Unnamed

Part two

But this is nowhere near when the actual problems started.

I guess I'm getting ahead of myself. First we present, then we analyze, no? I'll tell you how I got to be here, and then I'll tell you why we had to go through this. Okay, okay, it'll be my opinions and truths as I see them, because, in the end, it's our own opinions we ever have.

So, for me, it all started off right before the bombings. The war was escalating and there was significant speculative evidence that there was outside, state-sponsored involvement. I had been getting anxious over the upcoming graduate school tests and had already decided that I'd get in shape for the military for the god-forbidden chance that I don't get into graduate school. Either way, I didn't hear about it at first. I was out running the usual five-mile trek I've been doing for, what felt like, time immortal. I came home and got ready to take a shower and flipped on my TV. There on the screen were the horrifying pictures, horrific home videos of an apparent mushroom cloud. I knew in an instant that that was all the encouragement I needed. I talked it over with my girlfriend, and she persuaded me to wait until there was evidence that it was an actual attack on our country from another country. You see, I had always told her that if we were to be attacked again, I'd sign up and make sure I kill some bastards.

Eventually they proved that it was indeed an attack on our country and we went to war with the rude, sucker punching, love-hating, war-mongering country -- I got caught up with it all, at the time. Marching in to the recruitment center, I pronounced to the surprisingly empty room, "I'd like to sign up for the military."

"What branch, kid? Maybe the Coast Guard? Won't be too hard on a green like you. None of that harsh work or anything," responded a quite grizzly man whose looks alone would be enough to dissuade the weak-minded.

Puffing out my chest in an act of defiance I hit him with the most assurance I could muster. "The Army, of course, maybe even the Special Forces. Nothin' but the best for me." That'll show 'im. "I've been getting in shape for the Army anyway, this just --- accelerated the decision," I added, with a slight nod of my head.

"Well good, boy, need some tough, dedicated sons of bitches to get those sand niggers that back-stabbed us." I instantly lost my grin and self-pride at that. There's no call for rude manners, even to the most hideous of enemies. Shooting a man dead is all the payback I'd ever need.

"Back in the day, we wouldn't need anything more than your blood on the devil's contract to get you off to boot camp. Nowadays, with all these rules and regulations and sign-up bonuses and all this bullshit, you need to take tests, fill out forms, sign things in triplicate, and dig up your great-great grandfather's grave for his own approval. You know, the red tape." With that, he pushed me into a back room, taking my height and weight, testing my eyesight, and running a couple of other tests. After that it was time for the testing. A breezing hour later I was finished with my sign up process.

"We can't officially sign you up with this until I get your test results back. I know a guy in the grading center who'll rush yours through before all these other snots sign up. We'll let you know tomorrow," and he shoved me out the door with a warning to go sleep on my decision and come back tomorrow assured that I know what I'm wanting to do.

Back at my apartment I grunted hello to my girlfriend, grabbed some day old pizza, and headed to the bedroom to do some soul searching.