STORYTIME W/ NESS

BOOK ONE: NAVY BASIC TRAINING

Ness goes over a childhood goal of joining the service and exactly how that went down in six weeks of hell. The good, the bad and the crocodile tears.

Part I: Giving Background

Part II: Where Were We?

Part III: Because I Make Good Decisions

Part IV: Definitely Not A Comedy

Part V: Back Like I Never Left

Part VI: What Else Could Go Wrong?

Part VII: Thank You For Your Service

BOOK TWO: NOBODY NEEDS MAIL

Ness discusses his secondary childhood (teenhood?) goal of joining the Postal Service and the life as lowly custodial scum.

Part I: Mostly Filler Really

Part II: When You Control the Mail... You Control Information

Part III: Little Pig Little Pig, Let Me In!

Part IV: Tell Ya A Secret About Zip Codes...

Part V: We Were Never Big On Creeds

Part VI: Stay Put or Move Up?

Part VII: Being the Suck-O-Matic

Part VIII: Living the Dream

Part IX: A Janitor is Everywhere and Nowhere

Part X: Words as Weapons

Part XI: No One is Ready for Corona-Chan

Part XII: Only 25 More to Go

BOOK THREE: RELATIONSHIP STATUS

Ness gives the written take on his love life as he eagerly awaits the local news team's cameras for his upcoming documentary.

Part I: I'm Not Gay

Part II: Maybe the Mayans Were a Few Months Off?

Part III: If At First...

Part IV: Yeah, But Can I Rent It?

Part V: Sometimes Money Can Buy Love

BOOK FOUR: LEGALIZE STORYTIME

Ness talks about marijuana.

Part I: Everybody's On Something

Part II: Can Quit Whenever I Want

Part III: Yes But What About Me?

Part IV: In Like A Dirty Shirt

Part V: Guess This Is My Life Now

BOOK FIVE: LOVE IS LIKE A ROLLER COASTER

Ness speaks of his love of theme parks.

Part I: Baby's First Ride

Part II: What If The Straps Come Off During A Loop

Part III: Apparently There's 2 N's in Millennium

Part IV: Slim Pickings on Gifs

Part V: Kings Island Coaster Countdown Part I

Part VI: Kings Island Coaster Countdown Part II

BOOK SIX: IF YA SMELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLALALALO

Time to be reminiscent about being a wrestling fan.

Part I: Never Born A Wrestling Fan

Part II: Well, It Is Pretty Gay

Part III: 99 Problems But A Lack of Interest Ain't One

Part IV: ECW Top 10 Theme Song?

Part V: Raven's Hair Looks Like Ramen Noodles

Part VI: No, I Think I Will Try This At Home

Part VII: Wrestling Helped Me?

Part VIII: "TNA Gif" Borderline NSFW

Part IX: Hey... Nice Sandman Shirt, Asshole

Part X: One More Run As A Fan

Part XI: The Greatest Non-Wrestling or The Only?

Part XII: One More For The Road?

Part XIII: Like A Terry Funk Retirement

BOOK SEVEN: Turn The Page, Wash Your Hands

The comic book journey

Part I: With Great Power...

Part II: I Wanna Be The Very Best

Part III: Mondays Are Fine When You Luke Harper Them

Part IV: From Poster to Mod Back to Poster

Part V: Loyal Like Fat Joey

Part VI: No Canadians Allowed

Part VII: I Would Download A Car If I Could

Part VIII: Don't Ever Say That

BOOK EIGHT: This Song Sucks

Time to discuss the most overlooked hobby... music.

Part I: Shut Up & Listen

Part II: Saddest Origin Story Ever

Part III: Kinda Miss It Honestly

Part IV: Faction Warfare

Part V: There's Gotta Be A Better Way

Part VI: All The Thorns In My Eye

Part VII: Who Needs The Radio?

BOOK NINE: PEE DUB

Saving the best for last? This forum...

Part I: Intro

Part II: We're Here Now

Part III: New Home

Part IV: Bits and Pieces

Part V: Question & Answer

NESS LIFE!

Fucking. Yes.

I'll definitely be watching (reading) this thread.

GIVING BACKGROUND (Like an Episode of Judge Mathis)

My Dad enlisted in the Air Force when I was around 2 years old. We were living in Detroit at the time and I've always heard he did it as a means of getting us out of poverty. He worked for one of the auto plants at the time and ya know how that turned out. I did not move out of the house until, well very recently. So I was with him and my Mom for all their moves. Considering it was a 20+ year career we did not really move around all that much. 6 bases in total, so we stayed at each one for several years. If you're wondering: Texas, Alaska, Virginia, Florida, Oklahoma, Ohio.

I did not really experience life of the normal military brat as I only heard tales from others. I say that because others tended to move around a lot. It wasn't uncommon to be the new kid several times in a single school year. Not only did he not move us that often, but he managed (for the most part) to always swing a cushy Monday through Friday gig. To make it even sweeter of a deal he never deployed, ever. Sure he'd go training at a base in the country for a few weeks at a time but he was always in our lives. So it seemed like a pretty good gig with the only downside that I could think of that he never got to visit anywhere remote or tropical. No bragging about living in Japan or Spain. Just random states. I guess Alaska, which I suppose could be it's own set of future stories.

So my gameplan was almost always to follow in his footsteps and enlist in the Air Force. Despite that I never bothered with ROTC in high school. Looking back it would've made a lot of sense. It pays for college and guarantees me a job as an officer. Would be a lot easier to make a career out of it too. Why didn't I? I saw work and being an adult as this faraway thing and I'd have plenty of time to be serious. For now I just wanted to enjoy being a kid. My Dad never pushed me into joining the military. It wasn't some legacy thing and if anything I think he hinted that he didn't want me to. Obviously his "run" wasn't typical and could easily be killed in some foreign warzone. I even didn't think that was a possibility. Army and Marines are the bullet sponges or "boots on the ground". Air Force just drops them up from a plane!

I graduated in 03, but didn't march to a recruiter the next day. My Dad wanted me to go to college. I figured, okay, I'll get a degree and if job-wise it doesn't work out I can always go the officer route. College to me was the biggest waste of time in my life. Throughout my education up until college it seemed to be drilled into my head that without a degree you're nothing and will end up working at McDonalds. Perhaps that is what appealed to me about the military. It was a guaranteed job with a sweet retirement package. You can literally retire after 20 years. As a regular grunt that's probably not enough to live off of (assuming it's 50% base pay) especially if you have a family, but it's something. That was my goal: do my 20 and live that weird uncle life.

Like I said college was a waste of time. I shouldn't say having a degree is worthless, but maybe having the right degree is the issue. Instead of pushing the GO TO COLLEGE narrative I wish it was more establishing what would be in demand. Less of a stigma attached to trade schools with actual marketable skills. It was completely pointless of me to go to college post-high school for one simple reason. What do I want to do with my life, like what am I interested in?



The little exchange between Cameron and Ferris' girlfriend really spoke to me. I have no real interests or passions. But I relented and went to college because it's what you do. Figured I'd make up my mind after getting those general electives out the way. Then my mind was to just get a generic degree to have one and enlist. Kept swapping majors around and started to get lazy. I wasn't working at the time so it was just school and yet I was just bored of it. Grades were slipping and I was taking less classes despite not even working a job, so what was my excuse? Perhaps it was the sunk-cost of putting that time in to school that kept me going? Who knows. I finally said fuck college and I'll just join the Air Force as a regular enlisted. Only problem was time had passed me by and I was too old to do so. Barely. You had to be 27 by time you were in boot camp. I was already 27 and hadn't even spoke to a recruiter. But there was hope because the Navy (and the Army I guess) had a slightly higher cut off at 34.

4 years prior my brother enlisted in the Navy. Not sure why he didn't go with Air Force, but I think he did it because he was never book smart so college wasn't an option. Unlike me I think my parents told him to either enlist or hit the books. I remember reading his letters home to Mom and how much trouble he had adjusting in boot camp. It always looked easy to me in the movies. Just stand up straight and do what you're told. We were never really close, still aren't, but like the selfish shithead I am I decided to start picking his brain. At this point in time he had injured himself and would be getting out, so I kept trying to find out all I could before he came back. I'll detail it more in the next post, but right when he returned home I was going to be shipped out. How did it go? Well, I'm currently working for the Post Office...

Stay tuned as we discuss drinking 30 gallons to produce an ounce of urine, not to mention deep dish pizza.

Oh shit, I have a very strong feeling developing that Ness is really just alternate timeline/parallel universe 🤯.

Definitely onboard with this storytime.

I’m hooked.

WHERE WERE WE?

If you were paying attention to my previous entry you will recall I mentioned I tried to enlist when I was 27. And assuming I graduated high school on time and didn't take one of those "gap years" to backpack through Europe that means I was going to college was a long-ass time. I took the summer off following graduation and signed up to the local community college for the fall semester. I got an associates after 3 years, so I was already taking longer than normal. After that I tried transferring to an actual university and then dicked around for 4 years as mentioned.

In hindsight I wish I had just bypassed school entirely and started working. I missed out on about a decade of work experience since I was just living at home and being a student. Of course like a Rube Goldberg machine (i.e. Mousetrap boardgame) everything led to where I currently am. If I had gone straight to the postal service I may have been a mailman and likely quit before getting my cushy job I have now. I don't necessarily think college is a scam, but I do think it's not for everyone. Doesn't help that it's a seller's market where an entry level job requires a bachelor's and starts at 15 an hour.

Timeline wise we're looking at 2012 and we'll say between March and April. My mind was pretty much made up at this point. Didn't bother with signing up for future classes and considered myself a college dropout. If the enlistment thing didn't work out for whatever reason I would just do what I should've done after high school and find a job because I clearly wasn't doing anything with my life up to that point. There was a local recruiting office a few lights from my house so that would be my first stop. Sent them an e-mail to let whoever know that I was interested. They got back to me to set up a meeting and it was time to go have a chat.

