It was warm in Tacoma the summer of 1995. It was hitting upper eighties on the thermometer. In a town where there was no air conditioning, those kinds of temps make people's fuses real, real short.
I was on McChord Air Force Base... Which doesn't really exist anymore... It was a Friday, and we had cleaned the shop up in preparation of getting the hell out of dodge for the weekend.
There was a new guy in the shop, and his name was... ... Let's go with... Allen. Airman Allen... Yeah... That'll work. He seemed a decent enough guy, HOWEVER, comma, he was competing for attention and inclusion in a group of eight guys who had traveled together from tech school, and a couple of those guys knew each other from basic training.
Tech school for our field was four months long. Add another two months for basic. Add the fourteen months we all had been stationed on base together... We were a tight knit group. We knew each other lives. We knew each other's wives. We had ate, drank, slept, wept, bled, and drank together. Yes... fully aware that "drank" was listed twice. On purpose.
Cliques in the military were formed chronologically. There were those five guys got there a year before our group. There was a new batch of Airmen who came in a year after. Each clique had some overlap, but the lines were pretty established.
Allen was a transfer. He came from another base. That was a red flag. Usually, low level grunts like that do not get transferred. The main reasons for something like that were a "hardship" transfer. I had a good friend who was from the Tacoma area and his father was dying, so... "Hardship" transfer from some other base.
The other reason would be disciplinary... "No one on this base likes this douche, so, before he gets his ass kicked..."
As we waited to be released, Allen sauntered up and asks, "Hey, what's going on this weekend?"
"I dunno... I fucking live off base and gonna fucking try and have naked weekend with the Mrs.", was my sincere and honest reply. Look, I was 22, cursed a whole lot more, and me and X1 (first ex wife) REALLY enjoyed some naked weekends. She worked two jobs and we rarely had a full weekend to ourselves. That trend would continue.
"That's cool. I am married too. I also have a 8 month old."
"Fuckin' sweet. Have a good fucking weekend." (Cursed a LOT more.)
We were dismissed... Cue the Benny Hill's "Yakety Sax" as we dashed out.
That Saturday was a beautiful morning... Crisp... but not cold... Out on the balcony of our third story apartment, X1 and I sharing a post coital cigarette... Our third of that variety of the day. I do miss being young. We put on some clothes to do some laundry in the complex's laundry center... Was about 11:00 in the morning.
I heard some clomps coming up stairs. I gave it no mind, figuring the neighbors were just getting in. Then... it happened.
A knock on the door.
X1 gave me the "Who the fuck is that?" look.
I looked through the peep hole... Allen... And my biggest regret of the day... I opened the door...
"I brought chicken!" were the first words.
"Okay...", which was received as "Come on in." Which he did...
I heard some further commotion on the stairwell. I looked down to the mid floor landing, and there was Mrs. Allen. Baby in one arm, two baby stuff laden totes, and a plastic bag of baby bottles.
I scurried down to assist, she offered baby, which I declined, and took the bottles and a tote... Introductions were made once she made it into the apartment, and load put down. Her name was.... Alicia... sure... that's what it was...
She was a cute little thing... Bounced back nicely from squeezing out the pup... I think it was a female baby. In retrospect, and even at the time... I found myself not really caring about the infant's gender.
"How did you know where I lived?", I asked.
"The emergency contact list."
Everyone in our shop carried a contact list, with numbers and addresses, in case we got called to deploy. The first guy is contacted. He in turn contacts the next guy, who contacts the next guy... etc., etc. When you got the call, you had 15 minutes to "shit, shower, and shave and get to base with your go bag.
So began one of the longest days of my young life.
We made small talk for an hour or so. Allen proceeded to eat the chicken he brought.
Alicia had the life experience of a gnat. She was the type of cute, that a guy insecure as Allen would sequester away in the hopes that she does not realize how much better she could do. This led her to not having a whole lot to say. About 1 PM, my wife informed me she was going to watch some TV.
By now, the small talk had gotten microscopic.
I tried engaging Alicia, but found that to be as deep as a drop of water on a glass table top. In the middle of listening to what she had for dinner the last week... The baby started throwing a hissy.
