- H. H. Williams
Friends and Family,
Another episode of my continuing adventures….
Complete disaster.
That’s the simplest way to describe what I saw when I came down the stairs this morning at about 1100.
Beer bottles everywhere in various states of fullness. Trash everywhere. The floor looked like we had a mud fight (the liquid was provided by, you guessed it, “tea”).
Full ashtrays, cups, cans, glasses, you name it, it was strewn.
And it smelled of cigarettes and stale tea. Mmmmmmmmm…..
I had mixed emotions about this. On the one hand, it was obvious everyone had a great time. On the other hand, I am too much of a neat freak not to think “WTF!!!! LOOK AT MY HOUSE! GOOD GOD, THIS IS COMPLETELY UNSAT!!!”
But it wasn’t my house. Not completely. Not yet.
My first thought was to let Roomie get his ass up and clean this up. That lasted about 2 picoseconds before I started grabbing bottles, washing them out (they have to sit here until I can return them back to the Consulate so I wash them out. No just throwing them out in the trash, the Saudis would have a conniption), and cleaning up the trash.
The floor was sticky. STICKY!
I was almost finished cleaning up when Roomie came down and saw I had done most of the work. I was not mad, hell, it’s his goodbye party and yes, they drank through just about all of my month’s ration of tea (along with Roomie’s) and yes, they trashed the place like a bunch of frat pukes but boys will be boys. I can live with it.
Once.
But rest assured not another cigarette will be smoked in this villa so if they want to party, I will provide tea at another location and they can trash someone else’s villa.
Roomie grabbed the trash and said he would finish up which consisted of only the floors. He would spend most of the day applying layer after layer of mop water to the sticky floors in a vain attempt to get it clean.
But I got a feeling that the cigarette and beer smell will take awhile to fix. It’s so hot here, it’s not like you can leave the windows and doors open lest you want to fricassee the entire villa.
You would assume that I would skip the nap today since I slept like 9 hours of sleep, right?
Hmmmm, well, no.
After cleaning the house, showering, and getting into clean clothes, I ate a couple pieces of pizza from last night and I was on my way to my room to do some reading and thinking.
I did actually get some reading in but I succumbed to my napping tendencies for about an hour. The guest room I am staying in has a thin white veil on the window which, along with the pin-drop quietness, brought strong reminders of spending summers in my hometown with my Grandmother. I was taken back there and it made me miss her today.
Tonight was Roomie’s real massalama (last night was just an excuse to play poker, get drunk, and trash my villa) where just about everyone in the compound showed up at the “49er Club” which is where the main offices are and where they have room for general debauchery.
I wandered over at about 8:00 PM and the only people I really knew were some of the Brits I met yesterday at the poker game. So I kind of hung out feeling a little self-conscious and made small talk with a few people.
I decided to start slow and order a 7-Up (I was still feeling last night’s spirits and I had enjoyed very few soft drinks since I arrived).
The bar was headed up by “volunteers” from the unit and the guy looked at me when I ordered and he said “100 SAR.”
What he meant was the cover for non-members but due to the fact that I was part of the Det, I was automatically a member without paying.
I thought he was kidding and just stared at him.
He stared back.
He repeated it and I said “For what?!”
I was really confused at this point and may have come across a little strong because I couldn’t figure out if he was testing me or if he was serious.
“For the peanuts, the chips, the band, the pizza, etc.”
“Your kidding, right?”
He shook his head no and I walked off to find the Navy Commander in charge of the Det. When I asked him if I had to pay, he asked who the hell was trying to make me pay. He is a huge, HUGE guy and brought me over to the bar.
“Did you try to charge the new Marine Major?”
The color drained out of the Air Force Tech Sergeant’s face.
After several apologies and reassurances that he had not recognized me, I got my 7-Up most rikki-tik.
Meanwhile, the Det Commander couldn’t stop laughing about all this. He thought the whole situation was absolutely hilarious and laughed every time he saw me for the rest of the night.
