During my time at Fort Benning, I had four different roommates in the barracks. My first roommate was the incumbent when I arrived, and he got out of the Army about a month after I arrived. My second roommate was a mess hall cook named Garcia. My third roommate, who I’ve mentioned in several posts, was Tony Di Anzo. When Di Anzo met his future wife at Nichols Alley, he moved out of the barracks soon afterwards. For a brief period of time, I had a room to myself. But that respite of privacy was not to last long. A few weeks later a new guy was assigned to the platoon. The new guy was a French-Canadian with a weird last name that I couldn’t really pronounce. After we got to know each other he said, “You know, Wright, most people have trouble pronouncing my name. So, they just usually wind up calling me ‘Frenchy.’ Why don’t you call me Frenchy too?” I replied, “Gee, Frenchy, I don’t know? Frenchy seems pretty difficult to pronounce. I might have to think about this. Hmmm… Okay, Frenchy it is. But you’re buying the first beer.” “What do you mean I’m buying the first beer?” “Well, see there’s this rule. And the rule states that the newbie has to buy the first beer.” “That sounds like some bullshit you just made up.” “I didn’t just make that up. If you don’t believe me, just ask me. Hell, let’s go ask a couple of the other guys.” So, we walked out into the hall and we ran into Wilson and Rodriguez. Two perfect suckers I thought, and I asked, “Wilson this is my new roommate Frenchy. He doesn’t believe me that the newbie buys the first beer. Tell him, who buys the first beer?” Wilson chimed in, “The newbie always buys.” Rodriguez immediately agreed, “Yeah, the newbie always buys.” Then I jumped back in, “But you’re in luck Frenchy. Today is your lucky day. Say ‘thank you Wright.’ Come on now.” Frenchy retorted, “I feel like I’m being railroaded. Why is this my lucky day? And why should I thank you?” “First, you’re not being railroaded. Second, this is your lucky day because it’s Wednesday. Wednesday is Nichol night at Nichols Alley. Beer is only five cents a beer on Wednesdays at Nichols Alley. And you should thank me because I’m going to take you to Nichols Alley so you can buy us that beer that I was talking about. Ain’t I nice?” Frenchy and I got along great, and he turned out to be one of the best roommates that I ever had in the Army. As time went on, I spent more time off post during my off-duty time than I did in the barracks. That meant that I only came to the barracks to crash whenever I didn’t have a place to stay downtown with one of my friends or with Chains. That didn’t happen often, but it did happen. One Saturday night there was nothing happening in Columbus, Georgia. I really didn’t feel like hanging out and drinking. Chains and the rest of my biker friends were not in town, so I figured they must have ridden down to South Georgia or North Florida. My friends from the Army shooting team were also not in town. I could’ve gone over to another friend’s house. But he usually threw these wild, crazy parties that usually involved all sorts of nasty things (unless you’re into that sort of thing) like orgies and drugs. Not really my scene. So, I decided to just head back to base and crash at the barracks. After all, the dayroom had cheap beer and I was pretty sure that Frenchy had cold beer in the room. I stopped at Burger King to grab a whopper and some onion rings to knock down a bad case of the munchies before I headed back. When I pulled into the parking lot at the company, the light for our room in the barracks was off. Thus, I figured that Frenchy was either out for the evening or already in bed. Since I didn’t want to disturb him, I went to the dayroom and bought a few beers to chill out and relax. I drank the beers while watching professional wrestling on TV with another one of my buddies. Then, I went upstairs to my room, unlocked the door, and when in. I went to the far side of the room, undressed, and got into bed. A little while later, I heard the pitter patter of feet crossing the room, and a little light came on. I looked up expecting to see Frenchy standing by the little refrigerator we had. Instead, I received one helluva shock. Standing in full profile by the little refrigerator, illuminated by the light, was a lady bare ass naked! I damn near shit my pants. The only problem was I wasn’t wearing any pants. Yeah. Shitting right then would have been a major catastrophe. It was as if I was in an “R” or an “X” rated movie, except without the movie. I am pretty sure that the lady, whoever she was, knew that I was there. And I am also pretty sure she knew exactly what she was doing. Oh yeah. She knew. For sure. No doubt about it. I rolled over and faced the wall. Then, I heard that telltale pitter patter of feet again. Then, I felt her touch me, and I thought, “What the hell?” I turned and looked up. And there she was standing over me. I thought my eyes deceived me. This just couldn’t be happening. But it was. Finally, I said, “What the hell lady? What gives? What do you want from me?” As if I didn’t already know. She looked at me and said, “What’s the matter big boy? Are you afraid of me? I’m not going to bite.” “Oh, but I think you are. Going to bite that is. Excuse me, but you’re here with Frenchy, aren’t you?” “Yes, but he’s passed out. He had too much to drink. Guys aren’t much fun when they’ve had too much to drink. And I just want to have some fun. I swear I won’t bite. Can I have fun with you?” “Tell you what lady, let me run to the latrine and I’ll be right back.” “Okay. But hurry up because I’ll be waiting.” “Yes. I’m sure you will.” As soon as she turned to walk back across the room, I quickly pulled on my pants, grabbed my shoes, and dashed out the door. I went out to my car and slept in the back seat for the evening. The next day after I was sure Frenchy’s lady friend was gone, I went to the room. I found Frenchy, and he didn’t look so good. He had a wicked hangover. I asked him if he had a rough evening the night before. He said, “Wright, let me tell you, I don’t even remember what happened.” I replied, “Do you remember a lady?” “Oh yeah. I met her at the EM club. We had a few drinks and we danced. That’s pretty much all I remember.” “You don’t remember bringing her back to the room?” “Back to the room?” “Yeah.” “I may have, but I don’t remember it.” “Well you did.” “Holy shit!” “Yeah. Not only that. She wanted to share her services.” “Was she…” “Was she a dog? No. Not really. She actually looked pretty decent. Except for that minor personality flaw.” “Oh.” “Next time you want to bring a lady friend back to the barracks, that’s cool, but you gotta give me some kind of warning. You know, a sock on the door or a sign, a little note on the door. Something. So, that I know not to come in. I mean, sure, I enjoyed the show last night. It was a helluva show. But when she wanted to crawl in bed with me, that’s where I had to draw the line. You know what I mean.” “Yeah. I think I’ve got it.” “Let’s drink then.” And Frenchy and I laughed at another exercise in futility.
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