Alicia then... BEFORE getting the little tyke... whips her boobs (PLURAL) out. THEN gets up to get the infant.
I excused my self for a cigarette... And Allen asks me if I could not smoke. I remember laughing.
As I was finishing the cigarette, feeling sated with nicotine, but feeling beat down that I would have to go back in there... X1 comes out... Light's up and said something that I will remember til the day I die.
"If you leave me alone with those people again, I will fucking kill you."
I laughed... was NOT the reaction she wanted. She then asked me, with a look of worried concern, "Why both boobs????"
After we came back in, Allen was sitting at the kitchen table. Alicia on the floor, on a spread out blanket, Baby going to TOWN on a teet. I have heard truckers eat soup with more decorum.
I tried... I really tried... After 5 more minutes of sub atomic, quark level, small talk, I just got up and went to the couch with X1 to watch TV.
For about two fucking hours. We sat and watched TV. They kinda talked to each other. I was hoping that the hint of "Could you please get the fuck out?" would be received. It was not.
About 5 PM rolls around. A friend from the shop calls.
"DOUGIE! What're ya doin'???"
"Entertaining... Please come save me."
"I will head over."
Tee hee!!! SHARE THE MISERY!!!!
McDaniels showed up about an hour later. Twelve pack under one arm... already cold... Bless him...
We played some music, low volume, as not to disturb the baby... who was starting to take a strong disliking to being "not home".
Again, out with both boobs... McDaniels uttered the loudest whisper of "SHIT!" I had ever heard.
X1 and I headed out for a smoke, McDaniels, who did not smoke, joined us... I asked if he could get my wife a beer, he agreed and went in... I quickly laid out a plan to the Mrs. We went back in, announced we were making a beer run...
McDaniels gave me the "Oh, you clever son of a bitch" look. He mentioned, "I have plenty for all..." (subtext: CHECK!)
"Well, we need some for tomorrow too... Be right back." (CHECKMATE, BITCH!)
I don't think I have ever more gleefully escaped a residence where I paid rent. X1 and I ran up the store, bought some beer, I let her pick the brand as a form of apology for letting the Allen's in.
We got back to the complex, made out in the parking lot for a hot minute... Girded our loins... Headed back up, and upon entering heard the funniest exchange...
Alicia: "What do you think of our baby?"
McDaniels: "I would like to drop kick it off the balcony."
I surmise that she did not know he was not kidding.
For the next two hours, the kid did nothing but scream. At one point, I asked, "Is that thing okay?"
"Yeah... Probably getting tired."
McDaniels perked up... "Me too... So very tired." This earned him the "Please don't go... and if you must, TAKE ME WITH YOU" look.
X1 announced, "I am beat too... I think I am gonna lay down."
It was 8:30 on a Saturday night.
I mustered the world's worst fake yawn. I mean I went over the top. I ended it with something that sounded like the Cowardly Lion from "The Wizard of Oz" coughing up a hairball.
Allen and Alicia gave NO inclination that the hint was received...
I finally said, "Time to call it a night..."
After twenty minutes of gathering all the baby stuff... They left...
Allen looked up from the landing, "We have to do this again sometime."
I remember being too dumbstruck to respond...
Monday, I had gotten mad enough that when he came running up, "What's going on THIS weekend???? Huh???"
"Not a damn thing. Don't fucking ever fucking show up to my fucking door uninvited again."
Message received. I know because I made him repeat it back to me.
___________________________
I was taught to be a good guest. Understand that the rules of the house apply.
When Allen showed up, I was not "aged" enough, not cynical enough, to realize after an hour, I could have just said, "Hey, we have stuff to do, you got to go." I didn't really know that was an option. UNTIL THAT DAY.
I remember thinking that he was a new guy... He did not have a McDaniels to hang with. All he had was Tits McGee and Baby Slurps A Lot. I tried to be accommodating. I went above and beyond. I remembering thinking that he tried to hard to force a friendship... The best friendships occur organically.
That long, arduous day helped establish a rule that I apply to this very day: IF you have been in my house, there is a good chance I will be more than happy to have you as a guest again. Just fucking call first. Also... If I ever see a mother whip out both boobs... I gotta ask...
We sang dirges in the dark,
d
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