What are Friends For? Part 2
Nick and Will
Many of you have read the trials and tribulations of our friend Will from one of our first stories, What are Friends For? In that saga, we chronicle Will’s time at Ranger School…after we sent him a bunch of explicit pictures and sex toys.
At that point, many people wrote in and said things like, “Ok, you need to leave that guy alone now – he’s had enough!” And for a little while, we were on board with that. After all, shortly after Will graduated, he deployed to Iraq where he is currently leading soldiers in combat…we shouldn’t be giving him crap, right?
Why social networking sites will destroy you…
I don’t like Myspace or Facebook or any of these sites very much, but everyone else seems to, so I have pages on all of them. I don’t go out of my way to “friend” people, yet I have something like 400 friends on each. I am not sure I have ever met 400 people…but I digress.
The funny thing about these sites is that people will post very personal pictures or stories for all of their “friends” to see, thinking that these things will somehow remain private…
No shit, there I was…
Minding my own business on a Saturday morning when all of a sudden I notice that Will uploaded some new pictures. I click over, and lo and behold, Will is half-naked in all of these pictures with an attractive young lady wrapped around his waist. I then realize he is in tights and that I am looking at pictures from some sort of ballet that Will is involved in (he would later stand up for himself by saying it was not ballet, but a dance troupe – nice work Will). Immediately, I affix the following note to the picture:
Will, I have no choice but to print this out hundreds of times and send it to all of your guys…
Shortly thereafter, Will deployed to the sandbox. Brad, Dave and I decided to send his guys some shirts. Will, a big fan of Ranger Up, loved all of our shirts except for the Kerry one, which he always felt was too political. As such, we included several of those and taped dozens of copies of the photo inside each one, so the pictures could only be found by the guy who was going to try it on.
Now some people might think that embarrassing a new platoon leader in front of his soldiers during a deployment is a bad thing, and those people are probably right, but they have to admit it is funny as shit. (That rhymed!)
We’ll let Will take it from here…
So the semi-lovable dickheads at Ranger Up have struck again…
Before we delve into their second attempt at sabotaging my military career, I want to clarify a few things. I’m not a ballerina (or “ballerino,” or whatever the masculine form of ‘ballerina’ is, if there is such a thing) nor have I ever been a ballerina. I used to date a chick who danced in this salsa group at school. The salsa group, I’ll be honest, was really hot (the chicks and the moves). I got really jealous and I wanted to learn how to do it. (Editor’s Note: That’s what she said!) So I took a few dance lessons and tried out for the group and miraculously made the ‘team.’ Anyhow, the chick was now history at this point and the salsa skills were definitely proving very handy. I’m not embarrassed to say I danced on a salsa team. It was awesome, the chicks were smoking, and I had a lot of fun. Yes, I realize that sounds a little fruity, but it was absolutely worth it. I don’t care how many people mock me – I don’t regret it at all. And, no, I’m not being defensive.
So anyhow, during the salsa group’s annual ‘exhibition’ / big performance, some photographs were taken of one of our more… creative… dances. It wasn’t exactly a salsa dance. The photographs could, to the untrained eye, be confused for ballet. Not that there is anything wrong with ballet – I’ve just never done ballet. I made the mistake, as I often do, of posting a few of these pictures on the internet and thought nothing of it for more than a year. The picture was kind of odd looking, yeah, but not a big deal. Or so I thought…
You can lead a horse to water…
I should have been tipped off with Nick commented on one of the photographs I posted. Just like I should have been tipped off when Nick said, “I’m going to send you gay porn while you’re at Ranger School.” In one ear and out the other. I’ve got to start paying better attention to the warning signs.
Fast-forward to a few months into my deployment to Baghdad: I’ve taken over a platoon in country and I’m loving life (within reason). Brad says he wants to send my whole platoon Ranger Up t-shirts and I’m like “Awesome!” I have a Ranger Up sticker on my computer and everyone always asks me what it is. I tell them it’s my friends’ company – they make cool t-shirts. What can I say? I’m a big fan of the company.
So the t-shirts arrive and I have a great time passing them out to my paratroopers. They’re all excited and I feel cool to have been given the t-shirts and to be able to hand out some nifty gifts. Brad and Nick, even though they knew I never really liked the t-shirt, made sure to include several of the “Nobody Likes John Kerry” line (which, in hindsight, was genius on their part because they knew I wouldn’t want anything to do with anything overtly political).
No such thing as a free lunch…(or t-shirt)
Next thing I know, as I’m passing through our living quarters, my platoon’s looking at me and snickering behind my back. “What the hell’s going on?” I thought. Finally, one of my soldiers, PFC Prigge, says to me, “Hey, sir, I didn’t know you did ballet.” And I was like, “Ballet? I never did ballet. What the hell are you talking about?” And of course, there is the picture: me twirling an old college friend of mine in an awkward maneuver that looks almost like a standing Reverse Cow-Girl. “Where did you get that picture?” I asked.
“It came with my Ranger Up t-shirt,” he says.
“Well, whatever. Cool. I did some Salsa dancing in college. Not ballet. Big difference.” I felt it was important to make that distinction perfectly clear.
The next mistake I made, after assuming that Ranger Up would just ‘donate’ some t-shirts without any strings attached and attempting to defend my ‘dancing background’ and foolishly trying to salvage what remained of my man-hood, was thinking that Nick and Brad only included 1 picture of my ‘ballet dance.’
The next morning, I walk out of my room and pictures of the strained look on my face and half naked body in a blatantly not-Salsa maneuver are posted all over the barracks. I walk down to the Company CP and there I am again. I walk into the Battalion TOC… and guess who’s dancing for everyone to point and laugh?
I made half-hearted attempts to defend myself:
“Well, LT, did it at least help you get laid?”
“Oh yeah. Totally. All the time. On the daily. Fo shizzle, in fact. I had so much sex because of my salsa dancing it’s outrageous.”
No one bought it, though, because they all think I’m a virgin.
My one saving grace was Lori. If she hadn’t been hot, then I’d have been in serious trouble. Upon closer examination, most passer-bys would ask, “Wait… are you having sex with that hot chick?”
“Well, no, but she is hot.
“Did you do ballet?”
“Are you gay?”
“What the fuck, man?”
“You can’t answer a question with another question.”
“No, I’m not gay, jackass.”
“Well, whatever. Yeah, she’s hot. Good work, sir. Sex in public. Kinky.”
Once again, I’d like to pass on to my good Ranger Up friends a sincere and hearty “I hate you and go fuck yourselves.”
Copyright of Nick and Will