Friday, December 12, 2014

My pure-D Civilian Hubby

I am a 23-year veteran BRAT.  I am also a 23-year USAF Veteran.  Only five years of my almost 60 was spent as a non-Card-carrying civilian.  I was no longer eligible to use my dad's G.I. Bill, so no more school but that was okay.  I became an administrative pro and entered the city's work force until I could stand it no more.  No travelling, no Exchange, no Commissary, no esprit de corps that I was used to, I had to learn a new language but I prevailed.  (The Southern accents and drawls here is a language of its own.)  So off to the military I went. 

Fast forward to Aug 2014.  Shortly after turning 59, I got married again, but this time to a pure-D civilian.  Totally.  Absolutely.  No former experience whatsoever.  After three years of dating, I figured that I could do this, even though this was a relationship that was like no other I ever had before - with a civilian.  His name is Rick.  Bless his heart.  We had actually met long ago when he was a minor and I was an adult, so dating was out of the question back then.  

The first thing to do with my newly gained dependent was get ID Cards issued, so we went to my old Base, the 164 AW, back to some of my old buddies and the first time Rick actually went into any offices on base.  (I took him to a Family Day there once.)  When he was issued his brown ID Card, he was like a 10-year old finally being of age to get one issued.    He showed it off to some friends that night.  He even showed it off to his father the next day.  

A few weeks later, we did the first-of-the-month trip to the Navy Base in Millington - to the Exchange, the Package Store, the Commissary, and then to the Mini Mart for fuel and a drink.  All us Retirees usually run into each other there because everybody takes the same route in shopping, so I got to introduce new hubby to plenty of military folks.  I first had to go over a few rules of the military parking lot and Reserved Spaces.  We had to park the truck in the lot across the street from the Exchange but I also taught him that R.H.I.P., and that I, a lowly MSgt, do not get a Reserved Space.

Rick was in awe over the Exchange and their selections of goods (and most of their prices).  He was more in awe over the electronics side of the Exchange, which was fine with me because I got to stroll up and down all the aisles, even the ones where I didn't need anything.  But then, when you enter our Navy Exchange, you feel like you're walking into Macy's.  It's pretty nice.    

Did I say Rick was in awe over the Package Store?  That's an understatement.  He's a Bud Light guy, I'm a Lambrusco girl.  At our neighborhood warehouse liquor store and with my 10% military discount, their prices sure don't beat what we pay at the Package Store.  And the German wines at prices I can afford!  Rick now hates buying his beer at our local stores when he knows he's paying almost twice as much for less than half.  

The Commissary.  All of us who know, know what the Commissary is like.  There is no other grocery store like the Commissary.  After I gave him more tools of the trade and rules in the Commissary, he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray (I already told him the rules about butts.) and he entered another world.  And I ran into another retiree friend and did the introductions and pleasantries.  My friend told hubby a couple of War Stories we were involved in that were funny as heck.  We hugged after we caught up on families (his oldest son is AD USA, 2nd tour.  I've known him since he was 10 years old.) and then we parted.  I got to tell hubby a couple of funny stories and I know he didn't quite get it, but he got it.  $400 later, the back seat of the truck is packed, things tossed in the truck bed, and 5 hours later we have one last stop before making the trip home.   But first, Rick turns and give the bagger/packer a couple of dollars for her help. 

The Mini Mart/Gas Station.  Fuel to make the trek home.  Fuel for the truck (at the same prices fuel is sold in the civ sector), fuel for us, and lo and behold, an old military friend that I hadn't seen in over a decade.  Did the intros and then babbled as we do.  Rick smoked a cigarette in the truck as we quickly caught up on former-spouses and grown up children, then a big hug and bye.  Jump in the truck and then we're On The Road Again.

Rick said that he has never in his life had that much groceries bought at one time much less ever packed it like it was in the truck, and he's got a big truck. 

Backing into the driveway it dawns on Rick how many bags of stuff we've got to take in and then put away.  Put away - oh no! That's another hour's work since most everything in the refrigerator and freezer has to be rearranged to accommodate the new stuff.  The canned goods in the cabinets are reorganized as is all the other cabinets, pantry, storage room, laundry room, bathrooms, spare freezer, and closets to take on more stuff.  Labels out.  Everything has its place and goes to its place.  After all the paper bags and plastic bags are put in their places, we chill for a while because a long day has been put in.  

Rick was in awe of what we are/were entitled to being a BRAT and/or a military member.  With me, he has found another Tribe of people that he thinks pretty well of.  Just like I have found that his Tribe of people are pretty cool; just very different.  And for the most part, that's okay.  I'm just still trying to learn their tribal Southern drawl.      

  

         

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