Continuing… (It's Part 6 in the saga, I fucked up. Sorry.)
So, after a few re-fueling and impromptu cigar-purchasing stops in South and Central America, we wheel up to the deserted jetway at LAX.
“Thought we were going to Elmendorf?” I asked.
“This isn’t it?” the pilot replied, feigning worry.
“No.”, I replied, “Looks like California. Fruits and nuts. All around. What’s going on? One minute we’re off to Texas, then Cali, then Texas again, now we end up here at the California airport of the iconic tower.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing enough haulin’ civilians around. But when we get a call from Virginia, we tend to comply without any questions,” the pilot explains.
“Aw, shit!”, I sort of exclaim, “Rack and Ruin called?”
“Yeah”, the pilot replies, “Figures you’d know these guys. They said they were closer to LAX rather than Texas and had us divert here. In fact, you look over there, see that dark blue Chevy? That’s them; and evidently, your ride.”
I tipped the airman from earlier a couple of cigars as he helped me with my gear off the plane and into the trunk of Rack and Ruin’s plain-Jane blue late modeled Chevy. Had to move the Sidewinder Missiles off to one side, though.
“Most honorable Agents Lack and Luin!” I quipped in my faux-racist greeting. “What the hell, guys? I’ve got to get to Japan and get some newly rigidified digits.”
“Let’s see your hand”, Agent Rack asks. “Nasty.”
“Yeah”, I sigh “And with the medicos in South America and their penchant for plaster, I don’t so much have a left hand as more of an ankylosaur tail.”
“Or Thagomizer”, Agent Ruin tittered. “Anyone gives you grief, and one upside the head should set them right. Or dead.”
“You’re a riot, Ruin.” I replied, “But not entirely incorrect.”
We all agreed that I really didn’t need any extra accouterments to make myself look more dangerous. I mean with my severe haircut, stern beard clip, and perpetual ‘Go fuck yourself’ scowl.
“Yeah”, I replied, stroking the aforementioned beard, “I just can’t get that. I’m such a people person.”
After Agents Rack and Ruin finished drying their eyes from laughing what I thought was en extremis, we finally got down to business.
“So, what’s the skinny, guys”, I asked. “New marching orders?”
“No. Not as such”, Agent Ruin said, still sniggering over my ‘people person’ comment.
I see we’re moving. Agent Rack is just driving casually, like Chewbacca when they were waiting to see if the Empire went for that expensive Bothan code.
“Then, what?” I asked, getting a slight bit piqued.
“Well”, Agent Ruin noted, “When you went to South America, you took some of your artillery collection with, correct?”
“You know I did. You even made some snide comments about my personal choice of sidearms and their ‘excessive’ calibers, if memory serves”, I reiterated.
“And if you are proceeding normally, as you always do, they’re all nestled in the trunk of this very car. All cleaned, quiet, unloaded, and smelling sweetly of Hoppe’s Number 9 and WD 40, correct?” Rack inquired.
“Yes?” I cautiously venture.
“Well, ya’ big dummy, do you think they’re going to let you saunter into Tokyo armed like the Third Fleet?” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Um…well…I do have a Diplomatic Passport.” I ventured.
“That’s not going to work this time.”, Agent Ruin said, shaking his head. “They’re tighter than Dick’s Hatband about sidearms. Want to bring in your Rigby SXS .500 Nitro Express double rifle? Not a problem. Sidearms, especially in your alien hunting calibers, nope.”
Well, that’s just….*dandy!”, I reply, semi-put out. “Now what the hell am I going to do?”
“Ever think that’s why Ruin and I are here, now?”, Rack asks.
“And here I thought it was just so you could bask in the warm glow of my fucking wonderful personality. Or that you actually cared about me as a real goddamn human”, I joshed.
“Ummm…yeah”, Rack replies, “There’s no way we can answer that without going on some Deadpool list. “
I agreed.
“OK, here’s the deal: you get your sidearms, ammunition, speed loaders, brass knuckles, Asp, laser range finders, Sap, Zeiss scopes, Kukri, Wisconsin Cheese Whittler, Buck folding skinner, Marine K-Bar, those two ultra-illegal Cheburkov Cobra titanium switchblades...”
“Three. Olga the KGB lady sent me one for Geologist’s Day.”
“Ahem. Those three ultra-illegal Cheburkov switchblades, that Wyoming Speedholer, your MASER Time-Distance Computer, garrote, pocket rail gun and whatever else lethal you carry and deposit it in the iron box in the trunk. We’ll ensure that it’s delivered to Esme post-haste. And by post-haste I mean one of our guys will deliver it personally.”
“Well…I suppose”, I conceded, “But best send someone who’s been to the house recently. I don’t know how much bigger Khan has grown since I left on this little fantasy trip. Wouldn’t want a star on the wall in Langley for someone eaten by a mastiff. Want to see a picture….Oh, bother. That’s right. My phone’s at the bottom of fucking Lake Maracaibo.”
“Good point”, Ruin interjects, “Guess we’ll do a little road trip and deliver it ourselves. Best call Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“I have no objections to your proposals. Please give Esme this when you see her. I had some luck in the Calaveras Casino and if I don’t send her some mad money. Ouch. She’ll never forgive me for not taking her along to Japan.” I asked.
“But I thought Esme hated Japan? Too crowded and too ‘fussy’, I believe was her estimation.” Ruin asked.
“Yes, but once she saw the Ginza, all bets were off. Shopping the likes of which even Allah himself hasn’t seen.” I replied, slowly shaking my head.
“I see”, Ruin said, “Well, since you’re off to Sapporo, perhaps you can do a recon for Esme on the shopping there.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”, I smiled, “Now I know why I let you guys hang around with me.”
So, as advertised, I am now standing on the tarmac at LAX, basically feeling naked.
“Can’t I keep just one switchblade?” I moaned to Agent Rack.
“Go ahead, if you’re really keen on donating it to Japanese customs”, he replied.
“Fuckbuckets.” I groused.
“There, there now. That’s the usual Dr. Rocknocker of which we’re all so fond.” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Remember, you do have that wallet-sized credit card gizmo from the Company. So you’re not entirely ‘naked’. Think of it as an emergency breechcloth.” He smiled.
“I’d like a larger model if you don’t mind. It’s chilly out here.” I joshed.
After Agents Rack and Ruin stripped me metaphorically naked as they de-weaponized me, they handed me a Business Class ticket to Tokyo, and a pass to the Japan Airlines Hospitality Suite and Lounge.
“So sorry you guys can’t hang around and have a few farewell snorts”, I chided, “But you’ve got a bit of a drive, so best be off before the weather turns to shit.”
“Who says we’re driving?” Agent Rack asked as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the ready and waiting C-130 cargo plane currently taxiing slowly in our direction.
“Well, in that case”, I smiled even more broadly, “Let’s invite the flight crew to join us. That’ll make the flight home all that much more interesting.”
After near tear-jerking farewell sentimentalities, i.e., “Piss on you”, “Get stuffed” and “Take a fuckin’ hike”; Agents Rack and Ruin, my weapons and the Agency’s plain-Jane Blue Chevy were all nestled snugger than buggers in ruggers in the belly of the thundering C-130.
Now truly on my own, I trudge the hundred thousand or so centisteps to my departure terminal, make a quick recon that my flight’s still slated to go in a generally westward direction, and hightail it to the nearest courtesy desk to ask for a motorized cart to take me and my remaining luggage to the JAL Hospitality Suite.
Hey. I’m old, infirm, and currently among the walking wounded.
Anyone that disagrees risks an Ankylosaur tail club swat or Thagomizer to the skull.
Finally ensconced in the JAL Hospitality Suite, Polo Lounge of course; I was drinking Tokyo Teas (3 oz. vodka, 2 oz. gin, 2 oz. rum, 1 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. Midori, good splash of lime juice, a slight splash of 7-Up (diet, of course), over ice with a lime wheel) with Pabst Blue Ribbon Extra 1844 chasers and Hangar One’s “Fog Point” vodka on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of two thousand and twenty-something, Common Era…
I’ve already called Esme and we’ve had a good, long chat. She still managed to give me her shopping list for whenever I find myself bored on the Ginza.
She’ll be shocked when she learns that I’m not going to be in Tokyo long, but have 1st class tickets on the Bullet Train to Sapporo. Still, I’ll probably find myself in Pole Town or the Stellar Place there, trading piles of US greenbacks for locally produced Japanese curios and clothing.
I can hardly wait.
I order another round of drinks, as the wonderful attendants in the Hospitality Suite were bored out of their skulls because of the COVID-induced drop-in customers flying anywhere that requires a hospitality room stay, and I was virtually the only one around. They tried their level best to outdo each other when it comes to Japanese efficiency and friendliness.
After a couple of hours, they ask if I would like something from the grill, as the day chef had “the COVID” and the night chef just arrived. A quick perusal of the menu and I chose a 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse and another round of drinks.
I usually don’t like to eat too much before I fly, but JAL tells me the flight is going to be virtually empty, something like <121 pax, all told, so restroom availability shouldn’t be too much of a concern.
Plus, who am I to say no to a free, blue 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse?
There was a bit of difficulty conveying to the chef through the intermediaries of the hospitality just how I wanted my steak.
“Blue,” I said.
“Brue?” was the reply.
“Rare. Very, very rare.” I continued.
Look of total bewilderment.
I drag out my Personal Language Pro, speak “Steak, very, very rate” into the infernal gizmo, and hand the contraption to the attendant.
“珍しい、非常に珍しいステーキ?”[ Mezurashī, hijō ni mezurashī sutēki?]
“Raw! Nama!” I say, louder than need be.
They toddle off to find the chef.
“How is it sir, that you would like your steak cooked?” he asks.
“Very rare. Just a minute or two per side. Inside still cold.” I instructed.
All I got for the trouble was a puzzled smile.
“Give me the language gizmo…” I type in a few words…
“お尻を洗い、角をノックオフして、ここから出してください”
[O shiri o arai,-kaku o nokkuofu shite, koko kara dashite kudasai.]
“Wash its ass, knock its horns off, and walk it out here.”
“OH!” as the lightbulb pops. “Rare. Got it! Excellent!” the chef laughs and zips back to the kitchen.
Like I always say, I’m nothing if not the international ambassador of amity and goodwill.
“Crack tubes!”
Dinner was fantastic. I do wish I could have somehow mailed the Porterhouse bone back home for Khan. After that hambone incident, he might even taste it.
Finally on the plane, in an almost empty Business Class, the flight captain informs us that we’re headed to Haneda Airport Tokyo and anyone not headed in that direction better ‘haul ass off’ the flight or forever hold their peace.
Late-night international flights tend to be a bit more wooly than your average Chicago to Omaha gig.
Especially when the flight’s damn near empty and we have the next 12 hours or so to be best friends.
We taxi, turn and head into the wind. I’m doctoring up a couple of dossiers and keeping my personal cabin attendant, Luna since there were two of us in Business and two business flight attendants, busy with her trying to play ‘Stump the Geologist’.
“I’ll bet you never had this before.” She beamed and handed me a tumbler of very dangerous-looking brown liquor.
I cautiously sniff, take a modest gulp, swirl and glug the rest down.
“Ohishi Single Sherry Cask”, I say with a muffled belch. “Light. Fruity. An Englishman’s drink.”
“Oh. You knew. Let me try again.” She smiles beatifically.
“I have no objections to your proposal.” I smile as nicely as this crotchety old Komodo Dragon could.
She returns with another flagon of spirits; it smells of obsidian, leather, and earth.
I just had some of this back in LAX. I take a snort, smile, and shotgun the rest.
“Hibiki Japanese Harmony…lovely stuff.” I smile. “A little light for my jaded palate, but I’d never turn it down if it were free.”
“Oh, you win again. Wait. One more.” She smiles and skitters off to the galley.
She returns with another soupçon of some more dangerous brown liquor.
“Here, try this. It will make you very popular at social gatherings”. She smiles.
Sniff. “Splendid.” Snort. Swirl. Smile. Shotgun.
“Kanosuke New Born, if I’m not mistaken.” I smile back. “Very nice. I really do like this one.”
“You too good at this. One more!” she stands and stomps off defiantly. She returns in a trice and hands me the glass.
“Hmm…brown. Light notes of earth, leather, dating your daughter, and Kentucky…
“Beam Suntory, right?”
“You know them all!” she says, feigning irritation.
“And I thank you. Those were all excellent. Now, anything in the dangerous clear liquor category? I asked.
Luna smiled as I palmed off a 20k yen tip.
“Oh, no sir. Wait until we land.” She demurred, referring to the gratuity; which is know is not de rigueur in the Orient, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Just in case we never make it to Tokyo”, I laughed, unknowingly presciently.
We both chuckled about that last line as she tried out various sakes and shōchūs and an actual Japanese ‘White Liquor’ (ホワイトリカー), which were all excellent as was the company.
I tell her that I need to get some work done and could she bring me a tall Rocknocker. After explain the origins and construction of the eponymous drink, she brings me one that must tip the scales at 1 or so liters.
She settles down to an empty seat and I get after the work that I need to finish before we land. I’m about ½ way through my drink when it felt as if the plane hit a brick wall. She quivered and quaked and clutched at herself while I made some comments about the pilot’s mental health.
We dropped like a paralyzed falcon, then just as suddenly, felt like it was an express elevator to Angel’s 11. The plane bucked and shimmied, wickedly. Then we slam-danced right and fell a few more stories. It was like we were in a Mixmaster and the owner was trying out every speed.
The emergency lights in the 777-300ER popped on, and the fasten seat belt sign barked loudly so even sleeping travelers could enjoy the show.
Rinse. Spin. Shudder. Repeat.
Finally, the ride smooths out and we hear the captain on the blower.
“This is your captain speaking…ah, we seem to have hit some uncharted turbulence back there.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious”, I muttered.
“Everything’s A-OK. “ he reports.
“That’s good”, I note.
“But…”
“There’s always the but…” I groan.
“…we have a couple of warning lights for which we can’t quite account. So to just be safe and certain, we’re going to divert to Hawaii, get a clean bill of health and resume this flight once we make sure everything here is hunky-dory.”
There were scattered groans and applause. Add them together and divide by two and the average response on the flight was “Meh. Whatever.”
Except for the other guy in Business, with whom I hadn’t shared two words. He began to absolutely lose his shit.
“Oh, man! We’re so screwed! Mechanical malfunction? What does that mean?” he positively fizzed with fear.
The flight attendants tried to calm him down, to no avail. They basically gave up and said they’d report his misgivings to the Captain.
I motioned over to my personal flight attendant, Luna, and asked if I could be of service.
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled at me, “If you could speak with him. You are so calm, and he is…”
“Losing his bloody mind”, I chuckled as I finished her sentence for her. “Of course, I’ll take a stab at it.”
So, I grab my drink and ease over to my Business Class partner and introduce myself.
“Hey, pal. How’s it going? I’m Dr. Rock, gentleman, scholar, and connoisseur of cigars and things alcoholic. You doing OK?”
He looks at me with an ashen face and his eyes the size of bloodshot dinner plates.
“Yeah. I’m Todd Schotts. I’m flying to Japan for business.” He mumbles
“No surprise there,” I reply calmly and take a slug of my drink.
“But now we’re all going to die. The plane is busted and we’ll crash…” he started off again.
“So, Todd is it? Good. You drink?” I asked.
“Yeah?”, he stammered back.
I asked Luna to make us a fresh batch of my eponymous cocktails.
“OK, Todd, listen up”, I began after the drinks were served, “I have flown literally millions of miles over the last 4 decades. On Aeroflot when it was still the USSR. On TACA (Take A Chance Airways), on Chalk’s in the Caribbean, on Bob’s Verrifast Plane Company in Rhodesia, on regional carriers that don’t even exist anymore. All over the world. Had some bad experiences flying, and me ol’ mugger, this ain’t one of them. This is nothing more than the glitch for this mission.”
I chuckled lightly and complimented Luna on a fantastic drink.
“Yeah…yeah…yeah…but we have to land and check out some lights…” Todd squealed.
“Well now, Todd. It would be rather difficult to do any external assessment while in flight, don’t you agree?” I asked.
“But we’re diverting. We have to land and that adds more risk. We’re going to crash and die!” he was coming more and more unglued.
“I will bet you every cent you have on your person and home bank accounts that that will not happen”, I chuckled.
That took him by surprise. At least it shut him up for a while.
“Look, Todd. This is Boeing’s latest model. They have the most incredible safety record. And if a little clear air turbulence were to be knocking planes out of the sky, don’t you think we’d hear about it as the press went berserk?” I asked.
“But they don’t know what the lights mean! What if one of the engines’s out? How far can we fly on one engine?” Todd stuttered.
Having my fill of a supposedly grown man with inane childlike fears, I calmly replied,
“All the way to the crash site.”
He went white.
“...hope we hit something hard. I don’t want to limp away from this.”
He went limp.
Then I went to my seat and motioned for Luna to prepare a reload.
Of course, 45 minutes later, we land without incident at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Honolulu Hawaii.
We were told to just wait around until they figure out what the problem if any, was.
They had officials waiting at the end of the jetway to check our COVID status and passports before they let us loose in the terminal.
I asked Luna if she knew this airport. She noted that she did.