I must've seen recruiters setting up booths in my high school cafeteria, but never paid them any mind. I really didn't put much stock into enlisting other than thinking of it as some super distant thing I'd deal with eventually like piling dishes in the sink. Recruiters seem to get this bad reputation, at least from my perspective where they'll do and say anything to get you to sign. Promise you whatever you want to hear and always get it in writing. I didn't really feel that was the case with me, but maybe since I was older they weren't super invested in getting me in. Or maybe they weren't as desperate for quotas because certainly as the economy got bad the military is an easy sell so they didn't need to bend over backwards to get suckers to sign up.

The whole process for me was pretty quick and easy. From my first meeting until I arrived at boot camp was weeks to a month. It could take months or a year or more for some with the constant back and forth. The important thing is to make sure you're healthy enough to enlist and to test you to find out what jobs you are eligible for, which was something I was very interested in. While I always saw military as my future, much like going to college I was still completely clueless. Alright I'm here, but what do I do now? The only job I ever thought about was being a "gate guard", ya know the guy that checks the IDs at the entrance. Always told my Dad that I would love to do that. First off... it's not an actual job. It's an assignment of the military police. And I think it may even be outsourced to civilian contractors at this point. He claimed I would be bored if I did that every day. He was right because I get bored as shit doing the same stuff every day at work and that involves a lot more than just waving people through.

Alright so I'm interested in enlisting and I seem relatively healthy, right? That means you'll be heading over the MEPS, Military Entrance Process Station, where you'll get a physical and take the ASVAB test and find out what jobs you're eligible for. So they had a group of us together that day at the recruiter's office and they wanted us to do a piss test. Turns out they were going to make us do it at MEPS anyway but this was just to not waste their time. If you failed it here, well no sense in driving a hour plus to the nearest MEPS since you won't pass anyway. One girl's piss they could tell she recently smoked some weed. She claimed that it was all due to second hand smoke. I won't pretend to know the ins and out of how this sorta thing works, but that sounds like bullshit to me.

What ended up happening is the recruiter took us down there just to take the ASVAB test. No physical checkup or drug test, just the written exam to find out what jobs we are eligible for. The station was about an hour plus away and I dunno if the drama surrounding her failing the piss test at the recruiter's, traffic or just bad time management but we were late. If we pretend the test was at 4:00, I'm gonna say we got to the parking lot at 4:05. So naturally they send me in by myself. Ugh. So I go to the testing room and the guy overseeing it has a meltdown. I'm by myself so all the venom is directed at me. Eventually the other recruits join me (minus the piss test girl LOL) and the administrator just waves his arms and allows us to test.

I was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing. On one hand I took it as the first set of verbal lashing I was gonna get in boot camp, but on the other hand I'm not sure what the big deal was if he let us test anyway. If you aren't set up by the deadline then kick me the fuck out and I'll let the recruiter know he fucked up and will have to try again. As far as my testing went I wasn't good enough to be a "Nuke" but I did pretty solid otherwise. We'll call it a 75/100 for simplicity. A nuke from what I understand is just a smart motherfucker, so likely an engineer or something. Either it's just scoring really high or excelling at certain subjects.

Before I could really decide on a job I needed to get a physical and all that. Unlike the previous visit it would be an overnight stay. Basically how it works is they drop us off at the hotel that's affiliated with them (read: they got a sweet government contract) and the next day MEPS has their way with us. They pair you up in a hotel room and you're supposed to report to the main conference room first thing in the morning where we'll eat and get on the bus. One thing I remember is the guy overseeing everything believed 15 minutes early was being on time. If we're due to check in at 6:00 AM than showing up at 5:50 is technically late. Only thing is you can't just roll outta bed and be there because you're bunked with someone, remember?

Can you guess what happened? Yep, the dude I shared a room with didn't wanna get up. I had to get him up and all that. I was ready, but you gotta go together because buddy system! We of course got yelled at because we were late. Technically we weren't, but ya know that 15 minute thing he had a hard on for. His justification was a test to get us to follow instructions. I get it, but hey it wasn't my fault!

One thing I've kinda always knew but didn't think would be an issue is stage fright. One of the first things you gotta do during the physical is take the piss test. Unlike at the recruiters where they sent us to a restroom solo you had to do it as a group in front of someone. And to make matters worse it wasn't a dude waiting there for when you were ready to go. Nope, every so often they'd bring us in to have a go. In between sessions you could either drink water or get other stuff done like your physical. I kept going back and forth, drinking like a fish, but never managed to make a sample. Worst is when I finally managed to do some... I didn't do enough to reach the line. I couldn't add to it later. Had to be all or nothing.

Got so bad that they were about to close up shop for the day. If you didn't do it then you'd just have to come back and try again at a later date. That means another overnight stay at the hotel and redoing all the rigamarole over again. But at the final try I managed to piss enough to get it into the system. Not sure how much water I ended up drinking, but it was a lot.



I kinda already knew this, but my eyes are fucked up. Well one of them is. I had a lazy eye when I was younger and had corrective surgery when I was 5. It's still kinda off, but miles better than it was. My other eye is perfect. Basically as long as nothing bad happens to my good eye I'm fine, but it's always an issue when taking an eye exam. I also have color deficiency, which means I can't distinguish certain colors. Ever take that test where it's a circle made of tiny circles and it spells out a number? Yeah can't see it. I do wonder if those 3D Eye Posters were a similar thing.

What this means is the 100 jobs I was eligible for got shrunk down to two. My options were be a cook on a sub or hospital corpsman. Not sure what that job entails, but I assume all the little things under a nurse like EMT and such. I thought it worked out well in that regard because maybe I'll actually have a future post-Navy if for whatever reason I couldn't make it to 20. A guy who was next in line to me had the same options, which I'm just assuming means these are the only jobs where sight isn't a factor. He was doing his damndest to convince me that being a cook on a sub was the better gig. Framed it as a means of travel whereas a corpsman would be sent with the marines on the battlefield to be their medic. Fun fact: the asshole picked medical so what the fuck was he doing... trying for job security if there was one less competitor?

When I did my interview to actually pick my job they laughed when I brought up needing time to decide, showing me that there really wasn't even a decision here. I chose HM Corpsman, or as I originally called it Corpseman. As if anyone wants to hear the term "corpse" when it comes to anything healthcare related. Originally I was penciled in for an October ship date for boot camp. I thought, okay that gives me a few months to get fit and learn to swim. No I didn't know how at that point. Before I signed my contract and swore in they let me know someone had dropped out of an upcoming boot camp. I guess it's by job? This one was in May and decided fuck it I'll just figure everything out when I get there. Would a few months have made much of a difference? Guess we'll never know.

My name was on the dotted line and I was now committed to quite a bit. Original enlistment was 4 years active duty and another 4 in the reserves. So even if I decided to get out after 4 I'd have to do another 4 part-time. Suppose if they're gonna train me in a demanded field they want their money's worth. And if I'd be forced to do reserves I might as well stay in and 8 years is nearly half-way to 20 so might as well go all the way.

It was time to drive us home. I learned something very valuable. Water you drink does not disappear. It has to go somewhere. I had to go soooooooooooo bad on that drive back. Once we got back to the recruiter's station I pissed longer than I ever have in my entire life. I'd be willing to bet I've gone weeks in my life where I don't even piss that much. Maybe not, but you ever feel like you need to flush in the middle of a piss? Yeah, it was that much.



I don't have any memories of what I did during the time between finding out I'd be shipping out in mere weeks and the day of. I think my brother came home the weekend before. The day of I got two calls from both my grandmas. One always made sure to send me X-mas/Birthday cards and to call on various holidays. The other wouldn't visit us, but was plenty friendly when we visited her. She called me as well, which surprised the fuck outta me. Outside of my immediate family the only member of my family that I felt gave a shit about me was the other grandma, so to get a call from her was kinda mind blowing. They just wanted to wish me luck and all that. Parent's dropped me off and it was pretty emotional and we said our good-byes. I was concerned that I wouldn't learn to swim and that would be the end of me. Dad told me not to sweat it and could always come back.

Recruiter didn't take me to MEPS this time. Instead they took me to another recruiting station where some others were going as I guess a way of saving on gas? I dunno, but I do remember before they left I tried to thank them for assistance and all that but she bolted out the door so damn fast. I already got my quota, you're someone else's problem now.



So it was time for another overnight MEPS visit. This part has gotta be nerve wracking because just having a contract and a ship date doesn't really mean anything. Before you get on the plane to boot camp they do one last inspection of you. Another physical and all that. I don't remember if we did another piss test, but it was another day of back and forth. This go-round my hotel mate was the perfect example of why nothing is guaranteed. Apparently he had a ship date but something went wrong and it had to be postponed. That would suck to have all these good-byes and then come back and try again. Guess it could be worse, you could always go to boot camp and then come back a failure. I know from experience dude.

In the conference room of the hotel they had TVs and game consoles. I just hid in my hotel room watching TV, but I remember the night before some kid started up God of War 3 and played it start to finish overnight. Absolute legend. The guy overseeing everything (not the 15 minute guy this time which pissed me off since I made sure we were there on time although you'd think a bunkmate who had been here before wouldn't need help) went off on the kid in one of those boomer rants. Started criticizing the younger generation for wasting their life away on video games and we need to start living life. Go shoot a gun or something. Someone quipped asking him where is the hotel's gun range. That shut him up pretty quick.

We lined up and went on the bus to MEPS. Everything went smoothly for me and they issued us plane tickets. I guess what they try to do is pair all the recruits from each MEPS so they arrive together. Everyone shipping to the Navy boot camp on one flight, etc. Naturally they couldn't fit me with the other guys so I was solo. They agreed to wait for me. Destination was Chicago and I had never been to a big city airport before. And it showed because I was freaking out as this homeless guy started following up. He must've known we were there for boot camp because he wanted to "show us the way". They did warn us to watch out for guys like him back at MEPS. Not sure what the goal is... robbery? Sodomy?

