Shiner Bock Closure

There has been a throbbing twitch in the back of my head lately. This constant pounding of a choice that has been considered rash and harsh. I was thinking about re-upping with the Marines.

It has been over 2 years since my enlistment was over. You should have seen my fucking face on that plane home with a couple of whiskey and cokes in a sort of private celebration. No more yelling. No more shaving. No more haircuts. No more starching the living shit out of camouflage uniforms. No more cleaning up out of myself. No more bullshit. I was free and ready to tackle on whatever came my way in this new bright and shining life.

You come home and see the peoples faces and see their smile matching your own; happy that you are finally home. I tried to stay away from the chest rubbing and story telling about this old life careful not to become Al Bundy reliving his four touchdowns in one game. To tell you the truth, I did a very good job of it, with only stories here and there to anyone foolish enough to listen.

It happened a couple of months ago when the twitch started coming back. The nostalgia was strong and overpowering when the uncertain future constantly crept up on me. It really is different dealing with people who don't understand where you come from. People in the military do some fucked shit and some are pretty fucked up to begin with, but it is extremely predictable. There is no "I". There is only "we". Sort of like an fucked up Brady Bunch. We may not all get along, but it still is some sort of family. Out here in the "really-real world" everyone is out for themselves and if you not part of some sort existing family, people could give two shits about you. Harsh viewpoint maybe but it my own little harsh perspective.

The twitch came stronger when I took a look around at my own life. A 23 year old man living with his parents, driving a beat up Jeep Cherokee, just starting school, and working a job that is becoming a grind doesn't seem too appealing. It is just a start, but not the one I had hoped for. Truth be told, this was no one's fault but my own. My own mess is starting to suffocate me. Sitting in a cold room spreading human shit on a microscope slide shouldn't be the way to go.

It's a pain in the ass to live in a home where your parents are taking turns sleeping on the couch. Seeing your mother having symptoms of nervous breakdowns isn't easy and developing apathy to the situations doesn't help one bit. My "move out at the end of the year plan can't come soon enough.

More and more images of past glories started to pop up. I wondered what my old marine buddies would be doing for a laugh while I was sitting in my favorite hole in the wall.

"Hey Jeff! (the bartender) I'm thinking of going back to the marines. What do you think?"
Jeff- "Hey there's nothing wrong with that.........nothing wrong with that at all." His eyes solemn with the answer as reflects on the bar.
The waitress overhears and gives me a quizzical look.
Waitress- Why do you want to do that? It crazy over there in Iraq. I got a cousin over there right now.
I'm beaming this idiotic smile. "You know what the worst thing about over there? It's not the shit blowing up, or the bullets whizzing by, or the heat. You know what it was?"
Waitress- "Huh?"
"It was none of this." My finger taps the neck of the bottle of Shiner.
Waitress- "You're crazy Cody."
I grunt this laugh out and watch the news on the TV above me.

I was half joking about that. I really did miss beer out there, but that's another story all together.

It slipped out to a couple of friends and was ignored, though their opinion on the matter was not really that important. Their responses were lackluster. The life changing hammer was thrust down to the conversation only to be dismissed with sayings like "That's cool. Just don't get killed." or "That's pretty harsh. You shouldn't do it. Guess what happened today." or the brush off favorite "Silence little one and grab a beer.". These friends didn't know what it was like and couldn't relate. They are caught up with their own problems. But there was one person whose wisdom and friendship on important matters has the only that had any merit was one day and a couple of beers away. I had to talk to Roy.

We talked for some time about it and gave me some better insight into the decision being an army vet himself. Cigarettes flew by and that heart of the matter got addressed. I had officially change my mind and gave myself the recommended deadline of another year to consider. Cece came by and asked what was up and I was reluctant to say. I could just imagine the sad look on her face if the answer was "FUCK THIS SHIT I'M GOING BACK!!!" Then the prompt foot came to my ass about getting out of that job and the proper drunken bullshittery commence. They even offered me a place to stay if shit got too rough at the homefront. It felt good to talk it out and get better perspective to think things through. The only regret of that night was not buying a sixer of Shiner Bock for Sunday evening's seminar.

Thanks you two.