While I am typically against dating (it interrupts an otherwise comfortable schedule of work/drink/sleep/repeat), last night I finally acquiesced to the opposite sex for what I was hoping would be a relaxing Monday night out for dinner and drinks.
The first few hours went along smoothly. She wasn't bad to look at, and we shared various tastes, the kind you admit in small talk. Music, movies, etc. Boring date bullshit. I drank in my sangria slowly and, honestly, enjoyed the simplicity of not having to dig deep for answers and questions.
Dinner done, she decides she'd like to skip down the block to play some pool and drink beers. Sounds fun enough.
Somehow, toward the end of what would be the last game of pool that night we get on the subject of the war. We both share the opinion that going into Iraq was a pretty bad idea. (This is not D&D. I'm not here to fucking debate the war. I get it. Bush looks like a monkey and he sucks oil through his urethra. Also, he's Hitler.)
To caveat, earlier, discussing where we grew up, I mentioned my dad was a 25 year veteran of the Army, Death From Above, Airborne Ranger... a mean, badass, fightin' mutherfucker. I also add that I did ROTC, and opted out of my contract when the time came. It is, afterall, a volunteer Army.
She footnotes her opinion that the Iraq war is a waste with, "Actually, I think the military shouldn't exist at all." It's the kind sentence an Army brat hears and goes, ooooh boy, I got another one of theeese fuckers. It is an uncomfortable and nasty feeling. Like finding a fingernail in your spaghetti. She continues, "I think anyone in the military or even involved with our military is evil."
I stop her.
Me. "Did you... are you... did you listen to me? Earlier? When I told you how if there was a draft, I'd sign up in a heartbeat?"
Her. "Well I think that's stupid, and if you want to kill people, whatever."
Me. "Fine, your opinion... here. I'll give you an opportunity to solve WWII without the use of military force."
Her. "That's different."
Me. "How so?"
Her. "They used nuclear weapons against us!"
Me. "That.... that was us."
Her. "Well, you know what I mean."
At this point I am dumbfounded. I ask her politely to leave, as the date was over, and there was no recoevery. She was a little shocked, but, honestly? I work with morons all day every day, I shouldn't have to date them.
Her. "You're kicking me out?!"
Me. "No, I'm giving you a chance to save what little face you have left by leaving before me. I'm sorry, this just isnt' working for me, and I'd prefer to go home."
I felt tricked. For 2 hours, I sat convinced that this girl may be someone I might want to go out with again. I'd forgive her opinion of the military, I really would. People are entitled to dislike things. I get that. But the fact that she'd get history so fucking wrong just flipped a switch in me.
How are people this fucking ignorant? Hiroshima! Nagasaki! HOW DO YOU NOT FUCKING KNOW. HOW. TELL ME NOW.
Hows about you, me, and five uncomfortable minutes in my basement apartment next to the dusty Christmas tree that's still up from my last visit with my estranged children.
The Upper Kitchen Cabinet Where Your Roommate Keeps His Food: You’ll 'need the footstool' to reach your roommate’s 'fine selection' of 'stale cereal,' but he'll never notice if 'only a little is missing from each box.' Feel less guilty by reminding yourself that Jeff 'acts weird around your girlfriend,' and always 'asks about her.' What a 'creep.'
This ain't your daddy's globe...! .... or is it?!
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