now is a good time to panic


west coast pizza delivery

My friend Jo loves you guys SO MUCH that you’re getting another story! Yay! For clarification, there’s a Katie in this story… but it’s not me. It’s still extremely hilarious, though. Enjoy, and make sure to leave some love for Jo in the comments.

 

I had my truck shipped when I left Italy for Arizona, and the port of entry was Los Angeles.  So when it came in, I had to fly to L.A. and drive my truck back to Tucson.  The trip was mostly uneventful; I packed my satchel with the thousand-page paperwork and some leftover pizza for the drive back.  I picked up my truck, gassed it up (forgot gas cap key, tried to call Dad, cried in parking lot, tattooed mechanic helped me break in with a screwdriver, cops came to see why we were stealing truck), and headed back to Tucson.  Oh, I stopped in Compton to buy a 40 oz malt liquor also, as one does.  The guy in the liquor store was laughing his ass off behind his bulletproof glass.  I ate one of the two pieces of leftover pizza and zipped the other one back in its gallon ziplock.

 

When I got back home, I put my truck up for sale and transferred all my stuff carefully into my Jeep.  This means I opened the back and shoveled everything into the cargo compartment, never to be thought of again.  Since I had not yet remarried at this time, and my only child was finishing his school year and spending the summer at his grandma’s house, all I had to worry about was work, eat, sleep and feed the cats.

 

It is hot in Tucson.  Surface-of-the-sun hot.  I toiled the summer away downloading 40-foot semi trucks full of bombs and ammunition.  The crowbar was my all-purpose tool to hammer, pry, point, and threaten.  I was crew chief for a 5-man crew, and my assistant crew chief and partner in crime was Josh.  Names not changed, all parties guilty.  I often felt that Josh and I shared a brain when it came to evil shenanigans, whether the plot was to send an e-mail to everyone from our dispatcher’s computer confessing his secret man-crush or to rig a fellow crew chief’s locker with rubber bands that shot him when he opened it.  If the ingenuity and brainpower that AMMO used to screw with each other was instead used to win wars, we would be INVINCIBLE.

 

So, the storage crews almost always went to lunch together, or for a beer or two after work, or just locked our office doors and had beer while we were putting our munitions movements into the computer at the end of the day. (Which made the next day interesting for our dispatcher when he tried to figure out how 100 bombs ended up in the location “DEEZ NUTZ”).  As Josh and I were coming back from lunch one sweltering day, we noticed a smell.  Like a dead animal smell or a reanimated corpse smell.  We looked around but couldn’t find the source, and over the course of the next 2 weeks, the smell intensified.  Finally, I decided to actually do a comprehensive search, and Josh and I went through the cargo compartment of the Jeep.  The smell was coming from my satchel.  THE PIZZA!  The leftover pizza from 6 months ago!  The smell had managed to escape the ziplock, and the pizza was just a gooey brown triangle of slime with a crust.  GAH!  We tossed it in the trash barrel outside the building and went to have a smoke.

 

A bit later, we were all sitting on the patio when I caught my breath with a gasp and looked pointedly at Josh.  Wordlessly, he nodded, and we retrieved the “pizza” from the trash and put it under the seat of our newest airman’s car.  Now we wait.  This is the best part of shenanigans, waiting for the discovery.  So, a few hours later, we’re sitting on the porch smoking (I assure you, this is not all we do, but there’s nowhere else to sit at the office, so there you go) when the new airman, Katie, stomped out onto the porch.  Her face was red, and her hair was all over the place.  She pointed an accusing finger at Josh and I and shouted, “I know y’all put that pie in my car!!!”

 

You know, it did kind of look like a squashed piece of pecan pie.  We retrieved the pie, and after determining that even the coyotes wouldn’t eat it, gave it a dignified burial in an undisclosed location and drank the 40 in remembrance.

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5 Comments so far
Leave a comment

Jo! You’re in Tucson and I didn’t know this?! You realize that I live in Tucson AND work where you work (in that “area”). Why aren’t we instant best friends?! LoL. Are you still in Tucson?

Comment by alfg610

I’m not, I’m being held against my will in Turkey until March but we HOPE to be moving back. If not I will be stationed somewhere else for 18 mos and then we will be back! YAY!

Comment by Jo

It is good you can maintain your sense of humor as well as prop up morale. I’m sure Katie eventually forgave you and I dearly hope she got even; she is very thorough in that way.
xxx

Comment by susan

Jo…. so effing nasty! Good times :)

Comment by katie

Lol!!! I love a good practical joke!

Comment by triing2survive




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