As we waited for all the recruits to arrive at the airport check-in they gave us each a voucher for something to eat. We all went in together for some deep dish pizza. I think there were about 8 of us, so we had to pool our slips together to justify it. Don't remember if it was good, but I do wonder if all of them made it or not. I think only one of them found their way into my unit.

Once the final set checked in they put us on the bus as we drove to the boot camp location, about 30 minutes away. They played a video explaining what we were getting into. I dunno about anyone else but I find bus rides incredibly relaxing. Perhaps it just reminds me of a simpler time in my life where there were no worries and you just went along with a predetermined destiny of going to school.

Join me next time as we discuss being processed, that first night of hell and a life lesson from Jody.

All jokes aside; I AM VERY INVESTED IN THIS.

Can't wait for more. So interested in finding out about Ness.

Feb 12, 2020 22:40:30 GMT The Kid said:

All jokes aside; I AM VERY INVESTED IN THIS.

Can't wait for more. So interested in finding out about Ness.

Ditto. Fucking hooked.

Especially can't wait for Ness's Jody story. Fuck Jodies.

BECAUSE I MAKE GOOD DECISIONS

Once the bus arrived at the training center things took a 180. Basic training, boot camp, is something you can't really prepare for. Sure you can watch movies and pick the brain of the recruiter all you want, but until you experience it yourself you just don't know what you're in for. I look at it like the macho bullshit that people spout online about subduing a hysterical woman instead of hitting her if she attacks. Everyone has a plan until they're punched in the face. I always hated how boomers shit on the current system because supposedly it's pussified now. I don't know if that's true and I really don't know what the difference is. Is it a physical component? Like were they able to smack a bitch around before 1980? I just file it with their usual bootstrap bullshit.

So the doors open and the yelling begins. We are forced to MOVE MOVE MOVE into the hallway and of course we fail right away. That's by design obviously as they didn't tell us the rules. In the center of the floor are a bunch of flags and they yell at us not to step on them. They have us line up on both sides (with those flags in the center) as they give us a talking to. One thing they stressed was we were not at MEPS anymore. I understand why they do everything they do. They break you down as an individual and build you up as a solider (or here a seaman!) and part of a team. I get it, I do, but to me it always bugged me how they did it because there's no draft. We all volunteered and want to be here. It's the system though.

So what happened next is we got to call home. I guess this is to let them know we arrived safely and all that. They had a room full of pay phones, which are probably the last in existence as I'll find out when I fly back. We don't really need to bring anything to boot camp other than the basics like your ID, bank stuff, etc. Everything else gets mailed back, including cell phones if you brought them. Don't know which of my parents I spoke to for the initial call or if I had time to talk to both, but trust me when I say the call was short.

The first day was rough to me for one reason: sleep. The first "night" is more of an endurance race as you do not go to sleep the first day in. All the stuff they run you through overlaps and you don't actually get to lay down and rest until the next night, so a full 48 and that's assuming you got a good night's rest before flying out. Yeah right. What makes it tough is the next morning comes really fucking quick and you know it goes down when none of us are ready.

First night is a lot of processing, in fact the whole first week is processing. They call it P-Week. One of the first things we did post-phone call is another piss test. Oh goddammit not again! They're very serious about their D.A.R.E. Program. What happens here is we all line up and walk in this circle. Part of the circle is inside a restroom where a few guys are waiting to collect our piss. Can't go? Back in line. And you keep walking around, dipping out to drink from the fountain, and back until you succeed. I know I didn't get my cup filled on my first go, but it went a lot sooner than at MEPS. I recall it getting dangerously close to the line because when I was finally going I was really proud and not paying attention. I stopped myself and I suppose some dripped on out before I got yelled at for "PISSING ON MY FLOOR!", whoops.

Most of it is a blur. I can't really tell you what exactly happened during the first night as opposed to other things in P-Week (heh). I just know when they had us sit at school desks I had the heaviest head in the world. Could not keep it up and had to keep forcing myself to stay awake? Oh Ness, you've never done an all-nighter? Watta bitch. No, I really haven't. I've never been one to stay up all-night and I've always had a strict sleep schedule so this stay up for 2 days business really fucked me up.

Part of P-Week involved a lot of standing around and doing simple tasks that a lot of us fucked up on. For instance once we got the pee in a cup, it was time to take said cup and turn it in. We lined up and signed by our names when we turned in our sample. When it was my turn I went right to the sheet and signed it. The guy at the table asked me a simple question... did I tell you to sign that motherfucker? They liked motherfucker. A lot of stuff in basic is just waiting around and being told what to do. Sounds simple, but a lot times it wasn't. Instead of watching the guys in front and making sure I didn't fuck up I should've just turned my brain off and only do things when told. It isn't just doing the task, but when and how.

Our initial uniform was PT gear, which consisted of purple sweat pants and a bright orange shirt. We wouldn't get uniforms until a little bit later. Like I said earlier they sent everything we brought back home, which included any clothes we had on. Underwear included. They assigned us tighty whiteys, so if you're not a brief guy you're gonna be until graduation.

I liked my unit number: 222. Easy to remember and sounds cool. After moving us around for a while we finally reached our bunks. They had us line up in front of our beds and the tall petty officer asked us all an important question. Do we wanna get out? He phrased it by saying a lot of us probably are regretting coming here right about now. If anyone wanted to leave, just say so. No one did. He told us at that point that at least half of you won't make it. In my mind I thought that was bullshit, but I got out so he was probably right. I mean, you know how things work at your own job. I've been here a minute, what do I know?

Turns out every little statement like that was always true. At least from my perspective.

Anyways it was finally time to go to bed. For this first bunk assignment I was on the bottom and I was ready to go to sleep. I was tired and exhausted, but fate would not allow it. Feels like this was a scene straight out of a movie, but a few people quipped about the hell we were about to endure. Couldn't tell you how it happened, but not long after the entire unit began singing "Because I Got High" - not making this up. Was it one person starting and we all joined in? No clue. Stupid thing to do because our petty officers came back and yelled at us. Forced us out of bed for some impromptu physical training as punishment before we finally were put to sleep.

The next morning came rather quickly. First wakeup is always a shocker. No alarm clocks just a bunch of people coming in and telling us to get up. No one is ready. I wasn't ready for the visual I was gonna see either. My nose bleed on my pillowcase overnight, so naturally I flip that bitch over. Cocaine's a hell of a drug. It was time to shave for the first time. Part of our issued gear was a 5-blade Gillete Fusion. Shaving sucked because it was like 5 guys to a mirror. If you were smart you could wake up earlier than everyone and have the sink to yourself, but obviously here wasn't an option.

When the petty officer inspected my work he told me "you're gonna struggle, recruit." I didn't quite get what he meant. Did I not do a good enough job? Was it my body language? To this day I dunno why he said that, but again he was right. I did struggle. We went to get haircuts not long after this and I have never seen so many people in my life. All crushed together in the hallways. They had us sit down inside these hallways for some man-to-man talks. Very insightful can't lie.

First order of business was asking us if any of us missed our parents. One guy got destroyed because he genuinely missed them when he whimpered, I can't miss my Mom? LOL. They told us that they were finally happy to have the house to themselves, to trust us they aren't even thinking about us. Then they mentioned him, Jody. Jody is an idea. He could be a fellow veteran, some loser back home, even your own father. The running gag is if the US Government wanted you to have a woman they would have assigned you one. They told us this because a lot of us were to going to get Dear John Letters. Last thing a recruit needs is to be stressing over a woman. His focus needs to be on his future here.

I didn't have a girlfriend going into basic (yeah, there's a shocker) so I was able to really take in what they were saying. I imagine if I was seeing someone I would've just rolled my eyes at this. They told us not to worry about her back home and to just dump her. Will it be devastating? Probably not but she'll get over it because Jody's keeping her company. Just like you she's probably lonely and feeling empty inside. But not for loooooooong. You know why? Because Jody's there. If I were talking to a recruit and he had a girlfriend going in I'd tell him to break up with her. He wouldn't listen of course. Like I'm sure not many did either. Until they receive their own letter/crushing phone call. You've probably seen those lulz bumper stickers: my girlfriend's husband fights for your freedom. What kinda douche would put that on his car? A Jody of course.

It's kinda shocking how red pilled they could be about the opposite sex and yet so many get married young despite knowing how rampant infidelity is among spouses in the military. But at the same time living in the barracks sucks. You don't get to take advantage of that sweet housing allowance to get your own place until you hit E4, which can take a few years after boot camp. Unless you're married. So that's likely why dudes elope with the first piece of ass they meet outside the base. Or they actually believe it's love and not those sweet, sweet benefits a Dependapotamus is after hanging out right outside the main entrance of every military base.

After that heart-to-heart we went to a classroom to mail home information about graduation. Assuming there were no setbacks I was set for a ceremony in about 10 weeks. I'm not sure if we could invite more than a few guests, but in order to get in they had to give a password since they were civilians. He told us the password was "the worst president ever", which I and a few quipped "heh, Bush". He got mad. Turns out he meant Obama. Makes sense as I don't think I've ever met a left-leaning service member, my Dad included. I assume the password is simply the current president so if you want to attend the next one it shouldn't be too difficult.

I learned something pretty important in the first few days in boot camp. I am not tall. Okay I already knew that, but I thought I was average or in the middle. In basic you line up by height, shortest in front tallest in back. Before we figured things out I was always looking at the middle, but nope my short ass goes up front. I believe the average for the country is 5'10 and I'm 5'6 so yeah. I wasn't the first in line, but I was closer to the front than the back. At first I tried just memorizing who was in front and behind me, but when they were gone for whatever reason my brain just had a meltdown.

