Tuesday, June 12, 2012

The Few. The Proud. The Marines.

Some days are stranger than others.

I'm dog sitting, and I came home today to find the very heavy, hard to open front door wide open. I mentioned it to a co-worker, and she had a Police officer respond to the house. He did a complete search  and found no forced entry and no indication of foul play. He checked every nook and cranny to confirm that there were no axe murderers/serial killers hiding in the closets or underneath the beds.

But that's not what today's blog is about.

Today, I was recruited to be in the Marines.

It started with a Marine Sergeant stopping by the Police department with a young recruit; he needed a report released for Marine review.

Usually, it takes three days for us at the department to process a records request, because hello, there's a lot more involved in releasing a report than one would think.

So, the Sergeant says to me and my co-worker "Please, I will do anything, anything you want me to do to be able to get this report today".

(This immediately causes me to think of an incident an Officer had recently where a young lass offered to do "anything" to get out of a troublesome situation. ...)

As he goes on and on (seriously) about how he will do anything to get the blasted report, I offer to take up the challenge and work on releasing the report as soon as possible.

After the Sergeant left, my scheming co-workers said that what he should do to compensate me for my efforts is to take me out to dinner.


Now don't get me wrong, he was a nice looking fellow, but....he had wrinkles. Not that I don't, but you know. Wrinkles indicate age. Like, older age. Not necessarily ancient, but no spring chicken either.

So, the day progresses, and one of my other co-workers walks by and asks "Did I hear something about Sarah going on a date?"

The women I work with fill her in on my potential Marine date.

Side note: At this point, I am not a willing participant.

As luck would have it, my co-worker then decides to try to set me up with her son.

She shows me various, terrible pictures of him, one at an odd angle where his face isn't even distinguishable. Another of his squished face sleeping, and yet another of a fish eye photo of him flipping his mother off. She tells me he's lost at least 60 pounds in the last year. True love!

She then sends him a text, telling him to send her an attractive photo of himself. *cringe*

The Marine shortly thereafter returns. Except, he requests more paper work to be completed, so my one co-worker heads up to dispatch to get the paperwork certified, and I am left nervously, awkwardly standing there with a staring Marine, a young recruit and a hopeful co-worker sitting at her desk, awaiting for true love to take its final course.

Well you know me, and when things get awkward, I start talking.

So I ask the recruit "Hey, what inspired you to go into the Marines?"

He tells me his tale.

Another awkward silence ensues.

So I ask the Marine, "And what inspired you to go into the Marines?"

He also tells his tale, and then says "Why are you asking all these questions?"

...I give him a glamorous answer of "Well, I just love to hear people's stories because no two stories are alike!" Gee whiz and by golly!

He then asks "Well, why are you here?"

I hold a captive audience as I relay in two minutes my life's story and how I got to this very fine point.

Meanwhile, my hopeful co-worker is adding in bits and pieces of my life telling Mr. Marine how great I am, and how I also work as an EMT in the Emergency Department, thus making me "crazy".

He then tells me that I should consider joining the Marines because they will pay for nursing school. He says "Do you know how much the GI Bill is?" And I'm like What's a GI bill? Gastrointestinal something or other? (Okay, I'm not that stupid).

He tells me "it's $80,000 to start with". Again, internally, I'm like ???

He also asks "Do you know how much you'd have to pay for school?"

Being the smart lady that I am, I say "Nothing!"

And he says "That's right!"

Man, I am brilliant.

He then says, "I should get your number"

Suddenly, I am acutely aware of the sound of the seconds ticking by on the clock.

Is he asking me out? Or does he want me to be a Marine? I flash to a music video I saw recently, and the song begins to play in my head (to be shared at the end of this blog).

He tells me "We should meet tomorrow and I could start the recruitment process!" He tells me he'd start today, but by golly, he doesn't have his paper work on him.


He then starts asking me questions like:

  • How old are you?
  • Do you have asthma?
  • Broken any bones?
  • Do you wear glasses or contacts?
  • Completed college?
  • Any Police record? (Uh, hello, I'm working at a POLICE department, I can't exactly have a record)
He then proudly tells me that I have what it takes to become a Marine. 

Then, he tells me (again), that we should meet, tomorrow, and oh by the way, how would my parents feel about me becoming one of the Few and the Proud?

I tell him, politely thanks but no thanks. I'm not joining the military.

He says "But you only have two years left."

To live?

He clarifies: To join the Marines. 

Then he tells me a zany story that I "won't believe". He's lost two sets of keys in the last 16 years he's been in the Marines! 

Egads! Now that's wild!

(Sneakily I had asked him how long he's been a Marine to gauge his age).

He's promised to return soon with bagels for me and my co-workers to compensate us for our time.

                          Music Video Link

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