I wouldn't have made it on the improv circuit. That doesn't mean I'm not funny - ask Andrea. I make her laugh all. the. time. Though only she could tell you if she was laughing with me or at me. It's just I'm not good at off-the-cuff, spur-of-the-moment retorts. I'd be more inclined to email or text a scorching rebuff after I'd contemplated it for a day or two.
Sometimes, however, the oracular gods smile benevolently on the least of their subjects.
After my sophomore year at Auburn, I was designated for a training cruise onboard a submarine. One of the Navy lieutenants, a submariner himself, was prepping me.
"Don't piss off the COB, don't take more than 3 minutes in the shower, and for god's sake, don't do anything to embarrass us."
"Yes, sir."
"Oh. Also, you're gonna get hazed. It's a thing. Just roll with it."
I hopped on a flight to San Juan, Puerto Rico, and was met by a petty officer from the boat who announced he'd be my ride. Once on the road, after a few pleasantries, he suddenly got serious. "Okay, Middy, listen up. The Quartermaster Chief has a ritual every time someone new boards the boat. He's gonna come looking for you, he's gonna get right in your face, and he's gonna ask you a single question. I'm telling you, it's coming, so you need to be ready."
"Ohhhkaaay. What's the question?"
"'Hey, wanna see my d*ck?!'"
"Heh. OK. Thanks for the intel."
Outwardly calm, in my head, I'm thinking, "Well crap." I wracked my brain on the hour long drive to the base trying to come up with a response that would allow me to save face and not piss off the Chief.
Arriving dockside, I got my first look at the "'Horse".
USS Seahorse, SSN 669, was a Sturgeon-class, nuclear, fast-attack submarine. Designed to take out enemy surface ships and subs, she was a ghostly silent, effectively lethal hunter. She was also the first vessel to which I was assigned. My silent contemplation of this once-in-a-lifetime moment was brashly ended by crew members hollering from the bridge.
"Hey! Look! It's the new Middy!"
"Fresh meat!"
"Yo, Middy! Hope you brought a lot of cash!"
"Yeah! First round's on you!"
"And the second, too!"
I just smiled and sighed - and so it began.
I was berthed with the chiefs, and as I was stowing my gear I heard a commotion behind me. I turned and saw a tall, balding, mustached dude charging at me like a man on a mission. From his collar insignia I deduced this was the Quartermaster Chief I was warned about. Putting his face inches from mine, he yelled out.
"Hey, Middy!"
Deep breath. "Yeah, Chief?"
"Wanna see my d*ck?!"
The moment was upon me - but I hadn't yet formulated a response. I'd been up well before dawn, and I was mentally and physically fried. Being summertime in Puerto Rico didn't help as the jeep ride from the airport was steamy as hell. I was tired, hot, hungry, and in a bit of a mood. And now I'm being challenged by one one the senior petty officers on board not more than 10 minutes after my arrival.
I was desperately trying to clear the cobwebs. Think, Wayne, think!
By then, a small crowd had gathered to watch the show. I raised an eyebrow and looked my accoster up and down. Then, in a rare moment of sheer clarity, it came to me. In this, perhaps my most gloriously ad-libbed moment, I delivered a simple declaration.
"Sure thing, Chief. I could use a laugh right now."
Apart from the low, constant whirring of machinery, the silence in that stateroom was deafening. It took a hot second, but one of the other chiefs managed to regain composure.
"AHHHH!!! BUUUURRRRN!!!"
Not sure if I was going to be read the riot act and banished to bilge duty, I held my breath. After the initial shock wore off, the Chief just shook his head and laughed. Turning on his heel, he pitched his thumb at me as he walked away. "I like him. He can stay."
It set the tone for the rest of the cruise. Apparently, word percolated through the rest of the crew and there were no further hazing incidents. My nickname transitioned from "the Middy" to "Cap", and I was warmly welcomed into their ranks and was even brought along on adventures ashore detailed in other pages in this blog.
These days, it's best to be cautious when taking potshots at this normally taciturn dude with a year-round tan. While still not the best at improvised comebacks, the natural scowl perennially on display ain't just for show, and I no longer have the timidity of youth keeping me in check.
Welcome to Rock-tober.
1 comment:
Awesome
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