“Is there a JAL hospitality room here at this airport? I asked.
“Yes, Doctor. It’s the Sakura Lounge. It is located on the third level above The Local, Terminal 2.” She replied.
“Please notify whoever needs to know that that’s where I’ll be for the duration”, I smiled and handed her my business card. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Oh, Dr. Rock”, she replied, “I am sure it is nothing much. We’ll be back in the air within mere hours.”
“Well then”, I smiled, “Guess I’d better get ready to hoof it to the lounge.”
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled, “No rush. I will call for you a courtesy cart. You are injured, you are Business, you are priority.”
“I love that Asian efficiency.” I smiled back and toddled down the jetway.
At the terminus of the jetway, I show my COVID-clear papers, dates and times of my Anti-Virus vaccine administrations, the letter from Virginia clearing me of all detention, and my red Russian diplomatic passport.
While in the cart, whizzing our way to the JAL lounge, the driver said “Man! You must be some kind of VIP. You were through that welcoming committee in less than two minutes!”
“Me? Nah!”, I chuckled, “Just an old phart of a geologist that they didn’t want to mess with. Not on such a bright, sunny day as this.”
“I see you’re not wearing a mask.” The driver quipped.
“Very observant. There are reasons for that.” I replied.
He careens around a corner and if this were a normal pre-Covid day, I’m certain we’d have killed hundreds. However, the airport, as I’ve come to grow accustomed to, was virtually deserted.
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks.
“Well, Scooter, 1. I have an active and hardworking immune system that I let off the chain every once in a while for exercise. Got to let it know what it’s up against, right? 2. I’ve had all my shots and some that were experimental. They seem to have worked. And 3. I find it difficult to drink and smoke cigars while wearing a mask. However, if you’d prefer, I will mask up. No problem, though it still is optional.”
“Nah, man”, he said, “I was just wondering if you were one of those religious idiots or conspiracy nuts.”
Nope”, I smiled back, “Just another geologist out in the world plying his trade for cash. Y’know, whorin’ around for money.”
He laughs aloud as we skid to a stop right in front of Lounge.
I slip the guy a $20 and ask if he’d listen for the JAL flight I was just on. If we’re going on ahead today, I’d need him to scoot by and putt-putt me back to the plane.
He laughs and pockets the $20 as quick as a mink ruts.
“No worries. I’ll just hang around this area. I hear anything about the flight, I’ll come and let you know.” He grins.
“Good man”, I say, as I hand him my card. “I’m Dr. Rocknocker. Call me Rock”.
“And I’m Kapula Mano, call me Kap” he replies.
“Good man”, I say again, “Hope to see you in a while.”
He grins, floors his electric cart, and peels out at speeds approaching 4.5 MPH.
I wander into the lounge, show my credentials, and am escorted to a post up on Mahogany Ridge.
The bar is very quiet. Besides the bartender, I can’t see anyone else in the darkened and Smooth Jazz-infused drinking emporium.
I order a local drink, a Mai Tai, just for the experience and something a bit different.
It’s served in a goldfish bowl on a stem, bedecked with a slice of lime, a sprig of mint, a stick of sugar cane, a polychromatic orchid, and the obligate paper umbrella.
“Ah. Mai Tai. I will enjoy it.” I said to no one in particular.
One was enough, and I decided to go back to the old standard. Once I explained to the bartender what that was, he made them heroic and enthusiastically.
I’m reading up on a random dossier, making notes in a new file, and puffing away on a Fuentes Onyx double Maduro Churchill cigar.
I hear a slight cough coming from my right, and this here lovely lady, she sat to my immediate starboard and looked at me semi-quizzically.
Not in the mood for shenanigans of any stripe, I give her the obligate Baja Canada nod and tilt of the drink. I return to my dossiers and continue to read and take notes.
“Excuse me!” I hear.
Fearing the worst, either the woman is Karen-oid anti-smoking or a religious fruit-and-nutburger, I slowly turn to face her and reply, somewhat glacially, I have to admit.
“What?”
“That cigar…”
“Here we go…” I mutter, eyes rolling northward.
“Smells exquisite. Could you tell me the brand? My husband would enjoy some like that.” She notes.
Instantly my demeanor switches 180^0.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an Arturo Fuentes Onyx. Churchill size, or 60 ring x 7” length, double Maduro. Here, take one for your husband. I have an ample supply.” I smile.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Could I?” she asks.
“Please. I insist.” I smile the best I could given the circumstances.
“Thank you. You’re too kind…umm…Mr….?”
“Doctor. Doctor Rocknocker. World traveler, oilman, and international ambassador of amity, good drinks, and fine cigars. Call me Rock” I said.
“Oh! A Doctor?” she brightens.
“Yes, of Petroleum Geology and Engineering. Not medicine.” I chuckle.
She chuckles back.
“And I am Hella Aaberg”, as she offers her hand for a quick shake.
“Interesting name, Hella. Scandinavian or Old German heritage?” I ask.
“On my father’s side. He’s Finnish.” She replies.
“But I’ll wager your mother is not Scandinavian, correct?” I ask.
“She was from Truk, an island…”
“In the South Pacific, Micronesia. Was she from Weno city?” I asked.
“Why yes. How could you possibly know that?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been there. Great diving amongst the WWII wrecks. I think it’s actually called ‘Chuuk Lagoon’ or something like that now.” I said.
“That’s right! Amazing. Where else have you been?” she asked.
“Anywhere there’s oil, strife, booze, cigars, heavy explosives and typically long distances from whatever most normal people call civilization,” I replied with a chuckle.
Suddenly, I hear a voice booming out behind me.
“Why don’t you save that rapier-like wit for those musky-fuckers back home, Rocko?”
My expression changes. My eyes pop fully wide open.
“Hella?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…”
“Thank you. Now, looking over my shoulder, is there a hulking goon of a person, thin up top, paunchy halfway down with the most ridiculously tiny sized shoes you’ve ever seen for a so-called grown man?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, there is.” She replies.
“I thought so. Many thanks.”
I spin and launch off my barstool and grab Toivo by the hand. He hadn’t seen my left-hand Thagomizer yet.
“Toivo! You old sumbitch. What the flying fennec fox fuck are you, of all people, doing in Hawaii?” I laughed.
“Just keeping an eye on you, Rock!” he laughed equally as loud.
“No, fucking-A, seriously. What the actual fuck? What are you doing in this actual nice place?” I asked.
“Just headed to Tokyo to conduct a bit of service company business. I walked into the lounge and smelled a foul cigar. I figured it can’t be the venerable Dr. Rocknocker. He’s back at some school up north terrorizing geology and engineering grads and undergrads.” Toivo laughed.
“But there I was. Surprise!”, I laughed and pumped his hand.
“What the fuck, Rock. Now what did you do?” he asks, referring to my Ankylosaur tail club left hand.
“Ah, fuck. Long story. Oh, pardon me. Toivo, this is Hella. We were just talking about the South Seas Islands.” I said.
“Planning on running off together?” Toivo laughs, to the amusement of neither party.
“Oh, and this idiot is Toivo, a man with a congenital foot-in-mouth disorder. He’s mostly harmless.” I noted to Hella.
Greetings were shared all around. Hella made some small excuses and said she needed to depart. I gave her another cigar for her husband, shook her hand, and wished her well.
“Here’s my business card. If your husband has any questions, have him drop me a line.” I noted.
Hella smiled beautifully. She said she would. Then she thanked me shook our hands, and like that, there she was, gone.
“Well Toivo, you old bastard. Don't just stand there in the doorway like some lonesome goddamn mouse shit sheepherder, get your ass over here and have a drink.” I motioned over to my perch on Mahogany Ridge.
“Don’t mind if I do”, he says as he deftly winds his way to a seat to my left, snagging a cigar out of my pocket on the way over.
“You might want these”, I say in an exasperated tone, and hand him my gold Dunhill Hobnail lighter and V-cutter gizmo.
He cuts and fires up his heater.
“What you drinkin’, Rock”, he asks.
“Anything with alcohol, as usual. You know that Toiv.” I reply.
“No. I mean right now.” He clarifies.
“Well, I had a Mai Tai. Very nice if you like fruity, flowery drinks. It’s the locals’ favorite.” I reply.
“Sounds good. I’ll have several. And you?” Toivo asks.
“My usual. The bartender is already apprised of the situation.” I reply.
Toivo smiles the smile of one knowing his sobriety is going to be taken out for a swim. Hell, taken out and tossed into the deep end.
Toivo and I sit there, swapping lies, smoking cigars and sipping at our toddies.
Hell, Toivo was slurping them like a sump-pump during an extra-wet summer.
We chattered about family, work, whether or not Tokyo was going to host the Olympics or if the COVID-boogie man scared everyone off.
Toivo, always one afflicted with TB (“Tiny Bladder”) got up to go to the loo for the third time that hour. He left his pocket organizer on the bar and I swear on a stack of Origins of Species, I didn’t touch it.
I reached over to his vacated seat to retrieve my cigar lighter when I looked down and saw in his organizer a tab that reads “Rack & Ruin”.
“Oh. No. Fucking. Way.” I recoiled as I’d just reached out and petted a 6-foot hungover scorpion.
“One of my best friends? Secretly allied with the Agency? No. Not possible.” I drained my drink and called for another.
“No. No. No. It can’t be. No. No fucking way…” as doubt began to dissolve when I thought back to all those times I had just ‘run into’ Toivo.
“But he’s oil patch as well. That could be chalked up to coincidence.” I ruminated quizzically in my brain.
I quickly reflected back on J.M. Darhower: “Yes, you see, there’s no such thing as coincidence. There are no accidents in life. Everything that happens is the result of a calculated move that leads us to where we are.”
She may be the author of the execrable New Adult Sempre series, which Esme likes and I loathe, but she might just be right on this occasion.
Toivo return, lighter in the bladder and good sense. He never even noticed he’d left his organizer out in broad bar light for all to see.
“So, Toivo, when’s your flight?” I ask.
“Oh, man. Was I lucky. The JAL flight to Tokyo from Los Angeles had mechanical trouble and had to divert here. I got a ticket on the plane for that flight, when it continues.
“You mean ‘if it continues’,” I replied.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I meant. Hey! Was that your flight?” he asks innocently. He’s really innocent of fieldcraft.
I decide to have some fun at my old friend’s expense.
“Yep. Hit some CAT (Clear Air Turbulence) and the JAL pilots reported some lighting problem. No apparent ruin to any of the systems. They relay racked their brains to figure it out, but they couldn’t that’s why I here.” I said, waiting for the words to swim upstream in Toivo’s coconut and make some sort of connection.
“Yeah. Double lucky. No problem with the plane and I get to go to Japan early.” Toivo crookedly grins.
“So, no trouble with the plane? Then why haven’t I heard that the flight’s going to resume?” I asked as I pushed a fresh, seriously strong drink to Toivo.
“Oh, must have heard it in the john.” Toivo countered and tried to cover his tracks by taking a huge gulp of his drink and damn near dying coughing.
I pound on Toivo’s back.
“Heimlich time?” I ask.
Toivo signals ‘no’.
“Jesus Christ, Rock. What was that?” he asks.
“Just my usual”, I innocently replied.
“Holy fuck. No wonder you have the reputation of…” Toivo realizes too late that he’s said too much.
“Yeah. They can rack you out. Really ruin a person if they’re not careful.” I reply icily.
“Why, Rock. Whatever do you mean?” Toivo slurred as he realized he’s been caught out.
“The jig is up, you turncoat. You know Agents Rack and Ruin from the agency. Right? You keeping tabs on me for them? You Quisling! You Benedict Arnold!” I almost was on the verge of losing my cool.
“It was nothing. They approached me years ago as I kept being mentioned in your reports. They asked me for some information. One thing leads to another…” Toivo was ready for an Ankylosaur tail club swat to the bean.
“Oh, put your fucking hands down, you asshole.” I smiled and chuckled.
“You’re not mad?” Toivo slurred badly. I had the bartender make him another special drink.
“No, Toivo. Not mad. Just disappointed.” I said, smiling like a Komodo Dragon just finishing up a fortnight-old wildebeest.
Toivo sat there and puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore.
“You’re not going to kill me or anything rude like that?” Toivo asked, half-assedly trying to inject humor into the proceedings.
“Nah. The paperwork’s too ridiculous for me to do another liberation. But, Jesus Fucking Christwagons, Toivo; you could have mentioned it to me. Fuck, I thought we were friends to the end?” I said, dejectedly.
I was really getting through to Toivo. I could tell he was loaded; feeling like shit and massively deplorable.
Great fieldcraft, indeed.
I told him things “are what they are” and that I won’t blow his cover nor his honorarium.
He began to feel better. I often wonder if he was serious about the sanctioning thing.
Then I delivered the strategic missile strike.
“Just remember, Toivo. I wrote your dossier for the Company…”
He swivels to look at me.
“And one for the KGB. Olga says ‘howdy’.” I grin evilly.
Toivo short-circuited at that. Russia is his company’s bread and butter. Now he has the KGB as well as his best buddy looking over his shoulder at every move.
I bought him a few more drinks and continued to needle him about his ’leading a double life’. He was well and truly fuckered when the electric tap-tap driver from before came looking for me to whisk me back to the plane.
Seems it was simply some knocked-out wires on the plane, or slammed bulbs that were generating a false positive, indicating something other than the system that alerts one to something haywire went haywire.
Toivo was pretty much down for the count. I got him sober enough to hand them his ticket and ensure that he was really supposed to be on this flight. Thing was; h e was in Economy, and I was, as always, in Business.
I spoke to Luna, and the plane was going to be even less crowded than previously because some folks could or wouldn’t wait, or didn’t want to go on with the rest of the trip on a ‘damaged’ aircraft, or were just stupid and superstitious.
“Luna, could I pay for the difference between Business and Economy for my less than 100% conscious friend here? He’s had a rough day.” I asked.
“Dr. Rock. Just put him into Business. No one will be the wiser. Luna says so.” As she gave us a grand smile.
“Luna, I owe you. Thanks so much.” I said.
“Now get on board. Your friend looks like he needs all the downtime he can get.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I said and saluted here be best I could which dragging a schnozzled Toivo down the jetway.
I dumped Toivo in a window seat well away from my seat. I know Toivo. He snores like a semi-load of live hogs rocketing downhill locking up the brakes at 88 MPH.
Surprise! There was no one else in Business. Luna looked at me, at Toivo, and gave me a thumbs up.
Whatever I can write to further her career at JAL, she’ll have it before I deplane.
We finally get everyone settled, and with Captain Kangaroo at the helm, we bounced gracelessly off the tarmac, into the warm, tropical Hawaiian air, finally headed for the Land of the Rising Sun.
Toivo was snoring like a chainsaw hitting rusty nails as I worked on the various letters, communiques, and dossiers which needed updating before we reached touchdown. I gave Luna a thick letter with instructions not to open it until we were on the ground and Toivo and I were well off and away into the terminal.
We left Hawaii at 1300 hours, so we should arrive at Tokyo Nareda around 4:00 pm, the previous day. I was so bereft of time and time zones, I couldn’t figure out what time it really was, as judged by my biometric rhythms, so I asked Luna for a stiff drink as I was kicking off my boots and going to attempt to get some kip.
She brought me another liter or so eponymous drink. I was sawing logs by the time I slurped the last swig of that nifty drink.
Suddenly, or later, I have no idea really, some loudmouth drunk asshole from way-the-fuck-back in economy-land toward the ass end of the plane staggered into Business demanding free drinks.
Luna was nothing but civil, and asked him to both shut up and return to his seat. His air cabin hostess, or whatever the fuck they’re calling them these days, will attend to his needs.
“Naw they won’t! They want me to pay for more drinks! I’m broke but I demand more booze! You fucking owe me.” railed the asshole. “I sat at the bar in Hawaii for four hours. Them fuckers charged me an arm and a leg!”
“No, they don’t owe you shit”, I said in a voice that unmistakably loud and clear.
“Fuck you, old man! You stay the fuck out of this!” he bellowed. “Shut up or I’ll do ya’!”
“’Old man’? ‘Do me’? Excuse me. Luna, may I have a word alone with this individual?” I asked sweetly.
Luna shook her head in the affirmative, and I stood up to confront this flagrant asshole.
“Now look, Scooter. You have gone way, way over the fucking line. You are loud. You are abusive. You are obnoxious. And you stink. Plus you insulted a person who is just barely containing his righteous wrath right now. So, I’m giving you one and one only chance to shut up, sit back down before your body spontaneously develops all sort of bruises, contusions, broken bones, and unconsciousness.” I said calmly, evenly, and threateningly.
“What da’ fuck you think you’re going to do…old man?” he screeched, trying to inflate himself into full mammalian threat posture, all 5’ 9” of it.
He didn’t notice Toivo walking up quietly behind him, as Toivo was returning from the head, quiet as a moose.
“Well, Scooter, I am an Air Marshall. Duly appointed, fully trained, and properly pissed off. Right now, I can arrest you, physically detain you, turn this flight around and take you to the Hawaiian police, at your cost for the inconvenience of the entire flight. Or I could arrest you, physically detain you, and turn you over to the Japanese authorities when we land. It’s really your choice. Choose wisely.”
To be continued…⇝

