I'm naturally a night owl. Like.... since day fucking one. When I was a kid, I'd always be waking up in the middle of the night and exploring around and climbing about. Back when I was a civilian, in fact, I would often use the chirping of birds in the morning as my alarm clock to go to bed. I still keep this tradition alive, but only on weekends, leave, and 96s. So around 4am on saturday morning when I went to bed, all was well.
But lets skip forward around 6-7 hours. I woke up because Jason called to ask me something about uniforms. God that's a shitty way to wake up on a saturday. First, you need to clear the fog in order to figure out what the fuck is going on, and then on top of it, you need to search through all of the mental debris that makes the rubble from the oklaholma city bombing look like a high school prank.
So he calls, asks me a question fucked up enough for me to have to fully wake up and get out of bed to answer, thus ruining my ability to go back to sleep. And this, my friends and gentile readers, is where I got tooled. I was no longer able to sleep, so I took my morning piss, but when I turned the lights on in the bathroom, nothing happend. No flicker, no flash of light followed by nothingness. Not a god damn thing, to be exact. Nay, I was forced to pee in the dark. Not a big deal, I've pissed in porta-johns in iraq for months, so I'm a natural at it. So I get irritated because as far as I am concerned, a light burned out, or our lightswitch died again.
So I wander to the kitchen/sink area, and again, I turn the light switch.
Nothing.
I turn on the computer monitor. Nada.
Check my laptop. Dead.
So dazed and confused, I wander outside to look to see if it's just us. Nope - everyone got fucked.
The timeframe of the outage varied on who you asked. At first I heard it was 1300, but that came and left sans fanfare. Then I next heard that it was at 1900: Fuck!. My roommate and I decided it was time for a movie to pass the time, and Superman was going to fit the bill. After an interesting
faux-moonlight shower, I was ready to go, and we fentured in the direction of the theater. A theater, my friends, of lies and false hope.
Superman was nowhere to be found. Not unlike a Paulie Shore movie, Clark Kent had only managed to fill us with levels of dissapointment and dismay not witnessed since Fox decided to make a second season of
The Simple Life.
With that being said, we went with our second choice, Pirates of the Carribean 2.
Let me say that, although it's not a bad movie, it does make you feel as if it prematurely ended. Almost as if the director just didnt feel like working, and said "Cut!" in order to get a three-day weekend. Now, I realize that they have already filmed the 3rd movie, and the 2nd one is designed to build up for the 3rd film, but still. If I remember correctly, the 2nd Matrix movie has more closure than Pirates 2. Oh well... we can always hope that the final installment is filled with grandeur, and discover for ourselves next year.
Anyway, 1830 rolls around and we got out and retuned to the barracks. That was the slowest hour ever. We just sat there bored as fuck, and debated whether or not we should just swan dive off of 3rd deck onto the grass/pavement below.
If I ever see those electritians again, I'm going to boot them in the nuts .
