, kneel, pray. All the while the women in the church were giving us the long eye, because there in one row were 9 fleet sailors wearing their Cracker Jack uniforms. I figured they were trying to determine how many Cops they were going to call to throw our sorry asses out.
The Reception: Everyone was drunk as hell and impressed that 9 of Paulie's shipmates showed up for the wedding dressed like a bunch of WWII Sailors. I don't dance and sat out the first several dances at the reception. I noticed a lady in her mid to late 70's sitting by herself at a table watching the rest of the work party dancing with women they met at the reception. I asked one of Paulie's aunts why she was sitting alone and was told that she married a guy in the early 1940's who enlisted in the U.S Navy and never made it home. He was buried at sea in the Pacific. I walked over, past a few horny drunken women, and asked the old gal to dance.
To make a long story short, Paulie has a picture of me dancing cheek to cheek with his grandmother with my Dixie Cup hat cocked on the back of my head like a WWII Sailor on shore leave. His grandmother ate it up. Some of the older people at the reception said they had not seen her that happy in 40 years.
I thought I could keep my encounter with another woman a secret, but a Navy buddy (asshole!) spilled the beans. The moral of the story is that I was busted with another woman the wife did not know about. I am still trying to get a copy of the picture.
Lesson Learned: Keep you liquor cabinet and your grandmothers locked up, if the Navy is in town.
There is too much gloomy crap going on in the world, so let's hear something positive for a change.
Let's hear some similar stories from you Marines and Army. We won't tell anyone, at least until after the first few drinks.
Background: In June of 1983 I was invited to a shipmate's wedding up in Maryland. Nine of us were invited and J.C. Penney at Military Mall in Norfolk, Virginia was besieged by the lot of us who were shopping for appropriate attire to attend the wedding. A few of us bought suits and ties that would make Herb Tarlek from WKRP in Cincinnati blush. I came up empty handed.
A day later we were packing our gear for the road trip to Maryland. I announced that Paulie was a Navy man, I was wearing my Cracker Jack uniform to the wedding and the rest of the work party could pound sand. I was immediately identified as a "lifer asshole". The conversation ended there.
The following day we piled into two cars and headed for Maryland. The day of the wedding I donned my Cracker Jack uniform and went to the motel lobby to wait for the rest of the guys before we headed to the church. The other 8 members of the work party arrived in the lobby wearing their Cracker Jack uniforms and said "let's go you lifer asshole!" I was almost in tears, but I figured it was because my shoes were too tight. I found out later that they returned the God Awful clothes they bought at J.C Penney.
The Wedding: We went to the Catholic church where we spent a few hours hearing the Priest say stand, pray, kneel, pray, sit, stand, pray, kneel, pray. All the while the women in the church were giving us the long eye, because there in one row were 9 fleet sailors wearing their Cracker Jack uniforms. I figured they were trying to determine how many Cops they were going to call to throw our sorry asses out.
The Reception: Everyone was drunk as hell and impressed that 9 of Paulie's shipmates showed up for the wedding dressed like a bunch of WWII Sailors. I don't dance and sat out the first several dances at the reception. I noticed a lady in her mid to late 70's sitting by herself at a table watching the rest of the work party dancing with women they met at the reception. I asked one of Paulie's aunts why she was sitting alone and was told that she married a guy in the early 1940's who enlisted in the U.S Navy and never made it home. He was buried at sea in the Pacific. I walked over, past a few horny drunken women, and asked the old gal to dance.
To make a long story short, Paulie has a picture of me dancing cheek to cheek with his grandmother with my Dixie Cup hat cocked on the back of my head like a WWII Sailor on shore leave. His grandmother ate it up. Some of the older people at the reception said they had not seen her that happy in 40 years.
I thought I could keep my encounter with another woman a secret, but a Navy buddy (asshole!) spilled the beans. The moral of the story is that I was busted with another woman the wife did not know about. I am still trying to get a copy of the picture.
Lesson Learned: Keep you liquor cabinet and your grandmothers locked up, if the Navy is in town.
There is too much gloomy crap going on in the world, so let's hear something positive for a change.
Let's hear some similar stories from you Marines and Army. We won't tell anyone, at least until after the first few drinks.