Iraq or Bust
Leave Minot for Iraq. I got to Baltimore Washington International (BWI) airport around 4pm. Took my time, which was too long, to get my luggage. I figured I would get familiar with the place and figure out where I needed to go opposed to lugging around all of my luggage in the process.
One of the ‘Flight Caps’ was in the process of putting my bags on a trolley as I approached the conveyor. He looked at me, in uniform, and correctly assumed the bags he was handling were mine. I acknowledged.
As I transferred my belongings from his trolley to the cart I had just spent $3 on, I got the feeling he wanted a tip. Not from his actions, probably from my recollection of similar events in movies I had seen. I didn’t. Tip him that is.
The line at the MAC terminal (Military Ticket counter) was about 2 hours long by my estimation, and I didn’t want to wait in it just to be told to come back later. My check in time - which was 3 hours before the flight - wasn’t until 6:30 the next morning.
I dropped in on the local USO which I had found during my bag less moments, and gave the hotel a call from their phone. That was the plan anyway. There was another guy on the phone ‘trying’ to find a hotel. Using my sharp wit and keen situational awareness, I realized that this might be a long wait, and decided to use my cell phone which still had about 2 days of service left.
While I was waiting for the Hotel Shuttle, Dad called and told me that my flight was delayed and gave me a number to call. A few moments later I squashed the cigarette and put my luggage in the back of the shuttle. Once at the hotel, I was checked in to a non-smoking room. 5 minutes after that, I was on my way to my ’smoking’ room. After uploading all my gear, I went down to the restaurant for some grub.
After looking around, I realized that the bar was attached and coped a seat there instead. There were two guys to my right holding a conversation and the bar maid in the center doing a good job of appearing occupied. I asked her for water and a menu. I got the menu. In the mean time, I overheard the guy closest to my right mention something about his cell phone, the Motorola Razor, being able to sync with his outlook calendar. As some of you may know… I have been in need - if not the market - of a new phone.
That’s where the night started. I displayed my ignorance of the Razor being able to perform such a feat; “I’m sorry, did you say that would sync with outlook?” To which he replied with a “Yes.. it will.” while handing me the phone. About 20-25 minutes later, the bar maid decided to take our order (with the help of a little reminder that we were waiting) and also deliver the water I had requested about 30 minutes prior. Of course the other two gentlemen and I shared a look of “Jeez… bout time woman.”
Next thing you know we’re sharing stories of fishing, hunting, phones and laptops. Now I have free beer in front of me, and my meal being paid for by the gentleman to the left. (If only I could find his card, I could give you his name. But here is a picture - that he is taking - so he is not in it. Nice shot of the bar though eh?)
I guess I could make a long story longer… or crop it here. For your sake (translation: I’m tired of typing) I will crop it…
More beers were purchased. Another fellow came in and sat between the other two guys I was talking to. Low and behold.. he too, is from the same area, been to the same places, and feels obligated to buy me drinks. We all do the small world thing and the second guy from the original group takes off.
Now there are about 10 Air Force peeps that have come in from…. Balad. I strike up a convo with one, and before long, the whole gang is over there with us. More drinks, some shots called ‘Woo Woo’ and more drinks. And my bud over to my right… with the razor, and his new bud to his right are forking out green backs hand over foot. (Their wives have to be PISSED.)
Not long after all that, the cameras start to pop out left and right. We get the last call, which means we have to buy 3 or so more drinks per person. All this my friends, and your humble narrator just wanted to grab a bite to eat, and a Heineken with a Shot of Jack!
That’s the night. I left the bar area - bumped into the receptionist that so professionally assigned my room and was going off duty, asked her heritage (Italian and Black, with something else non-memorable in there) that she was quite attractive and headed up to bed.