[Ed. Note: Duffel Blog has gathered some of the military-themed “missed connections” from Craigslist.com and other sources.]
You: A Talib in brown tribal garb, and what I took to be your teenage daughter. You were beating her with a rock, no doubt for having her period, or some other, equally heinous, crime.
Me: A Marine in a ghillie suit, with an M40A2 and a bad case of dehydration. It’s the only time I’ve missed.
You: A Bangkok prostitute of indeterminate sex, with boobs like peaches and a face like a very naughty angel in that bar down by the pier, where that ship captain got busted.
Me: A 19 year old sailor on his first deployment who lost it five seconds into a handie because you walked by. Our eyes met, and I know you felt it, too. I’ll be in the same bar this Friday. My mom is flying in and I want you to meet her.
You: A hot brunette Air Force LTC working in the USFOR-A Logistics office, with unauthorized (and hot!) hair braids and an M9 in a bright yellow leather shoulder holster. You were in the Caesar Salad line in the DFAC right outside Bus Stop 4.
Me: 20-year-old grunt on his first tour, with three whole combat patrols under my belt and a CIB waiting for me as soon as the paperwork goes through. Our hands touched when we both tried to push the Powerade drink lever at the same time. You laughed and said “go first,” and I knew that you meant so much more than beverage acquisition. You meant love acquisition.
I’ll be at the breakfast-for-dinner bar tomorrow evening, wearing a red carnation on my lapel. Let’s have dinner and then retire to my quarters and watch Jackass 2.5.
You: A barely literate individual with a Top Secret clearance, a degree that starts with www, and a vocabulary the size of a five-year-old’s.
Me: The guy who has to hire our next Pakistan analyst. I really wish I could just pay you to scrub our toilets … but you do have that clearance.
Ed Note: G-Had and Dick Scuttlebutt contributed to this report.
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