Alright, so this happened about 6 months ago but it still bothers me from time to time. My wife (29) and I (26) have been married 5 years now and I never had any reason to snoop through her phone until one day she confessed that she had started smoking cigarettes again which was a big deal. My dad got cancer from tobacco and died when I was in high school and I told her that she had to quit if we were going to be in a relationship. She did quit but apparently had started again and had been hiding it from me for about 6 months. I’ve always been able to tell when she smoked before but she was working a job at a casino so obviously I just assumed that’s where the smell was coming from.
Anyway, this revelation made me more suspicious of her and I started paying attention to everything she did. I guess finding out that she had the potential to hide things from me shattered my trust in her. I noticed she was constantly on her phone texting way more than she ever was and I would catch her waking up to text late at night. But it was more than just the texting because I noticed her mood had changed. She seemed irritable and there were many occasions where she was so focused on her phone she would completely ignore the kids. I felt like I was constantly having to answer the kids for her because otherwise they would just keep saying “mom” over and over while she was zoned out. Anyway, all of thid is what led me to check the text logs through my AT&T app. I could see the numbers and the times only but i was able to write down the number she was messaging so often. At that point I decided I was going to read through her messages to get to the truth. I didn’t know her password but I was able to peek over her shoulder once to memorize it. It felt wrong but I figured if I saw the messages and it was nothing then I wouldn’t bring it up. So, I decided that night I would wait for her to fall asleep and look through her phone. Of course, when I searched her phone for the phone number I saw in the logs it was some nickname that was unrecognizable and there were zero messages between them because she had deleted them all. I was pissed shaking at this point. I was pacing back and forth trying to decide if I should confront her about it or if I should wait and calm down first. I wasn’t sure what to do but she woke up right after I put her phone back asking me what was wrong. I sat down on the bed and asked her why she was deleting her messages and she just sighed. She explained that it wasn’t what I was thinking. She said the main reason why she deleted them was because they talked about something that happened to her as a kid that she never told anyone, not even me, and that she didn’t want me to find out because she thought I would treat her differently. Without going into detail she was molested once by a family member that was just a couple years older. Now I don’t doubt that that was discussed and I understand her reasoning for keeping that part from me but there were weeks of constant texting between them that I know couldn’t have been all about that one incident.
After some prying she told me a lot about what was supposedly talked about. She admitted that she did complain about me sometimes and that they did send selfies but she insisted it was never anything inappropriate (although in my mind that is inappropriate). She also said that they talked about BDSM. This guy was evidently in the “lifestyle.” That was something that she tried getting me into a year or so after we married but I was just not ready to get into “dominating” at the time. I was a virgin when we got together so plain sex was still plenty exciting for me. I even offered to give that stuff another chance but she shot me down saying she was only curious about the dynamic but she didn’t want that anymore. So at this point I was feeling pretty low. She was talking to this guy way more than she was to me and spending a lot of time with him. He’s a cop and at the time all of this was happening she worked dispatch and went on a few ride-a-longs with him which is how they met.
All of this shit coming out ate me up because I felt like my whole life was about to crumble. She made some comments during our talks after the incident that made me think she was thinking about leaving. Talking about how she wouldn’t stay in a loveless marriage even for the kids and that she could imagine being on her own.
We had not had sex in at least a month before this and I for some reason thought if we had sex that would maybe help us connect again. That ended up being a terrible decision because she just laid there and I came really fast (It had been awhile ok). Worst sex ever and I felt like we were done in that moment. Fast forward a week and she had a totally changed attitude. She said she felt good about everything and that it was her monthly cycle and hormones that made her feel like she could leave. Hard to believe but she really did seem more like herself.
I know from the outside it probably seems pretty cut and dry but I should say that she was cheated on in a previous marriage and from the beginning that was something that she always said was absolutely unacceptable in a relationship. And I’ll admit that I sometimes got caught up doing my own thing and didn’t pay attention to her as much as I should have and that opened the door for her to find others to vent to. She has since not deleted any messages. I’ve asked for phone and she has given it to me and the messages line up with the logs. She still talks to the person on occasion but it’s work talk. No more far too personal stuff being discussed, at least as far as I know. Our relationship is better than before except when I get these random doubts that creep in from time to time and make me question if I have been told the truth.
p.s. Before this I was very confident in our relationship and confident in myself. I was never the jealous type and never kept tabs on my wife. Like I seriously never had even the slightest desire to snoop through her stuff. But now, I have this doubt in the back of my mind that is telling me I’ve been cheated on. I have no proof and no way of finding out what was really going on. I just have to take my wife’s word and hope that’s the truth.
*I wrote all of this^ several months ago but I left it as draft because I felt a little better just getting it out at the time; however, I’m posting it now because I checked her phone again randomly and discovered that once again she has deleted messages between this guy. I told her I wouldn’t go through her phone again. I don’t know what to do.

