I will tell you about a lesson I learned as I was coming back from Germany after the war I was in. It was approximately March '91 right after I was coming back from serving in Desert Storm.
Yeah, I was Mr. Billy Badass, that's me, being hardened and seasoned from going to war.
Yeah right!!
How NOT true that was!
A whopping 3 months!
January - March 1991
Yeah, you don't get hardened and seasoned in only 3 lousy months.
I was still a naïve dumbshit that always trusted people way too fucking much.
I have been too trusting my entire life.
When will I ever learn?
Prob the day I die - not a moment sooner!
But I have learned from my experience coming home on this day, long ago.
1st lesson is to be careful in foreign cities.
Foreign, meaning cities other than your home.
Some history for you 1st,
I had gotten called back to active duty in Jan '91, because they discharged me in May '90, less than a year ago. Then, only about 6 months later, the ground war broke out in January. They called me and about 20k other guys up because we were IRR, (that's Individual Ready Reserve.) When you sign up for the bullshit military you obligate yourself for 8 years total, so after my initial 3 years was up in May 90, I still had another 5 years to go, in IRR.
Of course, as you are well aware, females didn't have to go to war!
So next time you may say or ask me,
Are females equal to men?
I'll say NO FUCKING WAY!!
If they were equal, then they should or WOULD do EXACTLY what guys do.
There was one, I heard on the news, that flat out refused to go!
She was even in a unit. So she should have gone in long before I did. But we all know they cant go in. They always say that they want to be equal but then they figure out ways they shouldn't have to do certain things. So they're never equal when it counts.
I was a civilian anyway, not in any way affiliated with the goddamn army, while SHE was in a unit already!
"Oh, you won't ever get called up, that's nearly impossible" I always heard.
Yeah, leave it up to me,
what are the chances, right?
I will also disclose that back in the 80s when I was originally in, it was basically a sissy army because when I was in during peacetime, the only things they worried about me doing was,
shining the old boots,
early morn PT, (Physical training),
haircuts,
uniform pressed nice and flat with starch,
and
oh yeah,
don't let me forget about the shaving I had to do EVERY single solitary day.
So they were not worried about training us how to fight or anything else related to actual war. They were more concerned with us looking "pretty."
Don't forget, this is the army that takes away a drill sergeant's hat for making a PVT stand in a perfectly clean trash can.
It was no longer the days of going into the army and coming out a green beret like the Vietnam days long before!
So getting back to March 91, before I ramble till next year,
after I got back from Germany serving in the war, I went to Philly and arrived at the bus station to take a bus from there, to my childhood home in a small town in NW PA. I wanted to surprise my mother so instead of going back to Vega$, I figured I would make it to PA for a surprise visit where she still lived.
As I sat there, this mother fucker must have spotted me from at least 100 miles away.
A tall lanky nigger, with a heavy Jamaican accent,
needed MY help?
Now let me put it to you straight, right now.
I'm not prejudiced in any way. But when a person acts like something, I will call him on it. There is a major difference between black and nigger. In my book, and it is mine since I'm writing, these are 2 completely different concepts.
This mother fucker was a low down evil dirty nigger!
Hands down!
Get me?
Now, I'm not going to say all of them are like him, but when he took advantage of my trusting good-hearted nature, especially after me serving my country in fucking WAR!!!... then I will call him whatever the fuck I want!
OK, so getting back to him asking for my help,
but WTF, could I possibly do for him?
"Hey man, I'm from Jamaica man, and I need help with reading the street signs."
"Can you help me, man?"
"Come out to the street out of the bus station for a while so I can see how well you can help me today ."
he said in about a single breath.
So, let me get this straight,
he needed MY help out of the other people sitting around in the station.
Well, being the honest helpful soul I always am, I thought I had time to kill anyway,
so what harm could it cause?
Don't answer that just yet.
He did his little song and dance to lead me right down the street to...
...what do we have here?
Yet, another nigger.
How bout that?
There must be a "blue light" special on these fuckers today.
I won't ever forget this MF.
I still remember his metal silver round glasses, along with his nice neatly trimmed stache.
But then I notice something else about this one.
This one didn't speak "Jamaican man," he spoke perfect fucking English.
It just so happens we run into him,
by chance?
But little old naïve oblivious me doesn't suspect a thing.
Now realize this was 3 decades ago, so my memory isn't spot on anymore regarding this incident, but somehow they convinced me to combine my money with theirs in a handkerchief
so,
now everything was together in one?
Sure, it looks fine to me.
But not to worry, they let me hold onto it so they could run and do something else, and
I would hold onto the money until they came back?
Yeah, ok no prob. I will just wait in the bus station till you get done.
Unfortunately, my stupid spidey sense always kicks in after the fact, so I remember I hid the handkerchief in the bus station restroom just in case.
I waited for them to come back.
and waited
and waited
Well, this was taking fucking forever, so I figured I better check on the ol money and went into the bathroom to look at it closer,
and low and behold...
What the fuck did I find?
Yup, you guessed it!
it was filled with WORTHLESS fucking paper!
The old "Bait and Switch"
Now that I know what it is, I will NEVER fall for it again.
So I think its safe to say these fucking niggers weren't coming back.
I was fucked, yet again, because of my good-hearted helpful nature, for being the kind giving Samaritan I have always been.
The reason?
Must be that I can never say the N word.
Uh, not that one, I meant a different N word.
NO!!!
That's the word!
I really should learn this simple 2 letter word by now. It shouldn't be that fucking difficult.
So the next thing I remember was that I ended up talking to the plainclothes security guard and,
what does he ask me?
"Did he have a heavy Jamaican accent?"
I was speechless for a quick second and then said,
"Why, how did you know?"
"He's been around here before, you should have come and gotten me when he approached you," he told me.
But I didn't think anything of it when he was talking to me, so it didn't even occur to me to come to get the guard.
But he did ask me one last question,
"Do you have enough to get out of here with?
I mean Do you need a ticket?"
So is this at least a good thing that came out of this ordeal?
Is there going to be a silver lining to this cloud?
Well, before you answer, you obviously aren't familiar with my guaranteed constant fucking piss poor bad luck, so I better tell you that I answered his question by saying,
"I already have my ticket, thanks"
So, then, it appears that I couldn't even get a fucking free ticket out of this dismal ordeal of fucked bad luck that I had gotten myself into today, because I already had one.
But what's the difference now?
I already "threw away" or perhaps "gave away" 3 bills!
Yes, I admit it.
Me! Mr. Dumb fuck, yet again!
3 big ones, never to be seen in my life ever again!
So the lesson here?
Listen up intently now, because I will say it only ONCE,
Never be a nice guy and help people out, because when it looks too good, it always is!!!
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