kontextmaschine:

In which the first time I meet Iraq vets in a bar they buy me drinks:

So this, like all of my good stories lately it seems, takes place at the Gold Room, about a year and change ago. Back when i was more seriously thinking about joining the Army (and then I asked everyone I knew who had been recently and they all said no very strongly).

So one day, at the bar, dude next to me with a bit of heft, a Hawaiian shirt, longish black ringlets, and a loose demeanor that altogether made him seem a bit like Benicio del Toro-as-Johnny Depp-as-Hunter S. Thompson’s-lawyer. He started up a conversation a little slurrily, said he’d been in Iraq, he’d been an 11B, and he bet I didn’t even know what that meant.

I actually did: “Eleven Bravo. Rifleman.”

So then he talked about how even yeah but no one in this bar supported our gun rights and I was like dude I literally am a card-carrying member of the NRA* and showed him my card.

And then he went on and said he had become a mercenary, which was believable, because signing on with PMCs after doing a tour is something people in Southern California actually do. I was fascinated and pressed for details but instead he brought me back to a table to meet a bunch of other guys from his unit that were out together.

One skinny kid from East LA who looked barely 17, with dayglo facepaint and feathers woven into his hair, seemed to be the natural (or, heck, maybe formal) leader of the group and introduced everyone to me and we got to talking. I told about how I’d been thinking of going Army OCS and they were generally supportive. Eventually someone pointed out that after all that I’d still just be a butter bar and they all broke into snickers.

I (truthfully) told them that my father, who was an airborne lieutenant in the early ‘60s, had given me advice on that exact situation: “act like you know what you’re doing, and let your sergeant make all the decisions”. They cheered and wouldn’t let me pay for my drinks for the rest of the night.

Eventually I got Dr. Gonzo to clarify the mercenary bit, apparently what he meant was “I have bought a gun”. When he went to the bathroom I brought it up with the neon chief, said that kind of concerned me. He said “yeah, that guy’s kind of a problem sometimes, we try to keep an eye on him.”

* I’m a member of the ACLU too, but not card-carrying, because they use this cheap glossy bendy cardstock and also do not offer select discounts with participating merchants across the country.