She woke up this morning to me on her phone (intentionally) asking why she was deleting messages again. She of course was mad that I had gone through her phone without asking once more but I made her listen this time. I told her that I was not going to apologize for invading her privacy because it was her fault that I no longer trusted her. I made it clear that everything that happened was on her. We ended up having a pretty good talk. She said she was willing to break all contact with the guy except what she couldn’t control at work. They work the same shift. But she told him that she was no longer going to be talking to him beyond work stuff and then she blocked him, which was good.
So, a little later after our talk, I was reading some of the comments to this post when she asked me what I was doing. I told her exactly what I was doing and she asked to read my post and all of the comments. I agreed and handed her my phone. After reading everything she broke down crying. At this point she FINALLY understood and realized what she had done to me. I have to say, I truly believe that their relationship never progressed into a physical one but I think it certainly had the potential if I never caught her and confronted her in the first place. However, I still felt like I had been cheated on and this is the part she ignored before. In her mind, she hadn’t cheated because there wasn’t anything physical going on between them. It was this revelation that she had indeed cheated on me emotionally that really hit home. She was genuinely heartbroken. I could see it. Crying, she apologized for everything she put me through and for not understanding how deeply this affected me. She finally took responsibility for her actions.
I honestly feel like we can move on from this now that all of this is out in the open. Also, she said she is willing to go to marriage counseling or to use a gps tracker or anything else that will give me piece of mind.
Original Post Below
Caught wife deleting text messages
Alright, so this happened about 6 months ago but it still bothers me from time to time. My wife (29) and I (26) have been married 5 years now and I never had any reason to snoop through her phone until one day she confessed that she had started smoking cigarettes again which was a big deal. My dad got cancer from tobacco and died when I was in high school and I told her that she had to quit if we were going to be in a relationship. She did quit but apparently had started again and had been hiding it from me for about 6 months. I’ve always been able to tell when she smoked before but she was working a job at a casino so obviously I just assumed that’s where the smell was coming from.
Anyway, this revelation made me more suspicious of her and I started paying attention to everything she did. I guess finding out that she had the potential to hide things from me shattered my trust in her. I noticed she was constantly on her phone texting way more than she ever was and I would catch her waking up to text late at night. But it was more than just the texting because I noticed her mood had changed. She seemed irritable and there were many occasions where she was so focused on her phone she would completely ignore the kids. I felt like I was constantly having to answer the kids for her because otherwise they would just keep saying “mom” over and over while she was zoned out. Anyway, all of thid is what led me to check the text logs through my AT&T app. I could see the numbers and the times only but i was able to write down the number she was messaging so often. At that point I decided I was going to read through her messages to get to the truth. I didn’t know her password but I was able to peek over her shoulder once to memorize it. It felt wrong but I figured if I saw the messages and it was nothing then I wouldn’t bring it up. So, I decided that night I would wait for her to fall asleep and look through her phone. Of course, when I searched her phone for the phone number I saw in the logs it was some nickname that was unrecognizable and there were zero messages between them because she had deleted them all. I was pissed shaking at this point. I was pacing back and forth trying to decide if I should confront her about it or if I should wait and calm down first. I wasn’t sure what to do but she woke up right after I put her phone back asking me what was wrong. I sat down on the bed and asked her why she was deleting her messages and she just sighed. She explained that it wasn’t what I was thinking. She said the main reason why she deleted them was because they talked about something that happened to her as a kid that she never told anyone, not even me, and that she didn’t want me to find out because she thought I would treat her differently. Without going into detail she was molested once by a family member that was just a couple years older. Now I don’t doubt that that was discussed and I understand her reasoning for keeping that part from me but there were weeks of constant texting between them that I know couldn’t have been all about that one incident.
After some prying she told me a lot about what was supposedly talked about. She admitted that she did complain about me sometimes and that they did send selfies but she insisted it was never anything inappropriate (although in my mind that is inappropriate). She also said that they talked about BDSM. This guy was evidently in the “lifestyle.” That was something that she tried getting me into a year or so after we married but I was just not ready to get into “dominating” at the time. I was a virgin when we got together so plain sex was still plenty exciting for me. I even offered to give that stuff another chance but she shot me down saying she was only curious about the dynamic but she didn’t want that anymore. So at this point I was feeling pretty low. She was talking to this guy way more than she was to me and spending a lot of time with him. He’s a cop and at the time all of this was happening she worked dispatch and went on a few ride-a-longs with him which is how they met.
All of this shit coming out ate me up because I felt like my whole life was about to crumble. She made some comments during our talks after the incident that made me think she was thinking about leaving. Talking about how she wouldn’t stay in a loveless marriage even for the kids and that she could imagine being on her own.
We had not had sex in at least a month before this and I for some reason thought if we had sex that would maybe help us connect again. That ended up being a terrible decision because she just laid there and I came really fast (It had been awhile ok). Worst sex ever and I felt like we were done in that moment. Fast forward a week and she had a totally changed attitude. She said she felt good about everything and that it was her monthly cycle and hormones that made her feel like she could leave. Hard to believe but she really did seem more like herself.
I know from the outside it probably seems pretty cut and dry but I should say that she was cheated on in a previous marriage and from the beginning that was something that she always said was absolutely unacceptable in a relationship. And I’ll admit that I sometimes got caught up doing my own thing and didn’t pay attention to her as much as I should have and that opened the door for her to find others to vent to. She has since not deleted any messages. I’ve asked for phone and she has given it to me and the messages line up with the logs. She still talks to the person on occasion but it’s work talk. No more far too personal stuff being discussed, at least as far as I know. Our relationship is better than before except when I get these random doubts that creep in from time to time and make me question if I have been told the truth.
p.s. Before this I was very confident in our relationship and confident in myself. I was never the jealous type and never kept tabs on my wife. Like I seriously never had even the slightest desire to snoop through her stuff. But now, I have this doubt in the back of my mind that is telling me I’ve been cheated on. I have no proof and no way of finding out what was really going on. I just have to take my wife’s word and hope that’s the truth.
*I wrote all of this^ several months ago but I left it as draft because I felt a little better just getting it out at the time; however, I’m posting it now because I checked her phone again randomly and discovered that once again she has deleted messages between this guy. I told her I wouldn’t go through her phone again. I don’t know what to do.

