Chapter 12: Oh the creatures the Corps hoards...

Being 5’9 has its advantages. I am able to reach the top shelf at the grocery store. I don’t have to sit on my legs to see above the person in front of me during a movie and I can see over the steering wheel. Yes, being tall is great, unless you are dating a person who is shorter than you. Then you just feel like Amazon woman next to him. I hated dated a person who was shorter than me for that reason.
However, I did meet a Marine who was a tad shorter than me. Three-inches to be exact. It sucked as I couldn’t wear heels around him and I hated standing next to him. In addition to my frizzy hair, pale skin and big ears, I also had hairy arms so I truly felt like Amazon Woman (side note: When I was a kid, my sister told me that swimmer’s shaved their body hair off in order to swim faster. Since I had a kiddie pool in the backyard, I thought that I could swim better if I did the same thing. Let’s just say, I was the only second grader with no body hair, including half an eyebrow. I looked like a human sphynx at the age of 8). Go me!
To this day, I have no idea what drew me to this Marine. He was short and hailed from Thibodeaux, LA and was as back door country as they come. I thought he was normal at first, but then once I met momma bear, oh Sweet Baby Jesus, what did I get myself into?
Clue number one that this guy was a loser was when I first saw where he lived. The place was a total wreck. I couldn’t imagine someone living in chaos. He was the epitome of a hoarder/white trailer trash (and he lived in a trailer). One Saturday while he was on duty, I cleaned the whole trailer from top to bottom as I was afraid to even walk in the door. The nastiness that I saw should have driven me away.
I remained in the relationship like a champ (or maybe a chump; let me ponder that one), until his mom came up to visit. I came over for lunch the day she came in. We were sitting at the table and she told me were having gumbo. I was thinking a little Cajun shrimp gumbo or something like that. She put the plate in front of my face and the meat looked a little odd. When I ask her what it was, she told me that she found a dead squirrel in the backyard so she cooked it up. That was the last time I stepped foot into that trailer. I swear the theme song from Deliverance was playing in the background. That night, she treated us to Chinese food. Her idea of a buffet was for everybody to load up their plates when they were done eating and slide the food into Ziploc bags. I wanted to run from these crazy folk, but I drove them there so I couldn’t leave them. Why me?
I couldn’t break up with him just yet as I still needed a date for the Marine Corps Ball. Common sense should have told me that I could have gone by myself. I was in the Color Guard, so I easily could have just left after the ceremony, but no, I took loser boy with me. And then he wanted to dance. Thank God I was wearing corframs and not heels. I felt eyeballs all over me when we slow danced because I was half-a-head taller than him. I couldn’t wait for that night to end.
The next night was his unit’s Ball, so I actually bought a dress to go to it, so I still couldn’t dump him. I wanted to rock the dress, too. Too bad I failed to try on the dress prior to buying it and ended up buying a dress one size too small, but I wore it anyway. Let’s just say, it was a tad tight. However, couldn’t look any worse than me wearing a formal dress in FLATS. Damn midget…
I still didn’t have the heart to break up with him as my birthday was a week or so away and he told me he had plans made to celebrate it before I went home on leave. Not being able to break his heart, I put up with him for another a week. His big birthday plans? Sitting at his house, eating the leftover gumbo that his mom froze in the freezer and watching MTV. Yep, I was home within 20 minutes and that Chow Hall meal couldn’t have tasted any better. Two days later, I left him a voicemail on my way to the airport telling him to never contact me again. He called me every 15 minutes at my parent’s house while I was on leave. Why didn’t he listen?
Lesson to be learned: Unless you want to end up on Redneck Weddings, stay away from people who enjoy eating road kill for dinner. After that relationship, I couldn’t bear to eat anywhere with Cajun food as the thought of squirrel gumbo crossed my mind. I couldn’t even watch the Rocky and Bullwinkle show anymore without imagining little Rocky in my bowl of gumbo.
What's sad to admit, is that he wasn't the worst person that I dated. The Marine Corps hoarded some of the oddest male creatures and somehow...I found them.


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