Quote:
Kentucky woman:
If she get to know you,
is she goin' to own you?
Sure.
Quote:
Originally Posted by fatkid
Mayo,
If I couldn't get you finer things like all of them diamond rings bitches KILL FOR would you STILL ROLL?
Sure.
Quote:
Originally Posted by herbertstemple
Then you know how to make moonshine?
Nope.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Morphismus
Mayo,
is the Kentucky Derby really decadent and depraved?
Yep.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mr.mmmKay
Mayo,
is waffle and chicken an acceptable combination
It is. However, chicken and pancakes is not.
My last USAF assignment was at Creech Air Force Base, about an hour outside of Vegas. It's across the highway from the tiny town of Indian Springs, and there ain't nothin' around, except for the Indian Springs Casino/motel/gas station/trailer park.
There was a little restaurant in the casino, and its specialty was chicken and pancakes. My coworkers had a tradition of eating lunch there on Fridays, but in my year there I spent most of my time on night shift and thus never partook. But one Friday last September, it was my very last day in the Air Force, and I finished my final paperwork around lunchtime. So I went and had one last meal with all my coworkers at the Indian Springs Casino. Naturally, I had the chicken and pancakes.
There was merriment, goodbyes, stories, well-wishes, and some hugs. The pancakes were delicious, and the chicken was pretty good. All too soon, everyone had to get back to work. My Air Force career might have been over, but theirs continued apace. With one final wave, they went back to base, and I silently drove back toward the shimmering city of Las Vegas and my nearly empty apartment. I opened the door, took off my uniform for the very last time, and started to realize that I was a civilian again. It was bittersweet to say the least.
But it was time to move on! Now that the U.S. Federal Government was done with me, it was time to leave Nevada behind, cram the rest of my stuff into my 2009 Chevy Aveo, and make the 2,000 mile drive back to my old Kentucky home. I went to bed really early that night, planning to be on the road by oh-five-hundred-hours. No, wait. I'm a civilian now. I don't mean 0500. I mean 5:00 A.M. Just the first of a hundred small and big and necessary changes in attitude that have given me trouble over the next year. I slept fitfully.
0400 arrived. Or, rather, 4:00 A.M. arrived. The alarm blared. BEEP BEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEP BEEP forever and ever and ever. I found the snooze button, jammed it, and sat up in the bed. I didn't feel well. A headache. I'm not ashamed to admit that I had cried a bit the night before, and headaches often accompany the tears. Sadness causes physical pain. I was not concerned. I climbed out of the bed to face the day.
And immediately had a wave of dizziness that, in a very literal way, knocked me off my feet. Whoa. I landed right back on the bed. That was new. That couldn't be explained away as a side effect of the snifflies. Something was wrong. Time to take stock. What's that? Am I - yes I am. I'm about to hurl. To the bathroom!
I did not get on the road at 0500 that day. Nor even at 5:00 A.M. I spent that whole damn Saturday lying in bed, puking until there was nothing left to puke and then dry heaving after that. Sunday was spent in much the same way. The weekend gave me plenty of opportunity to ruefully consider the fact that this was the sickest I'd been in years, and it occurred the day after I lost access to full comprehensive medical treatment for free. Them's the breaks. Physical pain causes sadness.
By Monday morning, I was feeling somewhat better and began my cross country trip. I also called my (former) office to handle some business that I've long since forgotten, at which point I found out that I was not the only one who had spent their weekend retching into a bucket. It was the damn chicken and pancakes! Several of us had gotten food poisoning from the ****ing Indian Springs Casino.
About two weeks later, the Air Force bought that casino and shut it down for unrelated reasons. And now you know... the rest of the story. Good day.