This one is a doozy...
So, a fateful day around 2010ish I was in that dingleberry of a swampy butthole of land known as Fort Polk doing my train up for a deployment. That's a fucking story in itself.
Anyhow, the end of the rotation had occurred, the war against whatever made up name country was won, and we were returning from Polky-land to our dependapotamuses. I was on a contact high as I was personally selected to be a part of my Battalion Commander's personal security detachment and all our joes were hand-selected by the Platoon Leader, Platoon Sergeant, and myself so we had a really awesome platoon. How awesome? When we did an escort mission with the Chaplain meeting with local religious leader, at the end, our division chaplain told us that "You guys fucking rocked that shit. Gave me a fucking hardon. That's what this division is all about. Fuck yeah."
Preach on brother.
Fast forward, fast forward.
Anyhow, my Platoon Sergeant came to me and told me I needed to go to the bay where my Commander and First Sergeant were. My first thought was of deep consideration and reflection.
"Shit." This can't be good.
When I arrive, my First Sergeant's first question to me "Do you have government travel card?" I nodded a confirmation from our Operation BS in Egypt. He looks at me and says "No, you don't." What fucking Jedi mindtrick is this? Did I forget to pay off a debt? Will I be summoned straight to the Division CSM for a beheading as seems to be the operating procedure whenever government travel cards payments come into question. Casually, my commander slides a brigade memorandum towards me and motions for me to read it.
I start reading and realize it's a tasking memorandum stating what each company will provide from brigade.
Alpha Company...
Two NCOs and three soldiers. "Suckers."
Bravo Company...
Three soldiers. "Nerds."
Charlie Company...
Three E6 NCOs. "Lol, loooossers..."
Delta Company...
Staff Sergeant Pickleindabutt. "well fuck me in the butt."
BY NAME?! I was the only fucking individual chosen by MY GOD DAMN FULL NAME in this memorandum. How does brigade even know I exist? Why am I being tasked directly? Who put this memo together and how the fuck did they know my name. Who the fuck volun-told my name without me receiving a whisper of such curse. Suddenly it dawned on me and I realized what this tasking needed me for.
"^hazmat"
Apparently I was the only person in brigade who could effectively fill out the forms for our HAZMAT containers. It started where I was just doing it for the company, moved to me declaring for battalion, and now BRIGADE is tracking me. AMO-62 qualification got me again and I was hand selected because my paperwork was the only one that kept getting cleared so they came after me.
My dudes and dudettes, I literally volunteered for this course to get me out of a field exercise so I could watch the SEC championship - no shit. I was a dumb grunt and I didn't even know what the course was and just wanted to get my Roll Tide on. I get there for class and they're like "This is for declaring hazardous material for shipment by land, sea, air, teleportation pods, Skynet time travel, and rail." My dumb ass E5 self was like "Lol, when the hell does any infantry dude declare HAZMAT. Cake."
A week later I was declaring HAZMAT for my brigade to Haiti so shows how well I could foreshadow things. You know how my paperwork always made it through? Let's break down the process.
Me arrive. Me find MSDSs for hazmat. Me find civilian inspector who is overshadowing the process.
"Yo, how do you want me to fill this out." Everyone else would be digging around the CFR 49 and I was just like "Lol, I can't read. Let me find the civilian who makes a career of this and ask them." And that's how I became the HAZMAT guy.
Fast forward, fast forward.
So now I'm part of a tasking that is ensuring our containers make it out of Beaumont, Texas. I already came to Polk on advance parties where I basically had AT&T screaming at me to stop using data while I watched all the episodes of Breaking Bad that was available at the time. Now I'm not even the rear detachment, I'm the past - I'm on fucking ice basically, a forgotten artifact of my brigade's Polk rotation. "Yall remember that one Staff Sergeant?... He told funny jokes... Whatever happened to him? I seem to recall him telling his soldiers to run over g-men at Polk whenever they surrounded his humvee while blatantly ignoring that a 50 cal was rocking them the whole time and then he just... vanished."
Fast forward, fast forward.
Me and two others will be grabbing a rental and driving to Beaumont. God damnit, I deploy in a few weeks and I'm already getting less time with my succubus future exwife that has a spending habit that makes Target wet thinking about it. Anyway, they move me to the brigade's bay. If you've never been to Polk, they have these hangers where they just stick a metric-fuck-ton of bunk beds when you're field rotation is over and you're either leaving or preparing for war with the g-men. The g-men are the Louisiana equivalent of Taliban and should never be trusted. They call themselves soldiers but they are the true enemy. While you're sludging through the swamps and wondering if you're in Vietnam, they come out of no where with their significantly enhanced miles laser gear and somehow your miles can never kill them. You just hear the beep of death of your gear to inform you that traitorous scum g-men nailed you. Probably for killing a Staff Sergeant they get a three day weekend or something.
So, here I am in the brigade headquarters and we just acquired a rental car with a fellow NCO and fresh out of the officer-oven Lieutenant. Lieutenant asks a fateful question "You guys want to go off base." Unfortunately I came to fight the g-men and did not know I was going to be traveling so I had no civilian clothes. So, we agree to go to Wal-Mart in town so I can buy the cheapest of the cheap threads since my wife at the time absolutely had to buy "live, laugh, love" useless items from retail stores at an alarming rate.
Listen to me, Polk is the middle of no where. It is a fucking swamp. I hated going there. I literally would shake the hands of people stationed there and tell them "You're in my thoughts and prayers." The place has a random wild horse herd and farm animals all over the place because people just dump their animals there. I had never left the base before and when we drove off I was basically like "Oh my..." It was like driving into a Flannery O'Connor novel but with strip clubs. There is absolutely nothing in Leesville but several strip clubs, a Wal-Mart, some shitty steakhouse, and trailers. Listen, I'm from Alabama and I was even like "Fuck. This isn't even deep south this is deepest south."
So anyway, I buy the literal cheapest threads from Wal-Mart for my journey to Beaumont and we decide to go into one of the strip clubs for a few drinks and... holy shit, this place was the most Jabba the Hutt's palace experience I have ever had except instead of Leia they had Jaba on the poles. I quietly order a beer, get propositioned for a backroom dance from a human opossum and could only quietly respond "No thank you I'm Christian" in an attempt to ward off others, and wonder how the fuck am I going to get this LT to drink his beer faster so we can fucking leave.
Fast forward, fast forward.
We finally arrived to Beaumont and check in our hotel. I'm suffering from a wicked hangover from the night before in Lake Charles which had about 10 women for each male at the bar we went to. When we get to the hotel, we all agree that we just want to get some food and the clerk recommends this Cajun themed restaurant down the road. We go there and there were no tables but three open seats at the bar so we chose that. As always, Army guys are only just going to talk about the fucking Army so we proceed with our usual dose of bitching and whinnying.
Suddenly, this older gent leads forward sitting beside us and says "YALL IN THE SERVICE?!"
"Sure 'nuff."
"YALL DEPLOYED!?"
"We have and we're heading back to Iraq in a few months."
"FOOD AND DRINKS ON ME - BARTENDER, SHOTS OF TEQUILA FOR ALL OF US AND MY MISSUS"
"That's not necessary sir we-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP. FOOD - DRINKS ON ME."
And that's how I met who I will refer to as Chief. I call him Chief because later he told me he was a Navy veteran and later he told me he was a Seal - like 98% of Navy veterans you meet. Chief had his lovely girlfriend with him and was the loudest fucking Texan in a bar full of Texans. He was pretty funny but mind you I'm still dealing with this wicked hangover and really just wanted sleep. We eat our respective meals and have a few more shots and beers.
"WHAT'S YOUR PLANS TONIGHT!?"
"We're tired so we were just goin-"
"NOT IN MY TOWN ON A FRIDAY NIGHT. YOU BOYS ARE MEETING UP WITH ME."
"That's really not neces-"
"YOU HAVE TO TAKE MY OFFER BECAUSE I PAID YOUR MEALS AND DRINKS AND YOU'D BE DICKS IF OTHERWISE, MEET ME AT CHILI'S."
Well, fuck. Fair point. We ended up driving to this random Chili's after exchanging texts with them and shit. My LT is all worked up and excited like a puppy because he's hoping they're a rich couple who want to rain down upon us the riches of the world for THX 4 UR SERVICE. I'm more in the tune of thought that they're swingers and probably want untie one of our balloon knots in some heated up sexcapade.
All the sudden, this SUPED the fuck up Mustang pulls up beside us.
"HEY YALL SEEN SOME ARMY DOUCHEBAGS!?" as the window rolls down.
"I'm sorry, we're not like submarines or Marines, you can't go down on us sir."
"HA! LET'S SEE IF THAT PIECE OF SHIT CAN KEEP UP"
"It's a fucking rental Dodge of course it won't-" his Mustang goes flying off 2 Fast 2 Furious style. The Lieutenant is driving as I watch this Mustang Toyko-fucking-drift into the highway.
"Slow down and ask him the location by text. I don't want to die on the road." So Chief proceeds to text us the location of where they are heading. And of course, strip club. We pull up and it's about the nicest fucking strip club I have ever seen. Polar opposite to that fucking swamp trailer we had seen before. I'm walking in my Wal-Mart bin threads clothes like "Fuck I'm not dressed for this shit."
There's another couple with Chief now who introduce themselves to us. They're roughly around his age and married. Oh yeah, we are totally in a swinger situation. One of us is going to have to pay the dues and it isn't me. We walk in and sit down at this table and this place is two stories. Huge. Multiple dancers everywhere.
"ALL DRINKS ON ME, YOU WANT A DANCE, PUT IT ON MY CARD." He then proceeds to pull out $300 in ones and shuffles them to each of us so we total $100 each. Dude. WTF is this. Then he proceeds to buy a tray of jello shots and puts that on the table. At this time, a Mafiaso looking dude walks up to us in a nice suit.
"Thank you for getting the VIP section. Just so you're aware, you will have to purchase a $500 dollar bottle of champagne or a $1000 bottle." What. The. Fuck. We're in the VIP section of this club? Holy shit, how much does that cost? Here I am dressed in clothes that probably in total cost $17.67 and about to be drinking a bottle of $500 champagne.
"I DON'T WANT CHAMPAGNE! I WANT SOME REAL LIQUOR!" Gents and gentettes, I proceed to watch this man argue with the owner that he wants Captain Morgan over champagne. I am now at a loss of processing this TDY adventure. Finally the owner agrees to Captain Morgan but it will still cost $500 dollars.
He agrees. I just witnessed a man pay $500 dollars for a bottle of Captain Morgan. That I am almost positive that we never opened. I shit you not. I am holding back on throwing this dude's cash around because I'm still worried about the whole swinger aspect and them getting some soldier butthole later in the night when the festivities end.
Fast forward, fast forward.
Night ends. We bid our farewells to Chief and his friends. None of us was required to fuck one of them. Other NCO didn't drink at all so he drives us back to the hotel so we can finally crash. We do. TDY adventure now can get official and we can focus on our containers like professionals...
Hold fast. Rewind, rewind.
It's a Saturday. We don't have shit we can do. I'm awoken early in the morning by a knock at my door in which I answer and the Lieutenant is standing there with Chief on speaker yelling about jet-skis or some shit. wat?
"He said he told you that we were going on his boat today." Umm.... negative.
"MEET ME AT THE DOCKS" Chief yells on the phone and hangs up.
So, we ended up meeting them at whatever lake is near Beaumont and let me tell you what... I would have given up my butthole for the amount of fun we had on his boat and jet skis. Jesus Christ, that was one of the funnest days of my life. I had never ridden a jet ski before but was going nuts on it. In less than two hours of meeting up with him, I'm driving a jet ski for the first time in my life trying to keep up with his fucking boat so I don't lose him. I don't really have much to add to that but god damn jet skis are amazing.
Fast forward, fast forward.
So we get the boat back to the dock and, in case I didn't mention, it was Chief, his girlfriend, and the other couple I mentioned before. I hear them talking about going to some boat casino with a Jack Daniels restaurant. Chief's friend keeps telling me they make a steak that is so good you will want to "fuck it on the floor to relieve your erection" which I believe is a high compliment. They get ready to leave and we bid our farewells.
"THE FUCK ARE YALL TALKING ABOUT, SEE YOU THERE." Well okay, I guess we're going to a boat casino lol wtf. We go to a casino and they park the boat at the docks. I proceed to watch these fools drop mad money after eating a steak that I'm not sure I would call floor fucking worthy but pretty damn good. They then proceed to go nuts on the gambling. I mean fucking leaving me at their table with like $1,000 dollars so they could take a quick piss and I don't even gamble so I just stood there like a lost child. At one point, I notice Chief is missing so I decide to go check his boat.
Lo and behold, there he is swimming in the dock with his boat blaring music loud as fuck. As I am walking towards the concert, there is literally a party of people dancing to his music outside of a hotel room on a balcony. I walk down and he's climbing back in. About this time, the other NCO from my merry band of adventurers walks up to. Chief asks what service-members carry now in the Army and proceeds to pull a glock out of his boat glove compartment.
Alrighty now... I don't really care much for someone to be intoxicated and holding a gun. "Hey you should probably put-"
BANG
Mother. Fucker. Fucking. Fuck. FUCK. He totally just fired a round into the water. We are at a god damn casino and on the casino property. We are so about to taken the fuck down into depths of hell that I have never seen before. That dancing crew that I mentioned early, they're gone. Andddddd here comes security. Two behemoths of security guards heading our way. Once again, I go into the fucking zone and start walking towards them.
"HEY DID SOMEONE FIRE A GUN OVER HERE!?"
"Hey brother, that shit scared the fuck out of me."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN?"
"It must have been like a boat backfire or something. I thought for sure it was a gunshot at first. I think the water made it sound weird. Scared the fuck out of me."
"How do you know it wasn't!?"
"Oh I'm in the Army bro. That shit made me think someone was shooting at us."
"Oh... Okay... You cool?"
"Yeah, I'm good man. Just spooked me."
"You need a drink? On the house if nee-"
"Nah, I'm good man. Thank you though. Have a nice night."
And that's how I avoided being taken into casino prison.
Fast forward, fast forward.
We bid our farewells and return back to the hotel. Sunday I get a call from Chief's friend who I will refer to as "Victor" calls me and asks if we would like to get a few Sunday beers. We agree and meet at this chill local bar and are just shooting the shit.
District Attorney for the area happen to be sitting in there and buys us rounds. God damn Texas really does fucking love the military, Jesus. At this time another older gentleman that knows Victor sits beside me and greets Victor. He asks me if I had deployed and I told him I had and was heading back over.
"I thought my war was bad, I feel bad for your situation with those bombs they put on the roads. Scary stuff."
"You were in?"
"Army, Vietnam. I was a forward observer."
This dude then proceeds to tell me stories about hiding in the brush from dog handlers who were hunting them down since they were forward observers. He proceeds to mention that if it wasn't for some Native American teaching them how to hide their scent, he would have been found. Basically learned how to rub shit on themselves so they could evade dog handlers. I'm sitting there in dismay at how he felt bad for my war... I may have gone into Iraqi shit creeks more than I cared for but I wasn't purposely rubbing shit in my hair so I could be behind deadly frontlines.
He then proceeds to talk about a battle he was in. How they were being overran at one point by the Vietnamese.
"We lost a lot of good men that day. Lots of friends." A slight tear rolls down his cheek and I saw him brush it away. You can usually spot a bull shitter with their gloats of heroism and valor. You know you're dealing with a man who had seen some shit when eyes water. A man who had seen some real hard shit in the bush. I could be wrong but I got the feeling he was the type that buried his experiences deep into his mind and never really got the chance to express his memories. He was a successful construction owner but I'm sure he still has nights judging by what he was telling me. Only to be probably spit on when he came home.
He asks to be excused so he can piss.
"I never knew he was in the service nor in Vietnam..." Victor says.
"I've known him for over 15 years and I had no clue." Bartender says.
Gentleman comes back and I ask if I can buy him a beer for his service as he had bought one for me. He agrees. Victor ended up picking up the tab before I could pay for that round. God damnit can I not fucking pay for anything here? I give him a firm handshake when I leave and tell him it was nice to meet him. Later I gave Victor my Combat Infantryman Badge and asked him to give it to the gentleman. Tell him I appreciate him telling me stories and mad respect for a man who had been through some real shit. While we were talking, he said something along the lines of not getting anything like infantry guys. Normally this would be debate worthy to me but I'm not saying shit to this gentleman. He's been through it.
"Does it mean anything when I give it to him?"
"Means essentially nothing but maybe it will be something to him."
Fast forward. I'm going to skip the part of going to a Roller Derby team after-party at a strip club where I saw behemoth sized women picking up strippers and toss money at them left and right. That was another doozy of a day. They were more crazy in the strip club than I had ever seen any crowd be.... Coming from a survivor of Fayettenam's strip club venues, that means something.
Alright. I'm on my final day and I've left a fuck ton more shit out of this story that occurred down in Beaumont for respectful reasons. We had to leave abruptly so I was on my last night. I went down to the hotel bar that I had gone into a few times. The bartender Steve was like the youngest 50 year old dude I had ever seen. I thought he was younger than me. Apparently my man Steve is a millionaire with a landscaping business and I ask him why he bartends and he says "Because of the funny fucking stories I get to hear from dudes like you." Oh, okay, word.
This other dude is sitting beside me and asks if I was in the Army as I well telling Steve the shit show of an experience I had since being in Beaumont.
"I was in too. I didn't go overseas or nothing like you did." I then proceed to have a very meaningful conversation with this dude on how he shouldn't look at it that way. He served and if called upon, he would have answered too. I offer to buy him a drink. He agrees and I ask Steve for a glass of their best scotch at the bar for both of us. I'm paying something in this god damn town before I leave. Just fucking something. I haven't dropped a dollar since Wal-Mart basically and this place has been so fucking kind to me, I'm putting something into Beaumont's economy. So help me God.
We talk. We finish our drinks. We shake hands. He departs. I look at Steve and realize that this will wrap up this adventure. My precious Beautmont adventure. What a time. You have been so kind and generous to me. Now it's time to pay for something for this town. Here we go.
"Get me tab Steve."
"It's on the house, Pickleindabutt."
FUUUUUUUUUUUCK.
I go on this rant about how everyone is paying everything for me and fuck let me just buy a round. Steve is laughing at me and refuses.
"JUST LET ME BUY AN RC COLA STEVE, SHIT!"
I finally convince him to give me $0.00 receipt and leave him a $20 dollar tip.
The next day we get back into uniform and realize we grossly did not estimate our trip to the airport accurately at all so we are speeding away from lovely Beaumont to whatever airport we needed to get to in Louisiana. While speeding we get pulled over by some Louisiana state trooper. He walks up to the passenger side where I am sitting at.
"Who the hell do you think you are speeding like - what the hell, yall going to war or something?" when he sees the uniforms.
"Well, we're trying to make our flight at the so we can go to Iraq."
Ehhh, not a lie necessarily...
"Alright, after you pass the next state trooper at the end of the coming construction zone, you should be able to gun it the rest of the way there. Be safe now!" Wasn't expecting that response but we'll take it.
And that was that. I went back to Fort Bragg. Beaumont's adventure was over and I somehow managed to survive. I came back on a regular workday night and went to bed. Woke up to my Staff Duty desk calling me at like 5am and my dumb ass Sergeant Major was on the line which is not what I wanted...
"Hey SSG Pickle! Were you trying to fucking kill yourself!?"
Dear God, did my Sergeant Major catch wind of all that was going down in Beaumont. I wasn't posting it on social media. Does he know the shennanigans? We got the containers through. Did he catch rumors of his Staff Sergeant parading around in strip clubs, almost crashing a jet ski, partying with Roller Derby girls, having to sit around a hospital waiting area for a day, being selected to be a special guest for a crawfish cook-off... Could they question my professionalism? Am I losing my spot on the security detachment. Did I fill out hazmat paperwork wrong?... What could this mean.
"Uh... negative."
"Oh shit wrong SSG, never mind." Hangs up.
Get a text from my Platoon Sergeant who is acting 1SG at this time and he's basically like "Come in today, now." I get there and he's basically like "Yeah everything has gone to shit for this pre-deployment. I need you in here." Whatever, that's fine. He's solid so I know it's the truth.
"By the way, how was that trip to Beaumont?"
"bro."