Boot camp is all about routine. That I do like as I'm a creature of habit. Or autistic, I'm not really sure. I liked that I didn't have to think things too deeply. We have a schedule to uphold and we got three squares a day. One thing they always stressed is that boot camp is the hardest part of your enlistment. If you can get through this it's all cake in comparison. I don't know if that was true or just something they say to get motivated to pass in one of those rip the bandaid off scenarios. Since I never made it past battle stations I could not tell you. What's battle stations? To be honest you probably know just as much as I do about it, but that's the final exam of boot camp. We'll talk about it next time where I start to march, get pushed off a diving board and I learn why you never volunteer for anything.

I fucking love this shit.

PW's very own Terminal Lance!

Another awesome installment. I’m definitely a Jody.

I also love that JTJ gets to chime in with his stories too. It’s like a modern day split right here in Fan Fic!

Nah don’t stop, JTJ!

I love this shit. I’ve always been intrigued by the military and my brother in law who got injured and nearly blinded in the Marines keeps his stories minimal except how his best friend died the day on the day he was injured from an explosion. Respectfully I don’t ask many questions. I just know he voluntarily went in right after 9/11 happened and is a successful nurse now.

And a kid I went to High School with also keeps his stories short because he was almost killed also. He says a bullet whizzed by his head. And thats it. He doesn’t tell more stories.

Plus I know that PTSD is a real thing and I’m not going to trigger it for my own entertainment.

So I’m all for stories if they don’t bother you guys.

For the official record, this thread is already a million times better than The Kid's (Jody) LIFE.

Yeah I hope Jeff doesn't stop posting. Obviously I can't relate to his actual time in the army and my time in boot camp was only 6 weeks but it's fun to read the little things.

Feb 18, 2020 0:09:27 GMT 🤯 said:

For the official record, this thread is already a million times better than The Kid 's (Jody) LIFE.

Nothing beats the original. 

Wait, Ness... No spoilers or anything, but... You never made it to the fleet!? Whaaaa!?!?

Feb 18, 2020 0:26:31 GMT 🤯 said:

Wait, Ness ... No spoilers or anything, but... You never made it to the fleet!? Whaaaa!?!?

I thought I hinted at it here or elsewhere, but yeah it very much is one of those man makes plan and God laughs stories.

Coming in 3rd place in a race as a snowflake is pretty impressive.

DEFINITELY NOT A COMEDY

There are lots of reasons to enlist. I did it just for the money aspect. If it wasn't for the retirement and health care no way would it have even been an option. I saw it as an "easy" way to battle the economy. All you had to do was sign the dotted line, right? Getting to 20 isn't always easy though. Heck I didn't even get to 20 weeks. Some are patriotic. I have no allegiance to my country. It's like my race, I really had no say. Some wanna kill brown people. Some to pay for college. Others as a way of earning citizenship.

In my unit we had two petty officers (drill sergeants): a tall bald dude and a short irish guy. I don't know if he was irish, but he had red hair and whenever his phone would ring it would play THIS so if I reference them at all that's how you'll know who I mean. For the record all those "you're gonna struggle" comments came from the tall piece of shit. There was another more senior guy that would pop in periodically, but for the most part it was just the two. Not sure if the senior one was exclusive to us or if he bounced between each unit, but I just know he wasn't with us from rise and shine to bed. I'll say he was there 60-70% of the time.

One thing that they taught us early on in P-Week was what to say when they talked to you. They only wanted us to answer in one of two ways: "Yes Petty Officer!" and "Moving Petty Officer!", so if you forgot or messed up they'd either yell at you or humiliate you. That aspect of being a drill sergeant is probably fun since you can test your comedic chops. Short one cracked me up one day when he called a recruit and instead of "moving" they replied with "I'm coming Petty Officer" and he of course shouted "God I hope not!"

I'm not sure if there are mixed sex units, but obviously with the exception of seeing a random female petty officer we didn't encounter too many women. I suppose we'd only see them if we passed another unit in a hallway. Don't look at them or you'll get yelled at. I found the women instructors were way meaner too. Probably to make up for the fact that they wouldn't be taken seriously otherwise. We really only saw them in classroom settings or in line for lunch. They tried to discourage us from even thinking about the women in a sexual way by referencing grilled cheese and tomato soup. Think of the sandwich dipped in the soup and then pulled apart. During our shower time we didn't really have much time to truly wash ourselves and since the girls were likely synched with their periods they told us that to imagine a nasty scene between their legs. Sounds gross as shit, but I'm sure given the opportunity not many would say no even with that.

Around this time we started getting checked out, health-wise. Get a physical and see how fucked up your teeth are. Another perk of joining the military is the sweet health care. Enlisted everything's covered through Tricare. Well, as long as you go to a military hospital. And while you're in the service why wouldn't you? Spouse is for life, kids until 23 or at least was when I was living with my Dad. It was really 18, but extended it if you're going to college. Not sure if that changed under the evolving healthcare laws. Since kids got to stay on their parent's plan until like 45 under Obamacare I'd think the military would adapt too. They gave us shots (a lot) and drew blood. This sorta gave me the heads up that maaaaaaaaybe I'm not cut out of health care. That's what Dad did. Dunno his official title and job throughout the years, but HM Corpsman for the Air Force is close enough.

Learned that my bloodtype is B-Positive. Easy to remember since I'm so negative. They sat us down to draw blood and the guy told me to lay my arm out. He didn't say which, so I had both out and he joked that is it that bad where I need a hug? When I went again at a later date I did it again (I forgot) and he made the same joke. Ugh. Like I said they gave us a lot of shots. Couldn't tell you what a single one was. Like they honestly could've pulled out a bottle of AIDS and I wouldn't have known in that assembly line. Getting poked with a needle in the ass isn't fun.

Towards the end of P-Week we got our actual uniforms, along with a shit ton of other stuff. I liked the uniform aspect as it made things super official from that point forward. Only thing that sucked is outside of when we're doing PT we had to wear the boots. It sucks because that's a solid 10 hours of being in those things. Lots of people got blisters. And that's all assuming they fit right. There's a machine you step on that tells you what size you should wear. Obviously it's not 100% accurate. Was for me. Once you're assigned everything they give you this bag and you have to stuff everything inside it because it's time to march from our P-Week barracks to our new recruit barracks. Honestly felt like it took us forever to get there, but that was mostly because of all the weight on our backs. Nearly fell on my ass when I first put it on.

Speaking of marching... I may very well take the title as worst one of all-time. Several things contributed to me getting out, but I can say marching was easily one of them. Tall guy bragged about the so-called worst one he'd ever seen and how even he was able to get him in shape. I feel like I took that title from that recruit, although I never officially got it myself. Whenever I bring up my struggles to people they always tell me how easy it is and all that. Which is weird because whenever I asked them how long their enlistment lasted and they clam up.

They usually will have two guys (alternating I guess) as cadence callers. Ya know, the guys who say left, right, left, right as you march. Now that's supposed to make everything easier because we're all in-sync since you move your left when he says so. Didn't help me. It was probably nerves and rather than relaxing and turning my mind off I was too paranoid to not fuck up. They discourage this obviously, but I refused to not look at my boots. Even if it was just downward peripheral I was just staring down make sure my marching was in line with the guy in front of me. This was also a big reason you lined up by height I would imagine.

See what happens early on is a lot of stepping on heels and just a mess of a formation. It's supposed to get better, but it never did for me. I improved from where I started, but ehhh. The thing is if you mess up you just gotta keep going. And here's where I deserved to get an ass whooping. Can't march to save my life and I don't know if the guy in front of me had a loose lace that came undone or if something I did caused it but I kept stepping on his untied lace. And each time I did it caused him to jerk back since me stepping on it halted his movement. They refused to let us stop to let him tie it, so every other step I stepped on it again and it just got worse and worse. Meanwhile, the dude behind me (or a few back anyways) was cracking up. Normally if someone is getting yelled at the last thing you wanna do is laugh or crack a smile because then they turn to you.

SOMETHING FUNNY RECRUIT?!? - Worst thing you can do is rubber neck during one of those instances. Just be glad it ain't happening to you.

Not in this case. Perhaps I was just too much of a fuck-up to ignore or maybe they agreed? I think eventually his lace snapped and they excused him from formation to deal with it. If anyone deserved a blanket party that night it was me. With more practice I did get a little better, but then the ultimate cringe happened and they introduced the pivot to our marching. I could handle going straight and making basic turns, but pivoting is where in one motion we change our entire formation in one smooth motion. No matter how many times we did it I couldn't grasp the concept. One of my worst yellings came when I messed up and they forced us to stop.

WHO KEEPS SCREWING AROUND? OH IT'S NESS? WHY AM I NOT FUCKING SURPRISED?!?

When we got back inside a fellow recruit did try to help me and we did some practicing inside to get the hang of it. I think he was the one directly behind me because he kept giving me encouragement by whispering (sweet nothings?) in my ear to relax, lean back and show off a little swagger when you're marching. Perhaps I was too stiff and he was trying to help? That sorta brotherhood is something I wish I could have experienced more of if I stayed in. I dunno if it was him, but I think the first person to get out and quit was likely during P-Week and a few recruits were trying to talk him out of it. He went off on them, but there is a certain element of we're in this together in a lot of ways.

The first week or two were fine, but once they learned my name it was all downhill for me. Either I was a spectacular failure they couldn't look past or they target certain weaker recruits and ride them. It really felt like they were out to get me towards the end. Just wanted to keep my head down and get through this without making a scene, but that was not to be. Truth be told I'm sure the things they said to me were on the same level that any athlete gets from a coach and since I never played sports this was my first real exposure to this sorta thing.

So we make it to our next set-up and this is where things start to get real. New bunk assignments. Previously I was on the bottom, but this time I went up top. I was also on top when I went into separations and as the older brother I took the top bunk when my brother and I had them. I feel more at home in the top bunk. Everything had a place in your bunk. They wanted clothes folded a certain way and put in a certain spot. They had a map and everything, so be prepared for bunk inspections.

