I'm standing by the dance floor, surveying the crowd, nodding my head to some old skool flave when I feel someone tugging on my arm. I look back and notice a gruff lookin' female, late 30's early 40's, trying to drag me out onto the dance floor. I politely try and decline the invitation. "No thanks, I'm just chillin".
"No, you're coming to dance", she commands.
"No, really, I'm chillin", I say kindly.
"No, put your beer down on the table and come dance. I'm a Marine sergeant. I just got back from nine months in the desert. I don't take no very well."
Next thing I know I'm on the dance floor, getting grinded on by GI Jane. Actually, she reminded my of Chuck Norris in Uncommon Valor, but without the stache. I had the feeling her martial arts were every bit as tight. So I wasn't playing my usual macho bullshit.
Anyhow, I begin to grill her about her combat experience. "Did you shoot anybody", I say. She holds up three fingers. "Three confirmed kills. My sister over there had five". She points to her beautiful step-sister sitting in a booth rapping to my friend. Lucky son of a bitch. I run interference on the Chuck and he's rapping to Xena.
"How do you know you got them", I ask, referring to her kill count. "I saw them drop", she replied proudly and did a soldier's spin.
Although she seemed to take pride in her combat skills, I could tell that, deep down, she was having problems reconciling her kill count. It's got to be difficult to rationalize taking three lives, regardless of the circumstances.
After the dance we arm wrestled, played the slap game where one person has their hands on their hips and tries to smack the other person's hands before they move, and chugged a couple beers. When it was time to go, she looked me dead in the eyes, grabbed the back of my head, and gave me head butt. I haven't had a morning headache like this...well, ever.
"No, you're coming to dance", she commands.
"No, really, I'm chillin", I say kindly.
"No, put your beer down on the table and come dance. I'm a Marine sergeant. I just got back from nine months in the desert. I don't take no very well."
Next thing I know I'm on the dance floor, getting grinded on by GI Jane. Actually, she reminded my of Chuck Norris in Uncommon Valor, but without the stache. I had the feeling her martial arts were every bit as tight. So I wasn't playing my usual macho bullshit.
Anyhow, I begin to grill her about her combat experience. "Did you shoot anybody", I say. She holds up three fingers. "Three confirmed kills. My sister over there had five". She points to her beautiful step-sister sitting in a booth rapping to my friend. Lucky son of a bitch. I run interference on the Chuck and he's rapping to Xena.
"How do you know you got them", I ask, referring to her kill count. "I saw them drop", she replied proudly and did a soldier's spin.
Although she seemed to take pride in her combat skills, I could tell that, deep down, she was having problems reconciling her kill count. It's got to be difficult to rationalize taking three lives, regardless of the circumstances.
After the dance we arm wrestled, played the slap game where one person has their hands on their hips and tries to smack the other person's hands before they move, and chugged a couple beers. When it was time to go, she looked me dead in the eyes, grabbed the back of my head, and gave me head butt. I haven't had a morning headache like this...well, ever.
duh!
even gi jane knows that!