A short stint in the Navy

Note: names of towns and cities have been changed

I could only do so much, at that time in Xedret. I had been thinking about it for a while, so I had decided to join the United States Navy. I spoke with a navy recruiter, took the ASVAB, did all the prerequisite stuff and signed the papers.

I really didn't want to leave Tabitha high and dry, but I had to start something in regards as to a professional life or a career. I had stalled for long enough. We had talked before (well, actually day dreamed or fantasized) about joining work force on a cruise ship. We could see the world together. However, the practicalities were not there. So, I joined the navy. I left for Bootcamp in October.

The Navy was pretty cool. Bootcamp was a little rough, especially since the weather was so cold in Great Lakes, Illinois. But actually, I had fun there. I got a title as Divisional Yeoman, a title that had some advantages, at least as far as bootcamp was concerned. After that, I had a three week leave and then in the middle of January or the first week of February, I was sent to San Diego to do further training. During this time, however, I broke my ankle while playing basketball. That didn't keep me and a few of my buds from partying at the Tijuana, Mexico night clubs, though. Those were indeed some truly fun times.

During that time, I became discontent with the military. Well, not really the military. I was loathing my decision to spend four years in the military, when what I really wanted to do; what I finally felt ready to do was to go to college, get my undergraduate degree and then finally to medical school. This is what I had wanted to do since high school, anyway. So, even though I was sick and had some mental illness (you know, the depersonalizatin and derealizaiton thing) I feigned being overly depressed and trapped. Eventually, they let me out. I got an honorable discharge. But I wasn't recommended for reenlistment any time soon. That was fine by me. I didn't plan on being back, unless it was as an officer.

So in the middle of April, I was bussed back to the home town. Mom picked me up at Vilport. All I had was what I had carried topside with me. Everything else was lost some where. Still haven't recovered those. The money, about eight hundred dollars, I had sent home for mom to save for me so I could get a car came up missing, too. Well, not actually missing. It came up borrowed without my permission. I had sent it home so I could get a car when I got back. With only a couple hundred bucks on me, I had to settle for the first piece of shit trash car that I thought might actually get me somewhere. God, I hate her. She screwed me over, again.

At this point she and her husband were still together. She had been seeing him since mid 92 I think. They got married a month or two before I left for the navy. This guy was, and probably still is, a big jerk. Meanest little fucker you'll ever see. I like to call him, El' Moron. This guy used to run the streets of Clovil, almost nude, and all drunk.

In fact, one time (this was way before mom had even known this creep) I was driving down main street (this was not long after my mental breakdown) and he in his cut off jean shorts, shirtless and shoeless, lunged out to my car like a dancing fucking faerie and I edged my 81 Mercury Capri over toward the center line just a little. His fingers popped against the door frame of my car. Ouch! I'm sure that had to hurt. Yeah, I felt a little bad about it. But the stupid SOB deserved it, believe me! Of course, he was too drunk to remember anything.

Needless to say, I wanted out of that situation at my moms house as soon as possible. I sent in all my paperwork, applications, etc. for admissions to the local university in Capeston, Missouri. It wasn't too far from home and familiarity, just about an hour and a half's drive time.