They also showed us (ONCE!) how to properly make a bed. Never required to do it at home and no fitted sheets for us. I'm the type that needs a few goes at bat before I'm comfortable, so you can imagine the disaster of my first attempt. When the short one looked at it I knew I fucked up because he tore the sheets off and told me to do it right and then asked me if I'm gonna be a shitbag the whole time. 90 degree creases were not my specialty I guess. I almost debated out of frustration just to sleep on top of my completed bed so I wouldn't have to keep making it. At least the first night I really mulled it over, not that it would've helped if they ripped the sheets off again. Plus you won't get better without practice. And you'll get plenty.

Now that we got all our stuff here it was time to label everything. They passed out these ink kits, which we used to mark out clothes with our name. Told us we better not make a mess and get any stains on their nice floor. Can you guess what happened? This is a Ness story, remember? I managed to avoid another yelling at luckily. So the way laundry worked is a half-assed cleaning. At least your underwear since it just went in these mesh bags and those that are on laundry duty dump the bags in as is. Nobody wants to touch anybody's dirty piss stained drawers afterall. Once they're returned what they do is have us march around the barracks. And we grab random bags from the laundry pile and as you pass that recruit's bunk you toss their shit. Don't worry, each bunk has a name on it.

Shower-time was the same way. You really only have a few minutes as there's a bunch of you circling around a few shower heads and do your best. Basically whoever is next just waits for a quick opening and hope you don't step on one of the black guy's dicks. There's a time limit so don't expect much time to lather up. Our original hygiene kit came with Speedstick and we all know that's actually worse than BO. They encouraged us to dump it and get a real deodorant.

All the stuff they "provide" like your uniform and such comes outta your pay. And once you run out you gotta replenish your supplies during the few store runs. Your pay starts the day you arrive, but you don't get around to setting up direct deposit until a little while into boot camp. I brought my information with me to MEPS the day I shipped out, but when we went to set everything up I left it in my rack so I had to make an account with Navy Federal.

I forgot to put it in my happy sock. During P-Week they set up this tube sock that we keep in our pants to hold our wallet and such. When they first brought it up I honestly thought he was talking about jerking off into it. That's what I thought when he said happy sock. Our racks did have locks, but ya know how that goes. It may also have been since we turn in our gear to get washed they didn't want anything going missing.

I'll just say it, physically I was not ready. Had I taken my original enlistment that gave me a few extra months perhaps I would've done better. I've never been in shape. I'm thin, but it's skinny fat. I last took PE in 9th or 10th grade, so it had been a solid decade of not really exercising. The PT Test is based on push ups, sit ups and a 1.5 mile. I did decent except for the run. Stamina and endurance was always an issue with me. Hell, my best mile was in 7th grade @ 7:45. Sad. Honestly though that pace would've at least given me a passing mark. Or if I was a masculine presenting transgendered lesbian who got to be tested as a female.

There are many things you are tested on and you needed a passing score to graduate. I have to assume you don't even get a shot at Battle Stations without passing everything else. Battle Stations is the boot camp final boss. What is it? It's a simulation of what Navy life is like on a boat. You're basically repeating how it all started by staying up over 24 hours and deal with everything that can go wrong as a team. I've tried to find out exactly what it entails and nobody is willing to share. They always tell me that it's not bad. Okay, I asked what it is not how hard it is. I guess they make you sign an NDA upon finishing it. Just gonna assume a fire breaks out on the ship because in one our books it looked like they showed a picture of a bunch of recruits with a firehose in the battle stations section.

Another thing you are tested on is swimming. Like the PT test it has 3 parts (well really 2). First is the ability to jump (fall) off a diving board and rise to the surface. Second is swimming a certain distance away using any method. I really consider that just 1A and 1B really. The next is a deadman's float for a certain amount of time. From what I understand this is to simulate abandon ship in the event something happens over the ocean. They told us the distance swim is to get away from debris and not get sucked into a propeller. And the float is just testing if we can stay alive long enough until we get saved.

If you pass it on the first go, boom you can cross one thing off the list. You fail or don't pass all three you can either sign up for swim training or just retake the test. No passing boot camp without this. Naturally I failed. During the diving board part they actually push you off on the count of three (really 2 LOL). I guess people hesitate last minute and try and back out and hit their head on the board or some such nonsense. Either that or they just want to keep the line moving. They have trained SEALS to rescue you. If you don't come up from the dive they'll bring you back up and make you grab a stick to get out. Don't hang onto the stick for long or you'll get yelled at. The stick is just to get you to the pool's edge. Apparently I just sunk like a stone and didn't even try.

And so began swim training. What happens is whoever didn't pass all go to the pool for remedial training in a kiddie pool. Do you know what the stereotype is with black guys and swimming? Yeah, it's true. It was basically me and 5 white dudes and a sea of black people. This is probably the only coed portion of boot camp since they didn't really segregate us here. They have swim training every day, but you won't go every day. It's at a certain time and if something more important is happening you'll just go next time. What sucks about that is if say they're doing PT and you're off to swim train, you miss out on exercise. Sounds good on paper, but if you're already behind the curve like me you're gonna fall even further.

Like all things boot camp they belittled us in swim training. One old lady told us we might as well get out because apparently all the taliban need is a squirt gun and we'll shrivel up and die. Swimming may actually be the one positive aspect of my time in basic. I learned to swim! Kinda. Initially they show us the backstroke and show us the basics, which of course is that the human body naturally floats. All you gotta do is not fight it.

I always did. There may be psychological reasons for that. Apparently I drowned as a kid. I was left with a babysitter and when my parents returned I was face down in the pool. Can't imagine her Google Reviews are too high these days. My Dad revived me and I've never wanted to learn to swim. He'd try, but getting my face wet was always an issue. I wonder if it's a reminder of that day. But the good news is you can do the backstroke and mostly avoid it. Won't help ya with the deadman float, but hey.

After 5-10 swim lessons I was feeling confident. I only went to the diving board once, the original time before the swim classes started up for the failures. A black girl in front of me froze on the diving board and received one of most intense verbal lashings I've ever seen. I got more than a few myself so it was quite the sight. Once she climbed down it was my turn. I jumped off, managed to rise on my own and then did my swim without assistance. Yes! There wasn't time to try a deadman float, but it was a moot point anyway because not long after I moved to the separations unit. If nothing else I can say I learned to swim thanks to the Navy. Haven't been to the pool since then, so who knows if I still even can.

Next time I'll discuss getting sick, calling home for the first time since the original "not dead" check-in and if I don't ramble too much on other topics... firearm training.

I'M BACK LIKE I NEVER LEFT

So it's been a little over a month since I last updated you guys. Some stuff has been happening in the world as you're probably aware. There's a virus going around, or so I hear. It's funny, this whole thread was inspired by me making a random post about never getting the flu. Back then Corona-Chan was just a faraway no-big deal thing. Now it's serious business and a lot more intense than the flu. I honestly didn't realize the flu was even as deadly as it was. Just assumed it was the common cold on steroids, so any comments about "just the flu bro" are ignorant as fuck. Looking back it kinda makes me grateful that I flunked out of basic. Had I stayed in I would've been in it for the long haul. And since my job was basically EMT/Nurse Assistant I'd be in deep shit right now. There's always a silver lining is all I'm saying.

A week before things really took a turn for the worst in our pandemic I took a week off from work to dog sit for my parents. My OCD always gets the better of me and I end up rearranging their shelves and meticulously go through the food expiration dates. In doing so I discovered my old navy letters, along with my brother's. I read one of mine (one of the last ones) and it was so cringe that I didn't have it in me to read anymore. Didn't stop me from reading a bunch of my brother's though. I mean I read them at the time when he mailed them out, but this would've been the first time I saw them after getting out myself. We had similar struggles, but how we reacted and how the navy itself did are night and day. I'll go into it more when we discuss Separations. Also found my old dog tags, which I took with me.

In basic training there are individual jobs you can volunteer for. I forget what the terms for each was and I don't feel like researching so just trust me here. We had a few guys in charge of laundry, we had a leader that announced everything, a guy in charge of education and even your boy Ness had a job. Not at first, but eventually. Like I said earlier my mile was shit. And I fell for the scam of volunteering. One of the petty officers asked if anyone needed extra PT time for the run and you could do that if you became the Seps Guy. I of course raised my hand like a brain dead retard.

What's the Seps Guy? Recruits that either quit, get kicked out(?) or simply fall behind are sent to the Separations Unit. There they either bide their time until they are discharged or fight to get back into a regular unit to try and graduate. Naturally after they're gone their laundry and mail and such still finds it's way into your unit. The Seps guy gets to mark it all up and deliver it to the loser's den. The reason they say extra PT time is you get to run there and back, so extra practice. So that was my job and I HATED it so much. During laundry sorting they always dumped a bunch of shit on my bunk so I could sort that as my Seps job. That wasn't too bad, but then I had to go bother the petty officers and get them to sign me out and all that. Every damn day. But it probably helped improve your run, right? By time I got the assignment it was too little too late. I dunno if we had a Seps guy right from the start, but if we did he probably went into Seps himself. Sounds humiliating, right? Seps guys got separated. It's more common than you think, trust me...

One thing I learned is that basic training really isn't that much different than doing time. You're on their schedule, you get three squares a day and only outside contact is through letters and a few phone calls. You're trapped until you've completed your sentence. Some try and escape. It can just be a miserable experience depending on how you react to everything. There's even thoughts of suicide. Whenever we'd line up as a unit we went up and down these staircases, through several floors. Every day. As you do that I'd often glance over the rails and wonder what would happen if I just jumped down the middle. Would I die? Would there be panic or would some asshole just comment "ah that's a shame" Seinfeld style? These thoughts just kept creeping in the back of my mind.