A little later, I was out in the courtyard talking, feeling a lot better as I met more and more people, when I started to get a tingling on the back of my neck. My peripheral vision caught something red and when I turned to look out in the street, I saw a bunch of Saudis around a bunch of big vehicles. I could tell they were Saudis because they were wearing the white robes and red-checkered headdresses.
What the hell were Saudis doing in the Western Compound?
At the same time, I heard what could have been either fireworks or small arms fire.
I looked around and everyone seemed to be oblivious, enjoying the loud music, and carrying on their conversations.
I set down my tea and walked out to the street where there was another guy from the Det.
“What the hell is going on?”’
“No problem, just go back in.”
I went to find the Det Commander (Tiny) and told him what I saw. He came out and after talking to a few people, he told me that the United States Ambassador for Saudi Arabia had arrived.
“Whaaaaaa?”
Yes, the Ambassador showed up with his security detail and was drinking the putrid, rancid sangria that spent the night at my villa last night. It was basically a cup of rotting fruit, 8 weeks in the making. Blea!
You have to understand, this is just a small little place with less than a dozen US military personnel so how he found out about tonight’s shindig and why he decided to come see us is beyond me.
But he did.
And since I had consumed a few teas and had no idea just how important an Ambassador is, I got in a conversation with him like he was Joe Schmoo. It must have confused him that this Marine Major was not kissing his butt but I really didn’t see the need and found it amusing, later, when I found out he’s like way up there in importance. In fact, he’s the President’s buddy and personal appointee.
I asked him about the job (“What do you actually DO?”), his family, etc. I think he either knew I didn’t fully understand his overall importance or realized I really didn’t care.
So if I get some orders to Antarctica next, you know what happened.
Two more assbaggery moments happened so hang in there, you’ll love them:
1. At one point when I went back to the bar to get some more tea, a different guy looked at me and said “you may get your drinks for free but you’ll have to do your time behind the bar.”
He had obviously heard about the earlier incident but I had no idea who he was.
I just stared at him the same way I stared at the other guy, wondering if this was another test. He read my look and said “No, serious, you’ll have to do some of the bartending.”
I continued to stare at him non-committally.
I grabbed my tea and walked away without a word.
When I asked someone who that guy was, they told me he was the other Navy Commander, one rank higher than me.
Oops.
You see, the guy before me refused to serve tea at these things because he didn’t want it to come back on him that he provided it to someone outside the Det if they should get in some trouble over it. He also forbid his Captain to do it so now it became “a Marine thing” to set the tone that we don’t serve the tea.
I think it was that Commander’s way of getting Nick the New Guy to commit where the former Major wouldn’t play.
I didn’t end up getting behind the bar all night and not only did he not push the issue, he actually served my next couple of beers.
Later, I saw a few of the new arrivals from the other Forces working the bar.
Gotta love Marines.
2. When it came time to do the actual hail and farewell, they stopped the party and the Det Commander grabbed the mic and read the bios of the new arrivals. After he was done with each, he had each give their first impressions in five words or less.
When it got to me, I stood there rather self-consciously while he read my information. When they identified me as a Marine, the whole crowd erupted in yells of “Ooh-rah” and general shouts. No one else got that reaction.
Everyone always seems impressed when they find out I’ve served for 21 years, I’ve been married for 20, and I have a 16-year-old and a 14-year-old. It also happens to be what I’m most proud of and I’m glad he read it publicly.
When it came time for my five words, he handed me the mic and I put up a finger for every word I was saying.
You.
Fu##ers.
Drink.
A.
Lot.
The crowd exploded.
To include the Ambassador.
I think I just cemented my reputation here.
FML for Today: “Today, my brother decided to prank-call me pretending to be my boyfriend and break up with me. I cried for two hours before getting up the courage to talk to the man I thought dumped me. When I got there, I knocked on the door and he said, 'We need to talk.' I had to go through getting dumped by him a second time. FML.”
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