It was hard to walk; my toes hurt. I looked down and was shocked to find that my toenails had grown three inches! I couldn’t find any scissors or nail clippers, and as a result I was forced to rejoin the Army (the one I parted company with in 1997.) This time my recruitment was a little different. I didn’t have to go through basic training again and I got to bring plenty of personal items; like real socks instead of those non-stretch, thick, scratchy, green, produced by lowest bidder wool ones. Any way, I was being trained for a new job. On my first day I met my instructor. He was a sergeant, an E-5 for those “in the know” and on the very first day we went on a combat mission. I was a little concerned because I still didn’t know what the hell my job was or what my training was going to entail. I showed up with all my gear, body armor, weapons and a small OD green box about the size of a toaster that contained several smaller OD green boxes. For those who aren’t “in the know,” OD means olive drab. It’s a universal Army term/acronym used to describe that wonderful color that all veterans love to hate. As the helicopter lifted off I was seated on the left side by the large sliding door. There was also a pilot, copilot and another passenger seated to my right. There were several other helicopters flying on both sides of us but we were the only one flying backwards. I began to question the pilot’s abilities. He turned us around right about the same time the explosions started. They were distant, but I could still feel the concussion resonating through the metal frame of the helicopter. I looked at our semi-confused aviator and realized that the pilot was my sergeant/instructor who never trained me on what to do with this stupid little box sitting on my lap. In the real Army, E-5s don’t fly anything, and I seamed to be aware of this in my dream too. He somehow got us to the objective without crashing and we set down in a dirt field next to some third world houses on the edge of a small city; the kind of small city where the main streets double as open sewers.
We slid the doors open and the pilot looked back at me and over the sound of the turbine engines yelled “you’re up!” I must have looked confused because and said, “You’re the expert on the X-99, so use it!” and he pointed at the small OD green box in my lap. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had just now learned the name of this stupid thing and that I didn’t know if it was used to buff shoes or teleport aliens. That’s when the woman appeared outside the door of the helicopter. She was gross to say the least and was walking toward the helicopter at an unsteady pace. She started to reach into a large bag that she had over her shoulder and when she was about 10 feet from the helicopter she took a bomb out of her bag. All my military training tells me that I should have grabbed my rifle and turned her into dog-chow, but I didn’t. I sat there clueless, clutching my X-99 with one hand and reaching over to slide the left-side door shut with the other. Hey, I didn’t want her to throw that thing inside with me. Instead, she threw it on top of the helicopter, between the rotor blades and the roof. I screamed for the pilot to fly straight up in hopes that it would fall off and gravity would take it back to the ground. We took off and were about 100 feet up and perpendicular with the ground when there was a massive explosion. We spun around several times and crashed nose first back into the field.
The pilot and copilot were crushed to death and my cohort to my right was alive but pinned inside and couldn’t move. I got out but couldn’t find my rifle. I un-holstered my pistol and started to take aim at the local people surrounding the wreckage. The guy inside obviously didn’t want to be left out of the assault and started to fire off random insults at the locals. He yelled, “You're all just pissed 'cause your moms have bigger dicks than you!” and “You bastards are so dirty you have to wipe your feet before you go outside!” While I appreciated the effort, it didn’t help much and besides, I don’t think they understood English. He continued his barrage of insults as I began shooting the scariest aggressors. First, a mother and child that were shooting at me, then a guy on a roof. There were others moving in and I got surrounded from behind. I stood up just in time to look down and watch as my chest exploded from behind. That’s when I woke up. It was 3:15 in the morning.
Needless to say I was a bit sweaty and wasn’t about to fall back to sleep any time soon. But when I did, I found myself going into a building to make a huge financial investment. It was a bright and sunny day and when I drove up to the building I thought it was a place where I could buy stock. When I walked up to the desk inside I asked to buy one million shares of Microsoft stock (talk about a nightmare!) The people looked at me, tossed me a copy of the Wall Street Journal and went back to their work. This was apparently a place that only sold investment news papers. I didn’t want to look like a complete idiot so I took the paper. I had to pay for the newspaper in the next room which was a restaurant. There were about twenty people in line and I said, “Screw this!” But I couldn’t return the paper because I had already left the first room with it. I went back to the restaurant and took a stroll through their outdoor patio, where I hopped the fence and cut through a garden. In the garden I saw the coolest thing. It was a very small (about the size of a soda can) black chihuahua with the head of a Gremlin. Yeah, a Gremlin, just like in the movie. It was inside of a gourd and was half done eating it when I grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. It was vicious! I suppose I would be too if somebody grabbed me during dinner. I put it in a Tupperware box that “just happened” to be there and took off for my car. A guy working in the garden said I couldn’t do that but I took off anyway and by the time I found my car it was pitch black outside. Weird, seeing how it was like…noontime when I got out of my car. There was just one obstacle left in my way, two half drunk teenage boys who wanted my gremlin. I think they worked there because they looked like gardeners. They approached me as I was getting in my car and started to threaten me. I grabbed a gallon of rotten milk I kept in my back seat just for emergencies (doesn’t everyone?) and splashed it all over them. I got in my car and tore out of the parking lot just as one of the teenagers who was running along side me unloaded a fire extinguisher into my left ear. I screamed out the window, “You missed me!” as loud as I could, just so he wouldn't have the satisfaction of not missing me. I drove for a few minutes and realized I was on the bus route I took to school as a kid. I followed it even though it goes nowhere near where I live now (not even the same state.) I looked at my fuel gage. It was almost on empty. I had lost my wallet. I had no cash. The alarm went off just in time to avoid this crisis.
I woke up physically exhausted and starving. I don’t know what was in last night’s potatoes au gratin but there’s no way in hell I’m eating those leftovers tonight!
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