The best part about going somewhere was we'd come back. The barracks was almost like a safe haven in a way. Sure I knew more hell was coming but for a few minutes I was free. Five exactly. Whenever we'd come back they'd announce it was time for our "five minute pump and dump" and that was everyone's chance to piss. You could go at anytime, as they like to make fun of idiots who ask, but this was the rare time when they'd lay off us for a few minutes. Thing is there aren't enough stalls for the whole unit. Also I could never take a dump in 5 minutes. Once I sit I'm there for a while. I liked the peace, so I never bothered when I was on the clock. Course these days when I hear "pump and dump" I'm thinking of someone who hits it and quits it, but never babysits it.

The first part of basic was P-Week, then we get our uniforms and learn to march and the next phase involved bringing all the units together to make things official. We watched a video that was capped off with a montage featuring Styx's Come Sail Away. A little too on the nose there. I like Styx, but I'm forever triggered by that song. It's a good song, but now I can't enjoy. Not really. When I hear it on the radio it's like the song is taunting me. Hey I know you've moved on with your life and you're doing okay, yeah? Got your own place. Decent job and no longer dependent on the parents. But remember how you based your whole life around enlisting in the military? And how that was gonna be your identity... and then finally did it and failed like the loser that you are? You remember hugging your parents good-bye and that was probably the last time they were genuinely proud of you? Just thought I'd remind you.

As part of that presentation they took us into a large classroom to talk about the GI Bill. "Free" College, right? I have no idea how people study while working 50 hour weeks. Yes there was online college even then, but I'm too exhausted from work to even think about doing it. You could kinda game the system if you did it after getting out. You're given a lump sum per credit or some other value and if you made sure to spend less on school you'd actually make a profit in a way. Knowing what I know now... yeah I'd rather just pay for the credits.

Sundays are a holy day. They mark the only "off days" we have. I put that in quotes because it's not like we get the whole day free. But you are given a few hours to do as you please. You could relax if you were ballsy. A lot of people used that time to study or get their uniforms set up. You could also attend church service. This was actually pushed as a way of getting away from the petty officers for a bit. If you stayed in the barracks doing whatever they were still walking around mean mugging us. A lot went to whatever services they offered just to escape.

Another thing you could do was write letters. Other than in your bunk during light's out this was one of the few times we had a chance to write home. They had a mailbox to drop off your letters, but it's not like it was emptied every day. It's hard to have ongoing communication in basic because by time they'd written and responded a whole fresh hell has emerged that nothing is current. Still with no outside contact it really was a lifeline, well unless you got one of those "I'm seeing Jody now" letters. There's also the phone call. I honestly didn't think I'd miss home that much. Always been a loner and never felt like I was that close to my family. Yet time away and I cried like a bitch for my initial phone call. Think in my time I only got to do it 2-3 more times, so you have to cherish it.

Because the freedom does not last long. Remember in an earlier post how I wanted to be a gate guard and let people inside? Yeah, got a slight taste of that called the watch. Someone had to stand watch in the barracks at all times. There was a rotating schedule and once your shift was up, the next guy relieved ya. It was mostly just a formality as the various petty officers usually just told you to fuck off whenever you'd salute and "let" them in. There was also the log book that you were to keep track of the coming and goings of the unit. During the night shift there was actually two of you assigned. One standing near the door as usual and another sitting down towards the back. Periodically during your shift you had to walk around the unit and inspect things to make sure nothing is off. The guy who was up front did that and the guy in the back watches the door during that.

As you can probably guess having to wake the next guy up was always a damn hassle. During one of my night runs of course the dude didn't wanna get up. And not only that the asshole tried to lie to me and claim he already did it. I've got the list you piece of shit. Eventually he got up. I think one guy outright refused and got yelled at the next day. I dunno if anything happened for punishment, but if nothing did the yelling might be worth the trade off to stay in bed.

This of course wouldn't be a Ness story without shit hitting the fan. Never liked being up there just because my nerves couldn't handle it. Every time I'd salute they'd always make fun of me and it got to the point that I couldn't see the reason to even try. But obviously I had to. One thing that always got me was I too scared and nervous to slow everything down. I wanted to do everything quick so I didn't fall behind. With the log book they wanted us to take our time to do it right. They were getting frustrated with us for not filling it out correctly. After a while their complaint was at this point they shouldn't have to hold our hands, think for yourself.

Because of course it happened, a dude starts having a heart attack during my final turn at watch. So they got legit EMTs from the city coming in to try and save this dude. I'm panicking and trying my best to fill in the log book to account for a goddamned ambulance visit. The petty officers blow up at me because they didn't tell me to write anything when just before they were getting mad at us for waiting around for them to tell us what to do. WHICH IS IT? Only during my turn does a freak accident have to happen. Once that was settled (he lived) the tall one (he really didn't like me LMAO) turned to the guy who was "next" and asked him if he could do better than this piece of shit (Ness) and ha naturally said yes. I know that's the only correct answer, but when you're in that situation all I could process was the dude agreeing. Yes Ness is in fact a piece of shit.

Needless to say I never got watch duty ever again. There's more to come trust me. Guns, dust mops and Pneumonia!

WHAT ELSE COULD GO WRONG?

The best part about basic training (and likely jail too) is the three squares a day. Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Every single day. No exceptions. The only time you miss out on the meal is if you're doing watch and even then they send you solo after your shift is up. This was a big adjustment for me because I rarely ate breakfast growing up. Don't get me wrong I love breakfast. I'm on Team French Toast. If I go to a sit-down and they have a breakfast menu, 99% I'm ordering it. But never at breakfast at time. I've just never been the kind of person who wakes up and eats a meal before heading out the door. I always skip it.

Now it's the best part of the day. We get up, get our uniforms on and it's out to the "chow hall" if you will. It's not a relaxing experience the whole way through though. I'll discuss it more in a bit, but waiting in the line we are to have our noses in our books for study time. While we eat, same thing. And as we're waiting in line they would quiz us. Yeah, there's no letting our guard down until we get our trays. As far as the food, it's just your standard cafeteria fare.

I'm not sure if this theory is legit, but rumor has it they do something to the eggs. I didn't get a boner the whole time I was there. Yeah you could say there's no porn or hot women to stare at, but not even morning wood. I think they put something in the eggs to suppress our libidos. Whenever those fluffy yellow clouds were on the menu I snagged em up. Not saying they have boner kill powder in the mix, but it makes sense to me.



There is absolutely no talking during your meal. At all. The only time that was an issue was a guy in Seps could not stop laughing. More on Fuck Face when we get to that section. I ate a lot of Honey Nut Cheerios during my time. Not one of my favorite cereals as we read about in the countdown, but you make due with what you got.

Another struggle was giving up soda for 6 weeks. I've been on and off the stuff my whole life. Some people struggle with drugs, others women... my vice has always been sugar. I've given in the towel at this point and have accepted an early diabetes related death. The only chance we had for soda was during lunch and they had Sprite Zero. Once I got to the Seps unit and accepted my fate I indulged, but otherwise I stuck with water.

They really wanted us to drink water. As part of our gear we had a canteen that they wanted us to drink throughout the day. They expected us to drink 8 full ones a day. In the restroom they had a chart on what our piss was supposed to look like if we were properly hydrated, essentially clear. I dunno if it was the soda or just not proper hydration, but my piss before basic was always classic yellow. I never managed to drink 8 in a day. If I really pushed it probably 3. In order to accomplish this you really have to be on the ball. Sitting in class and you haven't opened your canteen since the powerpoint started? Better start sipping motherfucker.

One thing I really hated was the anxiety attack I started having whenever it was time to march out of the mess hall. So it's the Navy and there's this thing with starboard and port sides. What would happen is those in charge would stand and announce one of those sides and we'd all take our trays and line up. I still don't know the difference! So I cheated and just waited for everyone else to stand up. If I got the electric chair for not knowing which is which, I would've just plugged it in myself.

This is the armed forces, right? Naturally you'd think they'd eventually arm us. I know what you're thinking, torpedos and harpoon guns? During my time we only used standard handguns. I don't know if they did real training on a shooting range after I got out, but for the first half of basic we never fired a shot. Instead we just learned the basics of the weapon, loading and ejecting the round. Like everything we lined up and did it all piece by piece. As you'd expect I fucked something up. One thing they had us learn to do was load the gun and release the round and pass it to the guy behind us. Simple right?

Clink.

WHO DROPPED IT?

It's always Ness. Always. Part of the watch shift change involved signing over the weapon to the next guy. Other than that we didn't do much with the guns. I expected a full-on Forrest Gump scene with taking it apart and all that, but I guess that's more of an army thing. I've only ever touched a gun once since basic training. Guns have just never been part of my life as unAmerican as that sounds. We weren't a hunting/camper family and never felt the need to have one for self defense so I just never saw the need.

PT (physical training) was a daily thing. We did it regularly and it was used as punishment for us. One of the worst was making us squat with our arms held out like we're holding a newspaper. It was funny when the petty officers turned one direction everyone that was facing their back stood up for relief before going back down. It's like when you see a cop on the highway, everyone just instinctively hits the brakes. They had to know we were doing it. Our PT uniforms consisted of a yellow shirt and gray/purple sweats that shedded like crazy. They had people in the stairwells just to sweep up the dust. When we went to the gym to exercise they also had us do the same with a dustmop. For whatever reason when I was given the mop I casually walked around as I dusted. They got mad (of course) and told me to double time it (run). Little did I know that was likely to be my future as I'm pushing a dustmop for a living to this day.

Was still somewhat struggling with fitness, but then I started to miss the daily training because I was becoming ill. One thing they let us know from the very beginning is everyone is bound to get sick at some point. You're around a bunch of people from all over the world in close quarters, it is inevitable. First thing to happen to me was I got pink eye. Not sure how that happened. Pre-corona I was always an eye wiper, but never got it at home. Perhaps someone shit on my pillowcase. I dunno.

