Day ClX

                       Merry Christmas to one and all!

Bums ina soivice

     I remember reading about a stupid, hippie bitch who shot a Nam Vet at an airport, as he was on his way home. He survived the war, and she got him at home. That was her war protest. The dumb bitch thought she was doing her moral duty. The war was still going on, there were many protest, and sometimes vets paid an ugly price.

     I was lucky I was never called into the reserves. It was really a seven year commitment; four years active, two active reserves, and one inactive reserves. I was never called. Anyway, the next day all the bums in the neighborhood, today we call them homeless people, and junkies were wearing my gear. I thought it was the funniest thing. Every once in a while I would pass one on the street, looking like an airman who had a terrible night. I wish had taken pictures.

    The next day I went to the old pizza shop, and there behind the counter was James, the same guy who launched that cigar off the roof top.

     “Damn, lookey hea!”

     He reached over the counter, and almost shook my arm off of me.

     “How ya dooning, man?”

     “I just got outa da soivice, man.”

     “I hoid, I hoid, man.”

     “Yea man, so hea I am.”

     “Damn, those fo years sure went by fast, dude.”

     “Well they let me out six months early, man.”

     “How did ya woik dat out!”

     “It’s a long story but the short of it is for the convenience of the government.”

     “Oh I know that, your were a pain their asses, uh”

     “Soita soita, man!”

     “Ya gotsta be da guy wat dressed up alla bums wound hea, uh.”

     “Soita, man, soita.”

     “Wat ya do, gi em ya gea?”