My dad is serving his time in the army. One time, they had to participate in a large exercise with multiple units. When all was said and done, they had to pack the material and return it to storage.

There was a checklist available, but this was mostly in code, i.e. number and letter combinations instead of an actual name/description. There was one item they had no clue what it was, so they put a remark next to it “lost in the long grass.”

They would have gotten away with it, were it not a giant radar installation… which was both difficult to oversee and accounted for.

Related:
A Lack Of Military Intelligence, Part 3
A Lack Of Military Intelligence, Part 2
A Lack Of Military Intelligence

I was a woman in the military — not only that, but I was a welder, working with mechanics. I picked up a few things I didn’t already know and was qualified to operate the heavy machinery.

Our BN XO [Battalion Executive Officer] drove by while I was operating said machinery, and screamed at us to stop.

BN XO: “Stop! That girl is illegally operating this equipment!”

I was working with the guy who trains everyone in the battalion on operating that equipment. But clearly, I was doing it illegally.

I’m a server working on a busy Friday night when I get a family of three: a dad, a mom, and a guy who we can plainly see is in the military. He looks young and is very flirtatious.

Me: “Hello and welcome! I’ll be taking care of you.”

Son: “Thank God we got a hot one.”

Me: “Ha. Okay. What can I get you to drink?”

Mom & Dad: “Water, please.”

Son: “I’ll take a peach margarita.”

Me: “What kind of tequila?”

Son: *Starts to smile* “Which do you prefer?”

Me: “Don Julio is top shelf here.”

Son: “Great. I’ll take that.”

Me: “Okay. Can I see your ID, please?”

Son: “I’m not sure if I have it. I just got home from the military and I’m looking for a good drink and good company.” *Winks*

Me: “Okay, but I can’t serve you unless you have ID.”

Son: “All I have is my military ID on me. I don’t know if it has my birthdate on it, though.”

As a bartender as well, I know it does.

Me: “That’s fine. I’ll just look at it quickly.”

The son smiles really big and winks again.

Son: “Okay… here you go.”

I take the ID and flip it over to see his birthdate.

Me: “Wait… you aren’t twenty-one. You just turned nineteen.”

The son loses his smile and takes back his ID.

Dad: “I’ll take the peach margarita.”

Me: “Sorry, but I can’t serve a drink he ordered to you.”

Dad: “But he’s in the military, for Christ’s sake!”

In my head, I’m thinking he just got out of boot camp. At this point, I’m pretty pissed at all the time they’ve wasted. I’ve been sat again, and I know I’m not going to get a tip from this family.

Me: “Sir… I don’t care if he’s in the Avengers. He isn’t twenty-one and looks it. I’ll get fired on the spot.”

Dad: “Can we request another server?”

Me: “If you don’t like this table, you can go back to the host and put your name down for another table and server. The wait is forty-five minutes. I’ll be right back with your waters if you decide to stay.”

I then turned around and greeted my next table. They did stay but complained about everything, so the manager went by. They tried ordering the drink with him, and since I had already explained everything to him, he carded the kid and said, “I’ll bring you a virgin peach margarita on me.”

No tip on $40.00.

I’m in the US Navy and I come home to let the maintenance man into my apartment to work on something. He finishes his work and I see him out. I remember that my lock was sticking and it was hard to get the key in. Rather than call the maintenance man back over to fix it, I remember that I have some gun oil and run back inside to grab it, return to my door, spritz-spritz, test it with a key, mission accomplished

As I’m about to go back inside I hear:

Neighbor: “Hey, you! Come here!”

I turn around to see another tenant standing there.

Neighbor: “What are you doing?”

Me: “Fixing the lock. It was sticking, so I’m just lubing it up.”

Neighbor: “Exactly. Why aren’t you fixing mine?!”

Me: “Excu—”

Neighbor: “Just shut up, get over here, and fix my lock! I put in a maintenance request two days ago!”

I’m already not having any of this.

Me: “No.”

Neighbor: “Excuse me? How dare you?! I’ll have you know that I’m friends with the office ladies and your boss. I can get you fired for laziness.”

Me: “I doubt that.”

Neighbor: “It’s true! Now fix this lock or I’ll have your job!”

Me: “No. I don’t work here, idiot. I’m literally wearing my Navy uniform. I owe you nothing, and I’m going to go back inside now.”

Neighbor: “Ugh! Well, you still should have helped me!”

Me: “Maybe, had you been polite about it, I would have, but certainly not now. I’m going inside and you can f*** off, pound sand, and kick rocks in whichever order you feel like.”

I shut the door five minutes ago and she’s still screaming and pounding on my door. Ahh, music!

I was at a store with an ex once. I had just gotten off work at a dining facility on the local military base. My ex and I were standing in the candy aisle debating which bulk candy we wanted. A soldier walked up to me.

Soldier: “Where is [item]?”

Me: “I don’t know. I’m looking at candy to buy.”

Soldier: “Oh. It’s just that you look familiar.”

Me: “That’s probably because you saw me at dinner two hours ago.”

He left me alone after that.