When you get sick they give you a chit (pass) and it allows you to skip out on things by remaining in bed. It's not a free ride because you still have to pass everything eventually, so much like not going to school it's just gonna hurt you the more you slack off. During one laundry run (marching to pass it out) I had to sit on the floor by my bunk. One of my fellow recruits got cocky and thought I was just fucking off and asked me why I'm not in line. I had to smugly let him know I had pinkeye, did you really want me to touch your laundry?

Eventually that went away, but then I got sick again. I almost never got sick at home, but I also was never around a bunch of people before. I didn't work before basic and did online college, so I was really only around my immediate family and such. They gave me some Mucinex, which cleared my stuffy nose really well because snot was flowing like the Salmon of Capistrano.

Didn't end there though. I developed a pretty bad cough. Nonstop for weeks. Just the hacking kind that never went away. I had sharp intense pain in my sides too. I honestly thought I broke a rib and that the point of the bone was poking into my lungs, it hurt that bad. Eventually I had to go see a doctor. One thing the doctor asked me during The X-Ray Show was when was the last time I had a bowel movement? Maybe the eggs constipated me as well as killed my erections? I don't think I had pooped since P-Week. In case you wanted to know! Turns out I had either bronchitis or pneumonia. I'm not sure how it happened, but I think the back and forth swim training did it. Before class they made us rinse off and sit on the bleachers. It's the only thing that comes to mind.

Because of my constant medical issues I was falling behind in PT, not that I was even excelling in the first place. It's not the end of the world if you do because they have remedial classes. If the rest of your class has moved on they will merely put you in another unit that is at that level. Still I think that third round of being sick really killed my low morale. I usually use it as THE excuse as to why I failed. It was one of the reasons sure, but not the main factor. They liked to tell us to just get through basic and everything else is easy. But I was done at this point. My letters home were very depressing and I just wasn't motivated to continue. If I wasn't done yet I could definitely see the finish line from where I was standing. It would take one more embarrassing fuck up for me to call it quits, which I'll discuss in my final entry about basic training. I already have another set of chapters planned for my next set of stories if you are enjoying everything so far. But as far as my military career goes it's time to put it to rest.

The content I need! Hate to be fascinated at your expense, Ness. I swear you're me on the alternate timeline had I taken a left after high school instead of a right.

THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE

Basic training was supposed to last 8 weeks and I was in for 6. I only count 4 of that as actual boot camp though. So I got about half-way through. Who knows if the "real" stuff happened yet, but it's something you just cannot prepare for. You can watch videos, read articles and testimonials, pick the brains of those that have graduated (they'll just say it wasn't that bad) but until you've done it yourself you have zero idea how you'll react. Before I arrived if I heard of someone quitting or failing I would've mocked them. Having been there myself my reaction is now, ehh I'm sure they had their reasons.

Before I reached the point of no return I heard that a group of guys actually tried to escape. I assume they got up in the middle of the night and just bailed. Did they sneak past the watch or did the watch simply inform whoever that hey... dudes just bounced. They were found off the grounds and arrested. Or maybe the police just brought them back. They got sent to the Separations Unit. You obviously are not in your right mind if you try that, but thinking logically you have to wonder what the gameplan was. It's not like you can just walk away from that and just start your life back again. That's considered AWOL and I'm sure even at that point could result in court martial. Maybe I'm thinking too deep. They probably told us what the deal was earlier on, but I wasn't paying too much attention.

Let's go back a little to when I got sick. I dunno what's worse pneumonia or bronchitis, but I always go with pneumonia (when telling the story) just because it sounds way worse. When I finally saw the doctor he sent me to go get my X-Rays as I've mentioned. I forgot to bring up that he yelled at me. Sensing a pattern at this point? See I had assumed the hospital aspect of boot camp was separate from the rest and didn't expect everything to follow the rest of the rules, sort of a safe haven. Nope! So he told me to come back after I got those hawt pix and he wasn't in his office. So I went inside and started studying like a good boy. He came back and went off on me. Apparently you're supposed to wait outside the office on the chairs and form a line. Obviously being the only dude there I wouldn't think to do that. And as I'm waiting for him to summon me back in a line forms behind me. I'm always being used as a sacrificial lamb!

Nothing much to discuss about the meeting. It's where he asked about my bowel movement and gave me some medication and a chit to get out of stuff as I recovered. The chit you keep on you at all times and... I think we all know where this is going. I'm at my bunk getting dressed one morning and I'm making sure everything is in order and you know what I don't find... my chit. I thought it was still in my pants and I start going through the community pile to try and find them and hopefully it. Could not for the life of me find them. Everyone's staring and no pants say "Ness" no matter how many times I look. Could've been in another batch (may already been in the wash) or could've fallen out of my pocket in the bin or even somewhere on base. Either way I was fucked.

Petty Officers just rolled their eyes and told me I'd have to go back and get a replacement, but for now we're going for breakfast. Ate my meal and I just kept thinking about getting yelled at by the doctor again for losing my chit and how miserable I was and how I wasn't adapting like I had hoped. I was done, checked out. I didn't pay too much attention to other recruits. I'm like that in real life too. I don't really notice stuff outside my bubble. I didn't think about others leaving, but what they told us from the start: if you don't wanna be here, you can go. So I marched into the office (fish bowl as they called it) and told them I wanted out and let's stop wasting each other's time. It was probably the only time I actually felt confident and sure of myself since getting off the plane.

Surprisingly they didn't try and talk me out of it. My mind was made up, but fuck it would've been nice to hear a half-assed pitch. That killed my already low self-esteem. I've mentioned my brother and how he enlisted and while he struggled too it was different. I think he ended up being in boot camp for 12-16 weeks due to remedial classes and such. I read his letters and he wanted out bad. He was begging my parents to rescue him and asking them to contact the recruiter. Eventually it turned around for him and I believe a lot of that had to do with them not giving up on him. Not the case with me. When they shrugged their shoulders they basically said fuck this guy. Just as well because that's how the rest of the story has felt like.

I guess you gotta plead your case to a psychiatrist and the senior petty officer told me to tell them that I missed my Mom. That's all it takes? Apparently there's more to it than simply saying you want out. That sounded really gay and didn't want to go up to another person and say I missed my Mommy so I took the better option and threatened suicide. When I went to the front desk I told them I was thinking about hurting myself. They told me to take a seat and set up an appointment with a therapist. During the session I explained I wanted out, it wasn't working and to cement everything I said I was contemplating suicide. I mentioned the staircase thing and also tossed in a self-harm thought about the backpack. See the backpack has a belt part that you connect around your waist. It takes getting used to and a few times I've pinched my hand with the connector piece. Told him that I was doing that constantly just to feel pain. Not true, but it added to the trauma.

We discussed a bunch of things regarding depression. I may go into more detail in my next set of stories since it deals with the subject, but trust when I say I opened up a lot to this dude and while I was "faking" everything to get out I have no doubt a good bit of truth trickled out as well. He was really easy to talk to although it was one of those conversations where he just listened and steered me in certain directions. Change of pace to every other experience I had in boot camp. I think he said he would recommend granting separations for me. Went back to report the news to the petty officers. Think it was decided that I'd pack up my stuff and head out when the rest of the unit went to eat or wherever they headed to at the end of the day. I'll never forget that a little before that my bunk mate commented to me (he didn't know) that a lot of people on our side of the barracks had relocated or quit since we started. But luckily he still had me...

So the time had come for me to say good-bye to my unit, well not really seeing as most were no longer in the barracks. I packed up my stuff and the tall one marched me down to Seps. So they processed me and I got assigned a bunk. One big difference between Seps and the main boot camp is the fact that you can finally relax. They had chairs and even TVs and VCRs (yeah no DVDs) for us to occupy our time. There were books and I read a paperback of some newspaper comic... probably Beetle Bailey, which seems in poor taste. And color me shocked I actually saw someone from Unit 222!

It was the nerdy education guy, the one who was overseeing our study lessons. What the hell? This guy was on easy streak with a Nuke job. Easy six figures, sign on bonuses and if he went on the private sector even better. He told me he was suffering through depression and that's why he got out. I poked his brain about how the petty officers reacted and he told me they tried to convince him to stay. Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me! I asked him what his plans were once we escaped and he told me first order of business was to and I quote "fuck the shit out of my girlfriend". Hmmm, I guess he's assuming Jody hasn't already planted a flag somewhere.

Like I said Seps was different. A lot of sitting around and waiting. My time lasted 2 weeks and it felt like years just out of boredom. The lockdown we're dealing with has people going crazy, but that's with full access to the internet and such. You have zero idea what it's like to go stir crazy. I think half of my letters home were written during Seps just because I was so bored. This was the last time I watched Dumb and Dumber, still holds up to this day. Other than leaving for appointments and our meals we just stayed put. It's still boot camp though, so we're still required to get up on time in our uniforms and such. At least once during my 2 weeks they did a rack inspection. Don't think I mentioned it before. Each rack had to look a certain way. The sheets folded, pillow on this side, underneath clothes in a certain order. They even gave us a "map" at the beginning to show what they expected. I guess once people got to Seps they didn't give a shit because a lot of people got yelled at. So they tore everyone's apart that weren't right and made them redo them. Except for me as mine was correct.

"This is a squared away rack!"

Ain't that a bitch? I finally get something positive said in my direction when I got one foot out the door. Not everyone is there to leave though as I later learned. Saw a dude who was still in PT gear, which meant he didn't make it past P-Week in order to get a uniform. Not sure why he was here as he said he wanted to go back. Perhaps he failed something or a medical issue popped up and he was hoping to resolve it in Seps. One thing I will say is that one look at the Seps unit and you could easily tell why most were here... we weren't exactly gonna be mistaken for SEALS. I mentioned Fuckface in a previous post, so let's talk about him. This was a goofy son of a bitch. The reason I say Fuckface is that's what everyone called him. During roll call, everything. He was already there so he must've established a rep. And he kinda fucked us over. The petty officers that oversee Seps were a lot more laid back and one allowed us to sit out in the grass for a while to get fresh air and exercise.