Any advice for a new guy headed to JBLM?
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Do men get to wear makeup on duty? I’m dead serious and Google doesn’t yield anwsers
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I am looking for some guidance on completing my SF-1199A. I am transferring from Army National Guard to Regular Army and was asked to fill out a SF-1199A from my recruiter. I asked my recruiter for clarification and he said, read it. I know that most army forms contain instructions that explain what is needed for each section. This is not the case for this form.
For example,
Section 1, Box C. ** CLAIM OR PAYROLL ID NUMBER ** the instructions on the second page say look this information is found on my government check. One thing I found on google said SSN, so that's what I put.
Next section, ** PAYEE/JOINT PAYEE CERTIFICATION and JOINT ACCOUNT HOLDERS’ CERTIFICATION (optional). ** Does that mean my wife needs to sign since its a Joint Account I am assuming that they want both of us to sign.
Finally, ** SECTION 2 (TO BE COMPLETED BY PAYEE OR FINANCIAL INSTITUTION) **
It wants Govt Agency Name, since its for Active Duty Army would I put that, additionally for Govt Agency address what do I put?
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How does one go about filing a claim against the federal government in regards to automobile damage?
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How far from base can you travel on active duty? And can you just travel freely in the reserves or guard until drill ?
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Can you use your phone at AIT?
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Hello there, I am a 18 year old male who had a dream of serving. I tried to join the Airforce out of high school. I went to MEPS and tested perfectly in all aspects except one. The very end of the physical the doctor noticed I had flat feet. He asked if they hurt or bothered me and of course I said they do not. He said, “ok sounds good to me, I won’t DQ you”. I walk out thinking I passed the first phase to joining to be told I was in fact DQ’d. I later found out the report he wrote said I complained about severe foot pain due to flat feet. I gave up and tried again this year for the Army. I had to submit a waiver to join and it was denied all because of the lie the doctor wrote down. It has been my dream to serve for the longest time. I’m at the point now where I am stuck and have no guidance. My recruiter dropped me as soon as the waiver came back denied. Do I have any hope for other branches? Can I clean that off my record? I’ve looked into appealing the waiver and all I’ve got from it is that is almost impossible. Is this true or is there hope to appeal? Any information is appreciated and I thank you for reading and hopefully commenting. Thank you -Jordan
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This is going to sound weird but maybe I just need to hear is from an outside force. My fathe grandfather were Airborne grunts and i’ve always wanted to do the same, turns out i’m colorblind so infantry and airborne are off the table.
Is it okay “serving” and not being a combat mos? I know that is a large part of the Army and not to say anything about 99% of MOSs but it just seems so disheartening. Are you still proud of shit you did or is it just a 9-5 and you go home and you’re out in 4 years?
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Any of you guys have any experience with 4th Engineers up in Carson? I’m headed that way, I’d like to know what some people’s experiences are. Thanks!
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So if I sign a 6-year active duty contract, does my 6-years start after I finish AIT? Or does it start the very same day you being BCT?
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I’m enlisted and I ship out in July. My question is, what is fort sill AIT like?
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Hello reddit, I’m a civilian who is currently trying to make tape so to go to MEPS, take asvab, etc. I have done extensive research on this site as well as others, but would like direct opinions about what my options/routes. A little background info:
Age: 26
Wt: 230 lbs (need 197 lbs or 3 in. Off waist)
Criminal History: DUI-2014-21 years old.
Vision: maybe correctable to 20/20, maybe not will find out at MEPS.
AFQT: 79 (walked in off the street no studying) asvab should be in 90’s range after studying a bit.
Employer: I deal cards in a casino in CA. Make pretty good money, have no job satisfaction.
I am currently doing everything I can to make a great decision as to what my MOS will be. When I was younger (19-20) I scored really high on afqt and recruiter wanted to push intel on me. Ended up not enlisting because I thought (why enlist when I can finish school and commission duh), but life doesn’t always pan out how we expect. I have enough units to enter as a PFC, which is nice since I’m older. I always wanted to join the military, and now that I’m getting older I’m trying to make the leap before it’s too late. My main questions are:
What MOS would you recommend for someone in my position? I’ll need waivers for my DUI, and actually can’t do most of the cool MOS because I can’t get a TS clearance and possible vision requirements. Secret maybe, but also maybe not.
I’m very interested in an opt 40 contract, but I have worries I won’t be able to get in the shape I’ll need in BCT or OSUT to hack it, any opinions in regard to this?
My mind is telling me to go support or look at an MOS that translates to civ world, but my hearts wants to go infantry. I am 26 and worried I’ll be too old to be able to do the grunt life. Is this true or am I overthinking it? Also will having high ASVAB scores do anything for me in infantry? Does it make a difference?
Other MOS I think are pretty cool that I QUALIFY for are: 12D, 12M, 19D, 68W, 88K.....these are pretty much what I can qualify for out the gate. Can’t do anything cool such as: 31K, 35series, 37series, 38series. Those would be my top, but I can’t because of DUI.
Basically what are the best options for me based on my pros/cons?
Lastly at 26 possibly 27 would you recommend 3 or 4 year commitment?
P.S. was also planning on trying to go tacp with AF but for some reason the army appeals to me more. Can’t tell you why.
Thank you in advance for you time
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My question is about combat training. I’m naturally left handed and when shooting guns I am a left and shooteleft eye dominant. How will that affect me in combat training? Will the Army make me switch to my right hand dominant?
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People are saying in my guard unit if we fail this new pt test it's an honorable discharge. I'm almost positive that this isn't true guy can someone tell me why this isn't true?
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Been a while.
So my active duty 11B journey comes to an end in about two hours, and I'll be transitioning into the old NG as a reclass: 35T. Seemed like a good step after completing the MSSA program for cloud/server admin, plus I'm super interested in all the equipment.
I'd like to hear about what I can expect going into the lengthy AIT as an MOS-T. Heard in general it's way more relaxed than a brand new private's experience, but if there are any major pieces of information I'm gonna need, I'd appreciate the heads up.
I know I can expect to get my Sec+. Any other major certs? Currently hold MCA: Azure Admin & the paltry MTA: Networking Fundamentals.
Going in for the "Try 1" contract, but I have two years to schedule my AIT. Is there a time of year that's better than others?
Cheers all.
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Prior service guy, was out for a while and resigned to the national guard for six years. It's been two years and they have not sent me to AIT yet. Does anyone know if there is a way out of my contract if they don't send me by a certain date? If so please site regulations or where that info can be found.
Cheers
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Is it possible for a non-citizen/green card holder getting overseas on first assignment?
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Question about working as a contractor in Afghanistan or other war zones: ------------------
Are there any 3-6 month contracts in Afghanistan which one can apply to? Not sure if contracts like that exist, and wanted to ask.
My story/background:
Long story short, I'm a mechanical engineer with 4 years experience and speak 3 languages (English, Spanish and Polish).
I've been running a small online business the past 4 years, but just went out of business recently due to unforeseen events.
I have $15,000 in debt and was looking for a 3-6 month contracting job I could apply to, to help pay my debt.
I would be open to any type of contracting job, hopefully one paying at least $4k-$5k a month.
Any advice is highly appreciated, thank you in advance for your help
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Shipping off to boot in a month and I have a series of dumb questions:
I just did my OPAT and got enough to qualify for a Heavy MOS even though I’m going in as a 13j(moderate) is that going to correlate with how well I do physically in basic(LWOOD)?
Should I shave my head prior to going? I kinda want to see myself in a Mohawk before shipping out and I’d probably shave it off a couple days before. Is there a stigma to that?
Will aspirin be available? I’m afraid that I’ll get a headache and fuck something up at basic. If there isn’t I can just ride it out. I bring this up because I had a terrible one at MEPS but it got better right before I had to do the testing.
Swimming? I can’t swim that great but I have enough time to practice if I need to.
When is my first APFT? I can defiantly hit the requirements but at the same time idk what’s going to happen between now and then.
You don’t have to answer all of these, answering just one would be more than helpful
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This will sound GENUINELY gay, but I just wanna get it off my chest:
​
I was hyped for enlisting, but now I'm shook on the idea. How do I get over this weird sense of dread? I keep thinking of all the positive things that will come and change my life for the better, but I can't help but to feel nervous and somewhat scared.
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I have already gone through MEPS, as well as had an interview for my potential security clearance. If I decide that I do not want to join the army, then will my fingerprints show up for other jobs showing that I applied for a security clearance? For example, if an employer does their own background investigation and runs my fingerprints, then will the army's "findings" be available to them even though I never joined? Thanks for any help!
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As a new infantry 2LT, how difficult is it to attend different schools like Sapper and Airborne if you aren't in a unit where these tabs would be necessary? The recruiter I asked basically just told me "Yeah, sure, of course you can go to Sapper school!" but I'm wondering if attending these different schools as an officer actually is super easy, or if it's more difficult and based on some sort of application process or random chance.
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Hey guys
My Question has to do with the Army Space Badge im having trouble finding any forms or online location for the online class just trying to see if am qualified or how i can go if anyone has any information please DM
THANK YOUU
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Hey y’all, this isn’t related to joining but I dunno if it merits its own post. I need to obtain ASUs in the next two weeks; what’s the cheapest + fastest way to get a set in that time?
I am not near a post but I can make a day trip to one, if that helps.
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If you have a slot for a mobilization in a different MOS than your primary and don't go to re-class for it, will it be awarded after the mobilization is over?
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Currently deployed, being sent home for NCOES. Is there a regulation on how many days prior to my report date I should be sent back stateside?
I’ve heard rumors of a 30 day window, I’m not getting a flight till about 2 weeks prior. I’m fine with that if that’s how it has to be, but I’ll have to do reintegration and figure out my TDY shit within that time. I’m not finding anything on google about this.
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I graduated a few years ago with a bachelor's in chem and minor in math. My interests have been research and development, but I also tend to really like technical, hands-on work that involves troubleshooting and instrumentation. Nuclear and radiological fields are also of interest.
Can someone perhaps suggest some other roles that may be applicable? I know very little about the military, so if you know of roles outside of this branch that may also apply I would be interested in hearing about those as well.
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So I'm not fat, I'm a skinny build but I do have some flabs and a pretty soft stomach. Haven't gone to a gym seriously in over a year and a half. What's a good routine to follow to get back in top shape for BCT? Should I just stick solely with the PFT requirements? (Push-ups, sit-ups, and distance-cardio only) Or should I include some weight-lifting in the process as well?
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Regarding promotion to E-3 out of BCT with 2,100 hours in trade/vocational training. I'm in the process of graduating from my medical assisting program, and am thinking about enlisting. I will of met the hour requirements upon graduation, but has anyone received promotion this way? I have yet to ask a recruiter about this, I'm still waiting for him to get back to me. until then any info? Specifically what programs are applicable and how I would find this information. I go to a federal program run by the department of labor, so I assume I'm golden but I'm not sure. Google searches are getting me everywhere but to the information I'm looking for. Thanks!
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Interested in commissioning, does anyone know if a past visit to BH years ago is disqualifying?
Also, does anyone know if rosacea is a DQ?
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Gotcha. Thanks man! I'll follow up with my recruiter and get the details.
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I'm planning on trying to commission by the end of the year. I have some weight to drop still, but when I get down to weight I want to make sure I am ready to go.
What records should I be working on collecting now? For example, I went to the ER last year for a work related injury. I ended up having to do 3ish weeks of physical therapy but I'm fully healed now. Should I get all those records or will they not need them?
What about when I broke my hand when I was 16? I'm 30 now and have had no issues with it.
Do I need letters of recommendation? If so, how many?
Basically I'm just curious what I should be doing (other than PT) to prepare myself to meet with a recruiter when I'm ready.
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I'm an 88L. My Mos is has too many people in it. So they are taking volunteers and pushing them into other Mos'. If there are not enough people volunteering they may take people anyways. That's what all my NCOs in my unit are saying.
So, I don't like gambling with my job. I like being an 88L. But, its either I choose an Mos I like or there is a small chance I'm forced to change. I've not been at my unit for over a year.
So, my question is: I'm thinking about 25D as an Mos. There's an almost 30000 bonus if you have more than 3 years on your contact going into it. I qualify. I'd get a promotion if I pass the AIT. Is 25D good? Should I just stay as an 88L even with the small risk off being reclassed forcibly? I heard the schooling for 25D is hard. But so was 88L and I passed that.
Any general advice or info would be nice.
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My dad recently went to Ft. Campbell and was talked up about 11B getting insane bonuses, so now he wants me to enlist as 11B. Is there any truth to this? He thinks I'm gonna get $20-30,000 cash upon signing, but I kind of doubt it being that ludacris.
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So I'm in Italy and am on a 2 year tour, I was interested in extending for year and 7 months to my ETS. I had a change of heart, but am wondering if I am stuck here now. I haven't signed the 4187 or FSTE. Do they need my signature to extend me?
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Hello All,
I'm seeking to figure out, can I enlist in the Army as a Counterintelligence Agent? I'm honestly pretty confused by what goarmy.com and my local recruiter say about it.
For context, I'm going to graduate with a BA soon, and I'm pretty confident about scoring high on the ASVAB (based on my practice with the recruiter) and I think I'll be a go for the clearance.
Any advice on this, or about being a 35L in general, would be appreciated.
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I want to check what unit I’m going to using UIC, is that public info or do I need a DODComputenetwork?
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I'm going to see my recruiter tomorrow and i want to be a 19 kilo m1 crewmen but i have had multiple surgery when I was born but I have never broken anything and am phisicaly fine and able to do daily task and,have no underlying problems other then i have no bellybutton and have a large scar i had what is called,an omphalacele and everything is fine now so im hopeing I'm good to go my biggest concern is the medical everything else i can studay and work out but its medical somthing i cant controls that worries me . please if any one knows what my chances are please help and cheer me up im stressed .... This has been my dream for years and i have always been told i cant do this or that and,i just want to serve my country and work with an amazing team in these big metal beasts.. Olease if anyone has any tips let me know thanks...
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How do I ruck faster? Did my first 12 mile in 2:40 with 50 sumn lbs and I've been doing 3 miles lately with 75+ holding a 15ish minute pace(walk no run) If I just go out there with 35 or 45 (trying to prepare for ranger, maybe someday) what can I do to just ya know walk faster? I have a civilian Osprey bag with about 28lbs or so dry and I can run a ways with that on but that's not heavy enough for standard I just like using that bag in my freetime. But as far as just walking faster I dont feel like I can, what's a good tip? I already ruck and run I know the pole trick but how do I walk faster between running?
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I see a lot of talk about sending more troops to various places in the news. Is this having any real impact on deployments right now?
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Question about joining.
So I started the whole process with National Guard and when the packet was done I told my recruiter I wanted to switch to Army Active Duty. I'm guessing he would switche my packet over and he told me somebody else he knew would be taking care of the process. He was genuinely cool about it and I talked with him the other day about it. The recruiter he's sending me to has yet to even contact me and it's been a month. I still have 3 new papers to sign and havent been to MEPS. I'm wondering if I should just tell him I want to talk to another recruiter or I should keep waiting? Thanks in advance.
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Are you allowed to take OTC medication out in the field and on deployment? Obviously taking it in boot camp wouldn't be allowed. I have a skin condition that requires me to take hydrocortisone cream once daily. Without it I can get bad flareups.
I can tolerate the symptoms, but I get red rashes on my face that itch like crazy. Would I get pulled out of bootcamp, or would they allow me to suck it up and graduate?
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If I have an rfo can I still try and drop my refrad?
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Anyone knows anything about AC/RC? career counselor said it was a good gig, tried researching but all it says is that I'll be doing the planning for Reserve components as an active duty soldier. Anyone has any feedback? anything helps
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Trying to get an airborne slot while in AIT. Like a retard, I believed everyone that said "don't worry, you can get it in ait, they always need intel." Looking at HRC it appears I can send a packet to my branch G1 with a 4187 and airborne physical through ATRRS. Where is ATRRS? I can't find it anywhere. Should I ask the airborne POC directly?
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I’m in AIT currently for 91f (small arms repaiartillery repair) I’m a reservist, and know I’ll be stationed at Fort Knox 11th aviation. I was wondering what kind of weapons I’ll mostly get to work with, and what kind of gear will I actually be issued? I also have a 275 pt score, what kind of extra schools could this MOS or my pt score get me as a reservist? I also know that in some units 91f is able to go to the front lines in deployments. How likely would it be for me to get that opportunity, given I’m in an aviation unit?
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So about 5 years ago I started the process of enlisting in the Army. I would have been able to enlist as an E3, and was trying for 12r. My father's health ended up going down hill extremely fast so I put that idea on the back burner. It was a good thing I did because he passed away a few months later. My life got a little crazy after that and I never had a chance to entertain the idea of enlisting again.
So here we are now. I'm now 29, happily married for 3 years with 3 kids under 3 years old. We own a house with 12ac and a small, somewhat successful, sheep ranch. I'm an ASE Master Technician and own my own automotive repair business which is starting to pick up steam and actually be profitable.
Yet despite all of that, I really regret never enlisting, and am starting to get the urge to do so again before I'm too old.
My wife and I discussed the idea of going into the National Guard last night, and she said she would be ok with that, as long as we didn't have to move around. The time away for BCT and AIT would be difficult, but after that we agreed it wouldn't be too bad, until a deployment anyhow. My state is in need of several decent MOS that have $20k bonuses. Plus, I have about 13K in student loans that would be nice to have paid with the SLRP.
Honestly though, I kind of want to go active duty. See the world some. Experience all the bullshit and fuck-fuck games. I may also eligible to go 25S, $40k bonus.
Thoughts?
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What MOS translates into the most money in the civilian world?
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My post got removed for some type of violation. Hope this is the right spot to post. Hello everybody, i've got an issue with my asvab line scores. I took the Asvab twice, many years ago. The second time i took it i received higher scores, that is also the time i enlisted. For some reason my ERB is showing the scores from the first time i took the test. Anybody have any idea on who i would contact to get this issue fixed? I asked around in my company, but no one was able to figure it out. Thanks.
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Hi guys, I had a question for my friend who doesn't have a reddit account:
She's a college graduate studying to go to law school and is interested in going to JAG route through the Army or Air Force. However she isn't sure if she would work her entire law career in the military and she was wondering how the transition from military to corporate law firms are because from what she's read so far, corporate firms prefer to hire fresh graduates. She wants to talk to an OSO about all this as well but is worried she'll get baised answers and wants to see if anyone has similar experiences or advice they'd like to share.
TLDR: Do JAGs do well transitioning from the military to corporate/outside jobs?
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So this morning, my recruiter looked at the available MOS's and the list is so sad. lol No 36b or 25b. I understand that all the recent grads from May likely took all the jobs, but does anyone which months are best for availability?
Thanks!
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Hello all, I am an enlisted future soldier and I ship off to basic next week! I am very nervous and feel like I’m not physically ready even though I have been training for the last month. I am shipping off to FLW for OSUT, so I was wondering if anyone has any advice? I know it’s gonna be hot as hell, that’s for sure. Thank you.
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Is there a rule about running shirtless on post? I assume it's in the post/div standards document, but I just pcs'd and don't have internet yet. I also assume it's pretty standard across the country. Anyone looked it up before?
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What compelled you to sign up to defend Israel and Exxon abroad?
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So my question is this, I enlisted with the Gaurd back in February. Now, I haven't been in long, but it seems like swearing is the defacto way to speak. So, needless to say, fuck yeah. Me and my drill buddies start swearing, drill Sargeants are swearing along with us. All is good. However. I recently came to learn, some Sargeants don't take kindly to swearing. I had to take a few laps and do some push ups. What are some ways of knowing who is and isn't cool with the occasional F-bomb?
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I'm currently in DEP waiting to ship to basic in August, I was just wondering if I'm eligible for military discounts or not? I was planning on switching my phone company and the one I'm switching to offers a discount.
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“I can't believe this is my eighth studio album and I know I keep telling you that it is my most personal record yet, but its true and I'm really proud of that”

