About the 5.11'age.

I know I posted a while back about the 5.11 clothing craze. It's an interesting phenomenon to me, so I tend to keep an eye on it.

I've started to notice that I can now pick the executive types out of the crowd. I know them, because their 5.11's are tailored. So, just so we're all clear on this point, it's not enough to try and look "tactical". They have to do so with hand tailored "tactical" garments, cuffed at the ankles just so. Some of them even have high end leather shoulder holsters with shiny hand rubbed calf leather rigs, fitted to their tailored shirts.

It's like being in a combat zone with Crockett and Tubbs at times. It's surreal.

That's life in Iraq.

Also surreal is one of the military people I work with. He's young, and I won't name him or his rank, but he's junior enough to be ordered around by Staff Sergeants and the like. He's surreal because he's just sort of hapless at times, like a puppy, still looks like he has a bit of baby fat on him and not much need to shave more than weekly or so. Nice enough, but young, and inexperienced, and far from home in a dangerous place.

And I think he's fantastic, because he's here serving his country, yes. But also, selfishly, because he is so incredibly entertaining. See, you'll see him walk by your doorway from time to time, and he's always carrying two or more items. And these items are as opposite as you can find. He might be carrying a bit of pipe in one hand, and in the other, a stuffed parrot.

You don't know why he has the parrot, where he's coming from with the parrot, or where he's going with it. Later on, he has a bit of cabling, and a pineapple. Which begs a question... WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU FIND A PINNEAPPLE IN IRAQ?!!?!11!!ELEVEN!!

I dunno, it's one of teh great mysteries of our times. A co-worker has a theory that, in fact, various persons task him with acquiring different things, and so he ends up with completely mismatched items in his arms. That's possible I suppose. Another theory is that perhaps a Sergeant is having fun, and tasks him with these on purpose.. like "Mr. X. I need you to get me a spoon... andabrokenchairleg!

AND HE DOES IT! He finds these things! You go looking where he was, searching for the rest of the chair, and NADA! NO EFFING CHAIR ANYWHERE! But he finds a broken leg to one! You explain that to me, because I dunno. I just don't know. I have a theory about parallel dimensions and closets, but other than that, I got nuttin'.

But God as my witness, I cannot wait to see what he brings by tomorrow. I fully expect that one day he'll walk by my door holding a jar of peanut butter... and then the pony he's leading will walk by. Clip-clop clip-clop clip-clop.

That day will be so awesome.

Regards,
-Bouncer-