Yep, it was Monday again in all it's glory.
I arrived at the Red River Army Depot in TX to find a two hour wait, standing in line, just to get a pass. WTF?
After I finally got my pass I returned to my truck just to pull into line for the security inspection. This was a joke as I could have easily hidden a few pounds of C4 on my truck and they wouldn't have spotted it.
I went to the building they indicated. By this time they were all at lunch and I had to wait for them to return. They eventually came back from lunch (they didn't actually go anywhere they simply refused to work) and informed me that I needed to go to a different building to be unloaded.
I got to the other building and discovered that those folks were now at lunch. I waited yet again for the infamous lunch break to end. I then was informed that I had to go to yet another building to be unloaded. At this point I was not a happy camper and cut loose on the guy. I expressed my less than pleased attitude in all of it's glory. He told me in that way that only civil servants can, that it wasn't his fault but that's the way it is. Uh huh, sure. I let him know that if I had to move the truck one more time after this that I was going to come back and express my angst all over his face. (It was the same bastard that told me I had to wait until they came back from lunch)
I moved to this location and sure enough the idiots, I mean the customers, were ready to unload me. Sadly, they didn't have the right sized forklift even though they knew perfectly well what I was delivering. Yet another wait.
I was there for four hours for a delivery that should have taken no more than 30 minutes. I was ready to skin someone alive. I left there with a less than rosy attitude.
I fought my way through traffic and wandered down in the general direction of Houston. After a while I decided to stop at the next truckstop or fuel stop I found. I pulled off the interstate and while pulling in I noticed a cinder block building with the words "Private Club" and "Hamburgers" painted on it. Perfect. I parked my rig and went inside. I was correct, it was in fact a bar. I settled onto a barstool and ordered a cold beer.
After several cold ones and an order of chicken wings, I was starting to relax. The bartender, while not exactly pretty, was not so bad to look at. She had strawberry blonde hair, a decent figure, and was wearing a shirt that was buttoned in such a way as to arouse the curiosity of any man who wasn't into other men. I was enjoying myself and trying to forget the day's bullshit.
As time and beers passed more people came in, including several of the local young ladies. Me, being me, conversed with a few of these new folks of the female persuasion. I was never less than a gentleman but I suppose one of the local corn fed young men felt threatened by my jokes or something and decided to let his displeasure be known not only to me but to the whole bar.
We sparred verbally for a moment or two and once he realized that he was losing badly he decided to get physical and took a swing at me. Now, at this point I'd had a few beers so my reflexes were less than optimal. His swing did catch my left ear as I was a tad too slow to completely avoid it and I am not ashamed to say that it hurt like hell.
I reacted with an uppercut to his jaw. I was a bit surprised that he was only staggered but still on his feet. I am not bragging here but there are few men who are still standing after I connect with them. We danced a bit at that point and traded a few blows. We even wound up grappling on the floor for a moment before I broke free and got back to my feet an instant before the young buck did the same.
As he was attempting to throw another punch I shot a quick left jab at his collar bone (I am sure it broke) and followed up with a knee to the groin that dropped him like a sack of potatoes. The entire fight took up less than a minute or so of real time.
I noticed that the bartender was on the phone and it didn't take a genius to figure out who she was calling. I tossed a 20 on the bar, told her to keep the change, grabbed my jacket, and split back to my truck while the young local was still rolling around on the floor.
Somewhere along the way I think I broke my right thumb. It hurts like hell and is going to make my work days somewhat miserable for a while, I think.
I'm getting way too old for this shit.