This quote from The Legendary Miss Britney Spears would most likely haunt her for the rest of the career, especially because it came in the eve of the release of her infamous 2013 album Britney Jean, whose title anticipated a rare introspective look into a star with over a decade on the spotlight (most of the times for the wrong reasons)… also, it came right after her previous album, 2011’s Femme Fatale, became her first full-length effort without any songwriting input from the Princess of Pop, although a Japanese bonus track features a co-writing credit from her.
Of course Britney Jean deserves most of the criticism it receives and yet, it also deserves way more than just being outright ignored even by most of Britney’s diehard fans: Britney Jean is more than just Work Bitch and 13 b-sides, is more than Brit’s most dated-on-arrival release… Britney Jean is a case study of what was pop in its time, what changed and why it stopped being as popular as it once was….

POP BEFORE BRITNEY JEAN

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Early 00s pop music was being left aside by the general public during the heydays of gangsta rap, Timbaland/Pharrell-infused R&B and rock/nu-metal… at least until around the period between 2007 and 2009, the start of the Golden Era for popheads: The anthemic choruses, the prominent synths, the light and care-free nature of the lyrics, everything was there to pump you up and make you dance… however everything would change in 2013, when streaming was finally introduced to the Billboard formula. After the satirical K-pop track Gangnam Style by Psy took the world by storm, it was noticed how in the United States the song was blocked from the top spot by the inconsequential One More Night by Maroon 5, even if Style had the lead in sales for most of the 12 weeks it stayed at the Top 10 (as you might have guessed, radio had something to do with that), pushing Billboard to update their methodology and add streaming to the mix.
The first song that benefited from the change in the tracking methodology would prophetize what would come next for the charts in general: Harlem Shake, a nearly-instrumental meme song debuted at the top spot and stayed there for 6 weeks total. Another novelty song, Ylvis’ The Fox (What Does The Fox Say?) would visit the Top 10 later in the year based on virality alone.
Although rap, indie music and more traditional pop music found their way during this year, the presence of outliers like Lorde’s Royals, genre-defying tracks like Avicii’s Wake Me Up! (a country/folk tinted EDM anthem) and Florida Georgia Lane’s Cruise (considered the grandfather of the bro-country genre, made popular on pop radio thanks to a tackled-on rap feature by Nelly), and the aforementioned viral hits not only showed that general audiences were craving something new, but their success would pave the way for a big change in pop music.

BRITNEY BEFORE BRITNEY JEAN

"Sometimes you don't need to use words to go through what you need to go through, sometimes it's an emotion you need to feel when you dance, that you need to touch. And the only thing that can touch it is when you move a certain way."
Britney Spears on the For The Record documentary, one of the rare glimpses she gave us on her life before Britney Jean

Britney, of course, was partially a pioneer and a tail-rider of the maximalistic electro sound of the era, as proven by the influence and cult following of what most people consider her magnum opus, or at least her more direct and honest album, 2007’s Blackout, which is ironic considering that Britney only has two writing credits in the whole project and how even The Unstoppable Danja called it ‘impersonal’.
After Blackout, Britney would continue to ride the same sonic palette with her follow-up, 2008’s Circus and then move onto Femme Fatale, which, in spite of its “forward-thinking” nature (as described by the label-appointed producer and current persona non grata Dr. Luke) and slick production, it was heavily criticized for its anonymity and lack of input of the singer in the record, which led to Britney to defend herself stating, rightfully, that she had nothing to prove.

THE MAKING OF A PERSONAL ALBUM

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The mastermind behind Britney Jean was none other than hitmaker will.i.am, whose involvement on the record came as a surprise to no one given how they have collaborated twice at that point and get along really well (you can read more about it in this post I made a couple of months ago), however, the Black Eyed Peas frontman doesn’t deserves all of the credit for the record as Britney herself decided that she would be more involved and had a pivotal role into the making of this record.
Although the early stages of the album pointed towards a more hip-hop release, will.i.am’s involvement and her chemistry with Britney put her forward into the recording and making of the album.
Realizing that she wanted a more straightforward release that wasn’t as bouncy and genre-hopping as her predecessors, Britney searched with will.i.am a series of collaborators that could help her bring her ideas to life, as she didn’t wanted to sing impersonal songs that her team just happened to receive; this, unfortunately, ruled out the involvement of the Saint Patron of pop production Max Martin, although it relegated Dr. Luke to a sole bonus track so that’s a win in my book. Britney Jean is her only release in which she’s credited as a co-writer in each track, including bonus tracks… her closest before that was In The Zone in which 9 of the 14 (including bonus) tracks sported a Britney co-write.

THE PERKS OF BEING A PERSONAL ALBUM

I have been through a lot in the past few years and it has really inspired me to dig deeper and write songs that I think everyone can relate to […] I want to show you the different sides of Britney Spears.
I am a performer.
I am a Mom.
I am funny.
I am your friend!
I am Britney Jean.
Britney Jean Spears

Britney has never been the kind of performer that would pour her soul into her lyrics, and even have occasionally distanced her private life from her lyrics (she famously rejected the Timberlake-bashing Sweet Dreams My LA Ex, later given to ex-S Club 7 member Rachel Stevens as her debut single), although in the few glimpses we have gotten from her real persona (the stunning Everytime and the dubious My Baby for example) have always leaved her fans with the idea of her getting more involved with the subject matter of the tracks… I mean, the exploration of fame in tracks like Circus and Piece of Me are great, but what about explorations of who is Britney?
Britney Jean is her first album released in her 30s, and after finally deciding to get this involved in the songwriting department 15 years into her singing career was no fluke: chalk it up to coincidence, to the fact that it was long due given her background (Britney had lived A LOT of unwanted stuff during her career, married twice, had two kids, survived the most public mental breakdown unimaginable and more while being one of the most successful female performers currently working… also, that year she had ended her engagement with her manager Jason Trawick) or to misogyny (if you wanna go there) but female singers seems to go personal and/or mature in their 30s, with some popular examples including Madonna’s Like A Prayer (described by her as being "about my mother, my father, and bonds with my family"), Mariah Carey’s post-divorce genre-bender Butterfly (if her birth year is believed to be 1969), Beyoncé’s whole post-Matthew Knowles era (4 was released three months before she turned 30), Nicki Minaj’s back-to-my-roots release The Pinkprint and Katy Perry’s purposeful woke pop release Witness (Katy, I love you but 💀) among others.
Another thing to consider is that doing “personal” songs have always being interpreted as tracks with stripped-away or piano-driven arrangement, something that Britney, who had sung about being on the club or having sex (or even both on the same track) so many times it kinda become her trademark, is not something she’s might get allowed to do, especially when the current-at-the-time pop scene and Britney’s then-current sound were a far cry from the kind of sound these “confessional” tell-all songs normally have.

#BritneyPleaseSavePopMusic

(this was a real hashtag that was worldwide trending topic on Twitter in September 2013)
With the anticipation of what a Britney-fied personal record would sound like, anticipation was in an all-time high among fans… so it was natural that her most introspective record would be anchored with an EDM song called Work Bitch. In Britney’s defense, will.i.am pointed out almost immediately how the braggadocio track didn’t represented the album but it was rather about Britney Spears herself.
Promoted with what was heavily rumored to be a 6.5-million-dollars budgeted video which was supposedly heavily sanitized from its originally sexed-up original version (more on that later), the video itself represented most of the promotion the whole album received, as the album’s second and final single (Perfume) was left to rot in negligence after the album’s release.
Outside of a couple of TV appearances (not performances, just interviews), including one to promote her then-upcoming “2-year” Las Vegas residency Britney Spears: Piece of Me, and an E! documentary about the making-of the album and said residency, no actual promotion took place for Britney Jean, which led to the inevitable.

BRITNEY UNLEASHES HER MOST “PERSONAL” ALBUM

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Britney Jean was unleashed to the world on December 3rd of 2013, one day after the Princess’ birthday, and was a big commercial disappointment, debuting at number 4 on Billboard with sales of 107,000 copies (a little bit more than a third of the sales of Femme Fatale), even lower than those of her debut album …Baby One More Time; 3 years after its release, BJ had sold less in the United States than FF in its opening week, although it was eventually certified Gold by the RIAA… this February. Internationally, the release didn’t fare any better and debuted at record-low positions for her releases in most international markets, including missing the Top 30 in the UK.
As most of you already know, reviews we’re nasty all around, the worst of Britney’s career. Because of the somewhat mean content of some of those reviews, I would instead resume what are the biggest perks critics had with the release:

• The album’s production (carried mostly by will.i.am protégé Anthony Preston, who hasn’t done anything ever since) was considered monotone, repetitive, dated, backward-thinking, overproduced and by-the-numbers. The album, full, on EDM beats and synthesizers, doesn’t really have that much of a breathing spot as there’s not that much of musical variety.
• Lyrically, the album was considered a disappointment considered its nature as a “personal album”, with the lyricism being considered somewhat superficial given the self-titled naming and Britney’s hype surrounding the content itself.
• Vocally, Britney Jean was ripped apart by critics and even some listeners. When the opening track’s autotune-less “warm up” vocal sessions leaked in 2014, critics complained about Britney’s (lack of) vocal talent and added fuel to the debate about wherever she’s actually talented at all, accusations that the song producer William Orbit dismissed.

SING A SONG OF SIXPENCE, MISS BRITNEY SPEARS

After one of the songs leaked ahead of the album’s release, there were accusations that backing vocalist Myah Marie (who had appeared on Brit’s previous two albums) was the lead singer not only on said leaked track but also in a large portion of the album (this is what she sounds like), accusations that Marie herself denied as well as Britney’s reps.
Her representatives claimed that Marie wasn’t involved in neither Perfume nor Passenger, the tracks that were the source of most of the controversy, and ultimately she wasn’t credited in none of those songs, although she’s credited as a (not background) vocalist in several of the other tracks of the album (mostly the Preston-produced songs as Work Bitch, Tik Tik Boom, Til It's Gone, Chillin' With You and Now That I Found You), including Alien (in which she’s not credited), who had a vocal steam leak in 2014 which showcases how uncanny is Myah’s impression of Britney is. A credited background singer is Sia in her co-composed single Perfume, which was the source of a weird misstep when Britney was caught lip-syncing to a version of the song with Sia’s vocals forefront in the mix.
A lot has been said about how Britney’s signature singing ‘baby’ voice is not her real one, how do they compare and how much damage has done to Brit’s current vocal chops, and even though she can still sing wherever she wants to, it’s quite obvious that she’s not that comfortable with it and, as such, she prefers to enhance her voice with the use of technology and some studio trickery… also, she might have gotten used to it considering how effortless and vivid were her earlier performances… here’s I’m A Slave 4 U at the 2001 VMAs just because how iconic it is.

BRITNEY JEAN… BY BRITNEY JEAN SPEARS

"People can take everything away from you, but they can never take away your truth.
The question is: Can you handle mine?"
Britney Spears in a song that’s not from this album and not originally from her