That was nice of him, right? Yeah, so how do we repay him? Well, Fuckface thought it would be a good idea to draw a dick inside of his cover (hat). No idea how he got a hold of it or what, but yeah that happened. He wouldn't admit it, but everyone blamed him and he was part of my return flight home and said yeah it was him. No shit, dude. So yeah we got fucked because of that. No longer could we sit on the couches, nope indian style on the hard floor or standing. And kiss those outdoor scenery walks good-bye. And dude was always cracking up during lunch. Ya know, when we're supposed to be dead silent. And seeing that almost makes you wanna laugh too. Thanks Fuckface!

So you'd think if you want out that it would be easy to do. Just sign a paper and get on a flight, right? If I'm remembering right they only released you on Tuesdays (or whatever day) and only a select group. At the start of the week they'd make an announcement so you can prepare. First week I expected nothing and my wish was granted. I was bored and restless, just ready to go home and move on. They actually had an arcade they took us to once a week. Had cabinets and a few internet computers, which mostly had people just checking facebook. A visiting female petty officer was pissed when she saw that and told us we should be applying for jobs instead of looking at women.

Week two comes around and I hope to hear my name, nope, nothing. I wasn't trying to get back in, I didn't owe them anything so I just assumed it was a seniority thing. I did just get here, so I had to wait my turn. The two recruits in charge seemed to take everything more seriously than even my old petty officers. Didn't make much sense to me, but can't deny the short one (guess they have to have a tall and short dude in charge of everything) used a phrase that has stuck with me ever since. Voluntold. He liked saying that and used it every day. Now it's part of my vocabulary. Ness why are you working Saturday? Well, I was kinda voluntold. Been working 6 day weeks for 2 years yet people still are surprised when they see me at work. Dude I fucking live here.

So Tuesday rolls around and guess what... they ask me why I'm not packed. What? You didn't say my name during the announcements. Apparently I was part of the next wave. So I half-assed shoved everything that was worth taking with me and was ready to go. Should stress that I was in contact with my family once I was in Seps. At that point there's more access to phones, so they knew I'd be coming home soon they just didn't know when. They took us into a classroom as an admin person went over everything. Signed papers and issued us our DD214, notice of discharge. He made it seem like this would be the most important sheet of paper in our lives. For military people it probably is. He went as far as to say never give the original to anyone that needs it, make a copy so you always have it. I'm not sure what purpose it serves for someone who doesn't graduate boot camp as it's not like I'm eligible for VA benefits.

One thing they do before you leave is take your dignity. When you arrive in Seps they actually remove your "recruit" patch from your uniform. Lets everyone know you're a loser. And when you leave Seps they take the uniform back. That uniform you paid for should be yours, but since you haven't passed you don't have the "right" to wear. I guess it would be stolen valor? When you leave boot camp they let you leave in your PT gear. I actually thought I was better than the guy in Seps that was in PT gear because, hey, at least I made it farther than him. Now I am him.

So they drive us off to the airport and this is probably the worst moment in my boot camp story. As we're getting checked-in with the usual airport bullshit the TSA agent said the title of this post to me (and others I'm sure). Thank you? I guess she saw we were wearing gear that had the Navy logo on it. That just killed me. It was likely a nothing comment they make 100x a day with the training camp nearby, but deep down I couldn't shake the feeling they knew I was a failure and were rubbing it in. Didn't help that someone was flying out in a legit uniform around the same time.

My flight was a small one. It wasn't a standard sized plane. So small that I didn't even have to worry about armrest drama because my seat was by itself. I got a Sprite though, so I guess the 6 weeks was worth it just for that. Plane arrives home and now I gotta find a way to call the house. I didn't bring a cell phone to boot camp and even if I did it would've been mailed back home. They had us purchase calling cards to call home from boot camp and I'm not even sure if calling collect was still a thing here (2012) as I wandered the airport for like an hour searching for a working payphone. There were hardly any actual payphones and the I ones I found didn't work. Eventually a security guy noticed I was wandering around and allowed me to use his phone. So if you think payphones are obsolete since everyone has their own phones these days... you've obviously never been honorably discharged from boot camp!

Mom picks me up at the airport not long after that. I tossed my bag on my sister's blanket and proceeded to give it the Ric Flair elbow drop for good measure to finish my boot camp experience. Usually when people ask about my "enlistment" I just downplay it and tell them oh, it was a short one. I don't consider myself a veteran whether officially or not. Sometimes my brother and dad will want me to go with them on Veteran's Day Begging runs, ya know where restaurants give free meals. I remember going to one with them and a few others. Everyone got pancakes except I went with French Toast. I thought it was interesting as all the actual ones who served got pancakes. Do you think the waitress know they gave me free food for no reason?!?

That was July 2012, almost 8 years ago. Around this time I likely would've signed my second contract to extend my time and be 1/2 way to the coveted 20. Sometimes I wonder if things would be different had I gone in just after high school or would things have gone down the same route? Maybe I wouldn't have gotten sick since the Air Force doesn't have swimming lessons. Just how it turned out for me. Do I resent the military based on my experience? Yes and no. Am I depressed over it? I've mostly gotten over it and just kind of laugh at the events these days. After getting out I started working full-time two months later and have been ever since with the exception of a two months "break" in between jobs. I'm in a decent spot these days and I hope nothing really fucks that up going forward.

So that's the story of my time in boot camp. I'm sure I left a lot out, but most of the "big moments" that I have in my memories were covered. I mainly had bullet points and I think I touched base on everything important. "Ness Life" may not be over though as I have plans for more stories. We shall see.

No shame Ness. Easy for me and others to say, I know. But you were braver and made it further than I ever was or ever did. I appreciate you giving it a go, and really appreciate you sharing your experience with us.

MOSTLY FILLER REALLY

I wasn't going to discuss this topic yet, but rather than continuing to double-post in the Job Thread and with the news of how this ship is faring I think it's as good of a time as any. So I've mentioned numerous times that I work for the Post Office. This next section I'm going to talk about is how I got here, my current role/career and fun little stories regarding my experience working here. So while my goal was always to enlist a distant secondary goal was always to become a mailman. In a similar way I saw it as "easy" way of life. Sensing a pattern?

The mail will never go anywhere and you just drive around and put things in boxes and make like 6 figures, right? You'd be surprised how many people think that way. I know I did. Doesn't help that there are deceptive scam sites that advertise test guides and claim the starting wage is 80k Luke Harper level. It can be if you're pulling in crazy overtime and you're high on the pay scale. I wish I could say that when I failed at the Navy thing that I went straight to delivering mail, but I had a job in between these chapters in my life. I plan to document the other job as well in it's own separate section of stories.

So I first gave consideration to this as a career in 10th grade. It was one of those filler home ec classes and we had to do a speech on a future career. I chose the post office. I don't remember what I said, but I do remember some snarky cunt asked me if I thought I'd ever go postal. First of all... what the fuck? Second... how is somebody supposed to answer that question? Yes, I fully plan on committing a mass shooting. Hello FBI? It does puzzle me why I never went through with that right out of high school. But had I done that I may not be where I am today. Being a carrier is NOT easy. On paper it seems that way, but the turnover rate is so high that my odds of passing basic were a lot better than making a career. Waiting till I did allowed me to tuck away in a decent spot. Remains to be seen if that will last me until retirement. In all honestly I probably didn't think about the USPS the moment I sat down from the speech until a few years into floundering in college.

I recall applying sometime in 2007. As I discussed in the Navy section I was just going through the motions with school. So I applied online and I had an exam set up. I dunno if it was just the area or if they overhauled the way they did it when I applied a second time in 2015, but the two were completely different. I get a confirmation for the exam and had to show up at the local community college. May even have been a university. There was a huge group and I'm talking about 100. They pulled us into one of those classic giant-sized lecture halls for the SCAN TRON test. Yes with no. 2 pencils and all.

Thing with these exams is they take the highest scores and interview them and go from there. Veterans are a big component for the postal service and that's likely because they get a 10 point handicap added to their scores. So if I score 9 points higher than solider boy... guess who gets the call first? Couldn't tell you what my score was, but needless to say I never got a call back following the exam. So I just went back to studying, boot camp, came home and worked my first "big boy" job for about 3 years before quitting and applying all over the place until trying the post office again. This time it seemed to work, which we'll discuss that and more in the next few updates. Stay tuned.

May 8, 2020 0:45:11 GMT Ness said:

a distant secondary goal was always to become a mailman. In a similar way I saw it as "easy" way of life. Sensing a pattern?

The mail will never go anywhere and you just drive around and put things in boxes and make like 6 figures, right? You'd be surprised how many people think that way. I know I did.  Being a carrier is NOT easy. On paper it seems that way, 

I recall applying sometime in 2007.  There was a huge group and I'm talking about 100. They pulled us into one of those classic giant-sized lecture halls for the SCAN TRON test. Yes with no. 2 pencils and all.

Can confirm all this.

Only one question.....are scan tron tests with #2 pencils generally not a thing anymore?

May 8, 2020 1:09:00 GMT Baker said:

May 8, 2020 0:45:11 GMT Ness said:

a distant secondary goal was always to become a mailman. In a similar way I saw it as "easy" way of life. Sensing a pattern?

The mail will never go anywhere and you just drive around and put things in boxes and make like 6 figures, right? You'd be surprised how many people think that way. I know I did.  Being a carrier is NOT easy. On paper it seems that way, 

I recall applying sometime in 2007.  There was a huge group and I'm talking about 100. They pulled us into one of those classic giant-sized lecture halls for the SCAN TRON test. Yes with no. 2 pencils and all.

Can confirm all this.

Only one question.....are scan tron tests with #2 pencils generally not a thing anymore?

This I wonder. When I took the exam the second time it was completely on a computer.