I once had to lean forward at the movie theater and growl at some stranger talking about some very sensitive military topics. He was an Army guy, showing off for his buddy. And he may or may not have been involved in the programs he was blabbering about, but he had no reason to gab at the theater. He was duly shamed and we all enjoyed the flick. Glad to say, not all the bigmouths in Ex Bootneck’s story, from this post, were in quite as an enjoyable mood:
I once attended the wedding of a childhood friend who had no connection with the armed forces. I wore dress uniform for the wedding, and changed into a suit for the evening ‘swari’, which was attended by additional guests.
Well into the evening I was talking with a group of people some of whom I vaguely knew; when a bloke was asked what he done for a living; he was a bit reluctant to say and dithered and blundered into a tale about working abroad.
When he went off to visit the ‘heads’ his drunken girl friend whispered to me and the original questioner’; shhHH! But he is actually MI5 and doesn’t like to talk about it. I rolled my eyes towards the heavens and hoped he would return and move on. He did; and didn’t!
He had found his comfort zone and wished to exploit his ‘shhHH’ position to anyone who would listen. One of which was I. After he had drunk copious amounts of vodka his tongue loosened even more about his past exploits (it rolled around like a cannonball on an open deck). I was absolutely amazed to see that there were those in the conversation actually being taken in by it all.
‘ShhHH’ was para trained, as well as an expert in small arms and unarmed combat, and bugger me; he was also studying for his aircraft ‘fixed wing’ licence for his next step to fly ‘choppers’!
In truth I absolutely loved it, in fact I was winding him up through my forced gullibility. It was only when ‘girlfriend’ told me she was going to pay for their wedding as well as the honeymoon that I realised that enough, was enough.
I took her to one side and explained the facts of life, from which she appeared a little dazed. I waited until he returned from an outside cigarette break and took him to one side and explained a little about myself, as well as the BS he had been spreading. Unbelievably he stated that he had his Govt ID with him in their hotel room, of which he went to pick up… Guess who did not return?
Leaving little Ms. Naivety to sob uncontrollably until she was poured into a cab for her safe return journey home.
Some while after I was out with a couple of good mates having a quiet drink when I spied ‘shhHH’ working behind the bar! ‘Remember me”? He looked at me as though I had two heads… “No mate, I don’t”, he walked off into the kitchen area not to be seen again that evening. It turned out that ‘ShhHH’ was actually bar/cook/& bottle washer, who was also a (failed) reservist from the Army Catering Corps (now known as the Royal Logistic Corps).
Ms. Naivety was fortunate enough to escape from an unknown fate virtually unscathed. She successfully pursued ‘shhHH’ over the cost of a small loan he borrowed.
My toes are starting to uncurl as I finish typing this…
You, of course, know the dips in the title is for dipstick. Or worse.