Described by critics as “a concept album about the loneliness of pop life”, Britney Jean actually open with quite a promise with Alien, a mid-tempo, melancholic, airy, ethereal dance pop opener that works as a more teenage-sounding version of Ray of Light, which is not surprising considering the involvement of said album’s mastermind (the aforementioned William Orbit) and that sonically picks-up where FF closer Criminal left off, but lyrically is quite different, as it portrays Britney having an intimate and personal realization that she, after years of tumultuous and erratic events, has lost grip of who she was and how she felt like an extraterrestrial in her own world; however she realizes that she’s not longer alone as she looks at the glow in the stars as a light to guide her home away from her insecurities of the past, and to feel safe and finally finding comfort in her true skin, as the chorus repeats the catchphrase ‘not alone’ “until it is pitchshifted up like a departing space ship”
Originally intended to include Gaga in the song (and also supposed to be released as a single, which unfortunately didn’t happened), Alien was considered the conceptual and musical highlight of the project by critics, and is easily the most personal, vulnerable and my personal highlight of the project… which made everything that came afterward a hard pill to swallow. Before that, I can’t help to mention THE GLITCH (2:14 in the song), which was apparently, as everything wrong with music of the period, will.i.am’s fault.
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Work Bitch (alternatively known in censored form as Work Work, or in the explicit version as Bitch Bitch) is a hard hitting EDM smasher and heavy mood-whiplash, which was definitely not co-written by Sebastian Ingrosso, in which Britney gently asks us (over a basic club beat which grows more overloaded as the song moves forward) is we want a hot body, an European luxury car (either a Bugatti, a Maserati or a Lambo ^{skirrt skirrt skirrt}) or to sip martinis while partying in a big mansion in France, only to disappoint us by calling us bitches and telling us to better work as if we were supermodels and she was RuPaul.
WB is, if you wanna practice some mental gymnastics, more ‘personal’ than its given credit for, as Britney details how much benefits she gets from hustling all these years, and inviting us to dance with that smashing wall-of-sound-laden beat that drowns most of the track. Way more forward-thinking and exciting that everything that comes after it, WB has become somewhat of a new classic for the Princess of Pop, and is pretty much deserved of said designation.
Perfume, co-written by Sia, is another album highlight (actually Britney’s favorite from the album) and one of the finest ballads of Brit’s late-catalogue. Written about her ex-fiancé Jason Trawick, the song deals with Britney’s insecurity about a current relationship, with Britney singing with some of her strongest vocals in years about how she believes that her partner is cheating on her and how she puts on her perfume in order to mark her territory. Released with a tie-in with her perfume Fantasy, the song kinda flopped worldwide and halted all of the promotion of the album, however it still remains (alongside the rawer Dreaming Mix, included as a bonus track) as one of the most interesting songs in 2010s Britney catalogue.
The music video, directed by known troll and middling talented videomaker Joseph Khan, has an unreleased director’s cut in which the straightforward concept of a cheating partner is changed to that of Britney playing the Angelina Jolie role in a gone-wrong version of Mr. and Mrs. Smith sans the boyfriend who is also an assassin.
It Should Be Easy finds Britney’s voice drown in both the auto-tune setting used by Kanye for the Runaway coda and the vocals of guest-star will.i.am in the chorus, all while produceco-writer David Guetta rehashes Swedish House Mafia (which originally broke up the same year in which BJ was released). The song, about Britney imagining a bright-normal-future with a man who had stolen her heart, stating that love “shouldn't be complicated”. Although I like this song, and her team obviously likes it to as it commissioned remixes to be serviced to clubs, it signals when things start to go somewhat downhill.
Tik Tik Boom, the T.I.-assisted fifth track, was always dubbed as a potential third single (remixes were commissioned but nothing official ever came up), and it’s not hard to see why: as one of her rare collaborations with a rapper, the static-y, dance-floor ready production presents Britney teasing a male partner with a night of… well… tik tik boom… that means sex, doing so while serving some circa-2001 sexy vocals as T.I. raps about treating her like an animal up to the point that PETA (which hates Britney) should be called in response. It’s fast, it’s straightforward and yet, it’s kinda forgettable and also very disappointing coming from or Princess Urbanney.
Guetta comes back with Body Ache, another outdated EDM bop in which Brit (accompanied by vocoder and several dozens of vocal distortion treatments) sings about the kind of ‘I wanna dance so hard it gonna turn you on’ anthem which Miss Spears can do on her sleep, with a backtrack that sounds straight out of the EDM will.i.am was doing with the Peas during the Beginning/E.N.D. era. Also it ends in a somewhat anticlimactic way.
Personal Britney makes a return with this track that wouldn’t be too out of place in FF: The Guetta co-written Til It’s Gone, in which Brit realizes that, after losing the love of her life (Trawick), her life would never be the same, or how “you never know what you got 'til it's gone”. Coming some two years to late sonically, in terms of lyrics the track it’s another story, as some interesting imagery pops here and there and it’s nice to leave the dance floor behind, especially when talking about a woman who (at least in the previous albums) rarely shut up about them.
Katy Perry arrives on the record but not as a feature, but as a writer, in the Diplo-produced, Sia-co-written and Prism outtake Passenger, in which some interesting EDM beats moves out of the way after the opening (they come back, don’t worry) to reveal a refreshing and very welcome electropop rock song with some great Britney vocals about letting someone to guide her after she’s willing to let herself be his ‘passenger’. Great lyrics, daring production, good vocal performance… it’s not hard to see why critics loved this track so much, and it’s a shame it gets buried among so much underwhelming stuff.
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Chillin’ with You, the album’s most infamous moment, finds Britney dueting with her sister, ex-Nickelodeon star and attempted country singer Zoey Meredith Brooks, about hanging out together and drinking wine (Brit likes red, Chase Matthews' ex likes white wine) while, as the southern white suburban moms they are, they feel they have nothing else to worry about. Although the lyrics are… well… cute, and the subject matter is decidedly novel by Britney’s standards, the mixture of country and EDM doesn’t mash as well as the producers might had expected… also, the fact that their vocals were so obviously recorded in different sessions (as showed by the kind of chemistry you only see in cheesy 70s movies starring John Travolta and Lily Tomlin) makes the whole ordeal so surreal.
The album closer in the standard edition is Don’t Cry, a FUCK YOU MR. TRAWICK song in which Britney reassures his man that it’s not worthy to cry as their relationship was always directed to end no matter what they do, and how she’s gonna go to not see him all tear eyed. The bouncy but subdued dubstep back track by pop goblin and producer will.i.am enhances what is arguably Britney’s best vocals in the whole album and some really nice lyrics which still doesn’t work as an album closer.
Sia comes back in the first bonus track of the deluxe edition, Brightest Morning Star, and she brings with her current pop Pariah (that would be Dr. Luke, but he’s only in this track) to the mix, on a track about God (or maybe about her kids, according to Dr. Puke), or at least one that implies to be one; in Sia’s words: ‘Britney was extremely sweet. She came in with the title ‘Brightest Morning Star’ and told me that’s how Jesus found his way. She wanted to write a kind of gospel song that wasn’t ramming it down your throat’. Despite the good intentions, BGS is no Jesus Walks and it gets short in the musical department, with a surprisingly weak instrumental which doesn’t do any good service to the song.
Britney continues her religious quest with Hold on Tight, a mid-tempo ballad that in which Miss Spears details how God comes into her dreams (or it might be an Incubus?) showing her the path to righteousness, even when the road is not as friendly with her, and… to be honest, this is my least favorite song on the album, it’s just so forgettable even if it’s quite refreshing in the context of BJ.
To end the evening, Britney continues her unintentional audition to become a gospel singer with Now That I Found You, a shameless EDM track (with early-10s euphoric drop and everything) about how incomplete she was until she found Him (to be honest, this could also be another love song, but after two bonus tracks about God it’s easy to see where she was pointing towards with the vague lyrics) and how everything is better now. Unlike the forgettable predecessors, NTIFY is fun (dated? Sure… but also fun), it’s bright, it’s colorful, it’s happy, and one of my favorite songs on the record… even if co-writer Guetta basically ripped off his own hit Without You from 3 years before.

u/radiofan15’s UNWANTED OPINION ABOUT BRITNEY JEAN

Britney Jean is not an autobiography, it’s not a tell-all gossip-venting machine, it’s a clean, overproduced product of misdirection and lack of focus… and yet it’s actually fascinating in several ways: it’s arguably the greatest resume you would find of how pop music sounded in between 2008 and 2013, it’s a great bridge between the impersonal heavily-polished Femme Fatale and the serviceable and engaging Glory, which saw Britney leading the way on how everything would sound from the start.
It’s quite ironic how the album’s naming (taking a cue from Janet Jackson’s Damita Jo, her actual middle name) plays against it, as self-titled releases (unless they are debut albums) are associated with being in control of your output or reinventions (pop examples includes Paramore as their first release as a trio, Beyoncé to fit the minimalistic sounds and Janet Jackson’s janet. to showcase independence from the Jackson family) and unless you’re Led Zeppelin, Peter Gabriel or Weezer, the idea of having a second eponymous release usually means that audiences should expect to experience the performer in a never-seen before way. 2001’s Britney was the album that give a meaning to the phrase “I’m not that innocent” spurred in her previous effort, with lyrics talking about womanhood and sexuality being complemented with R&B vibes and rock/hip-hop elements. Britney Jean, when compared to Femme Fatale, is way behind the difference between Britney and Oops!... I Did It Again, which in retrospective is even worse as the relative freshness and reinvention of Glory leaves the ‘openness’ and ‘variety’ of BJ in shambles.
One of the album’s biggest mistakes is in its sequencing: the first three tracks are the obvious highlights, the next three are basically DOA EDM songs, the next four are the most “adventurous” musically speaking and the bonus tracks are all about God. Taking out some of the ‘pure club’ anthems could theoretically create an album more deserving of its ‘personal’ label, going full Spinal Tap and amp up the production values to do something crazier might have given us something that was at least digestible in a single listening.
The album, as it is, is not perfect, but it’s far from the dumpster fire more people called it, including some of the most interesting Britney songwriting in years (or even her career) and some tracks that are already started to show signs of cult classic. The only positive thing most people seems to agree with is how short it is: with the alternative mix of Perfume included, BJ is ‘only’ 50 minutes long (the standard edition is just 36 minutes long), which is something most performers (even today) seems to struggle with.
Also, she didn’t came to play games with the art cover and aesthetics this era, the album cover and the booklet is her most gorgeous to date, with the former having her most flattering front picture of any of her albums and the neon typography creating a very pleasing contrast with her elegant black-and-white imagery (in the deluxe edition) or the elegantly, milky pastel coloring of the standard edition.

THERE CAN BE 100 LISTENERS IN THE ROOM AND 99 LEAVE BUT ONE... - BRITNEY JEAN THE DAY IT DEBUTED

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Britney and her team gave up quite easily on Britney Jean and, honestly, they shouldn’t be blamed: the offer to have a Vegas Residency with a salary of $15 million dollars per year seems like the kind of offer a pop star and mother of two with enough money already for several timelines would accept, with the album itself being more of an afterthought.
Britney was originally slated to remain on the Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino for two years but ultimately extended her run for another two years, before finally touring overseas (without an album attached to the performances) during 2017 and 2018.
Because of the lack of promotion, Britney Jean underperformed when compared to Miss Spears’ previous releases, with estimated worldwide sales (as of April 2018) being close to 1.3 million copies, less than a third of Femme Fatale’s sales.
Truth be told, BJ flopped hard… HOWEVER, not everything would have turned out that terrible (not even in a million years it would have sold as much a FF but at least the downfall could have been smaller) with some actual promotion and interest from Brit herself.

SOME REACHING… I MEAN… THE SIGNIFICANCE OF BRITNEY JEAN

BJ is, in my opinion, a compilation of the era, the resume of “in the previous episode of” that you get on serialized TV shows, a farewell to the bombastic era of synth-heavy EDM club anthems with gratuitous drops and interchangeable lyrics. During the genre’s opus, some performers tried to bend this sound (and their equivalents) to their benefit, either mixing it with their style or playing with the boundaries of the sound: it could be a Taylor Swift doing a We Are Never Getting Back Together to get a broad crossover hit, a Lady Gaga mixing multiple genres to create a sonically complex pastiche called Born This Way, or even straight-up jumping almost seamlessly from rap/R&B to club bangers like Nicki Minaj did in Roman Reloaded. Britney in Britney Jean did almost the opposite of that.
Britney Jean is, in some ways, a time capsule of the era in its rawest and purest form (some might differ and replace those buzzwords with generic and bland), with the average user being able to trace mostly any track to a style, influence, sub-genre or even performer. Listening to BJ is like watching a 70s movie in VHS in an old, square TV, basically an unintentional period piece that reflects the volatile, bombastic and extravagant style of those golden years of 2008-2013, which, within the mindset of Britney Jean sounds kinda tired and bland, surprising no one when that branch of pop went back into obscurity and irrelevance almost as fast as grunge music did when Kurt Cobain died.
Britney Jean came up in a time of transition of popular music, with streaming showing the kind of power it had on the charts and more subdued, minimalistic music taking the world by storm. Popular music, as you might already noticed, evolved into a slower, more melodic, calculated, numb, almost anticlimatic entity which was more fitting with our current social and political climate. To paraphrase Todd in the Shadows: 2013 had a hit literally called Happy and 2018 had both a hit called SAD! and another called Happier with a video about a dog that dies.
In terms of Britneyology (both the study of Britney Spears and the religion dedicated to her persona), BJ is also a glimpse into Britney the full-fledged artist. Britney has never been the kind of performer that gets heavily involved into her music, with Britney’s role being generally limited to the choice of songs, sequencing, development of sounds and themes with her assigned team of writers and producers, and performing of course; sometimes Britney gets involved into the heavier portions of her music (the classic Everytime is a great example of it) but most of the time she remains quite anonymous, with her voice and choice being overwritten by the men on charge, something that became quite apparent during and after the Dark Ages (2004-2008) with the cancelling of the legendary Original Doll, her lack of songwriting credits in both Blackout and Circus, and her much-criticized anonymity in Femme Fatale.
BJ was Britney deciding who does want to work with, what does she wants to sing and even how to equilibrate her musical and visual persona. Britney has always being in control of how is she portrayed on official media, most famously rejecting an animated concept for the video of …Baby One More Time in favor of a Lolita-inspired take on catholic school girls, and then the slow process from jailbait to grownup woman. During the post-production of the Work Bitch video, she clashed with director Ben Mor over the kind of content the video should show, as she was a mother in her 30s now instead of an unreachable male gaze fantasy.
With BJ, the Legendary Miss Britney Spears showed us how much she has changed since that controversial 2003/2004 period (the last time she was that involved with an album) in which she received the Kiss of Death from Madonna, suffered her infamous accident and, of course, married twice in a calendar year. This new Britney was a much-different person, and her voice deserved to be heard, and even if the results weren’t the greatest, it was a step into the right director for Britney to get what she always wanted: being a full-fledged artist capable of taking her own decisions and learning from her mistakes.

POP AFTER BRITNEY JEAN

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Coincidentally in 2014 most of the ambassadors of the dominant pop sound of the early 10s were either taking a musical break, flopping or changing lanes, so that year paved the way for the transition of what do we define as popular music, with the winners of the evolution race being trap (Fetty Wap’s Trap Queen), meme music from awful people (Bobby Shmurda’s Hot Nathans) or untalented losers (T-Wayne’s Nasty Freestyle, Silentó’s Watch Me), trop pop (OMI’s Cheerleader, Justin Bieber’s entire Purpose era) or whatever outlier track dared to pass through those filters.
What happened afterwards is a horror story most of popheads tells in fire camps a la Are You Afraid of the Dark?

BRITNEY AFTER BRITNEY JEAN

Glory , the follow-up Britney Jean, received very positives reviews and was considered a strong return-to-form for Britney, and even if it wasn’t as successful as her label might have wanted, the truth is that, at the end of the day, whatever Britney decides to do next (and considering the direction she seems to be taking) it can be as underwhelming as Britney Jean.
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