Let’s do an exercise. Close your eyes. Imagine yourself on a beach.

Wait. Never mind. We’re not at the beach.

Waitwait. I can’t type in Braille. Open your eyes.

Let’s do this instead:

Imagine that you’re a General in the United States Army. You’re married, with children. You’ve worked hard. Defended your country. You’ve sacrificed.

You’ve earned stuff.

Maybe the power gets to your head a bit. Maybe the new Captain in S-2 has been giving you the eye during the weekly briefings.

Then you’re all like, "Hey gurl."

And she’s like, "Hey boi."

Champagne pops off. Fireworks. Velvet. Lots of velvet shit everywhere.

You da man, boss. It’s new, it’s bad, it’s FUN.

And maybe that goes to your head. Maybe that Lieutenant in S-4 gave you a wink the other day when you went to change out that old vest you never wore for the new one your troops hate.

So then you’re like, "Hey gurl."

And she’s like, "I like power."

And you’re like, "Me too."

"Oh?" She says, her lips curling at the corners. "We have so much in common."

"Yeah." You put your hands on the wall and bracket her into the corner with your arms.

But she’s not sure now. She’s looking around. Eyes shifting. "But what if we get caught?"

Silly girl. "Pffttt! I run dis shit."

All right. I’ll stop there. I don’t know the details. Not sure I care. Looks like a big ol’ mess. But the mess seems unnecessarily messier when the penalty for several (and serious) UCMJ violations is… a slap on the wrist.


Really, I wrote this just to see what kind of mentality it would take to carry on affairs and sexting (or whatever) and who-knows-what-else, and then turn around and, almost flippantly, muse, "All I want to do now is go north and hug my kids and my wife." Do whaa?

Maybe his wife’s all like, "Oh hell no – your shit’s all in the yard. Go run dat."

I mean, somebody has to knock the pegs.


0 0 votes
Article Rating