Stealth Bomber

For one year, I had the absolute pleasure of serving the U.S. Air Force at R.A.F. Lakenheath in England.

Not as an Airman though, I was a contracted barber. Making sure the Airmen and government service workers looked good and keeping their hair up to regulations was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.

As a side perk, I traveled around England on my days off. I love history and England provided its fair share to explore.

Also, having been in the Army and not completing my enlistment on honorable terms, this job gave me some satisfaction in providing a service to the military. It made me feel like I was able to support the people who defend the world from oppression and tyranny.

The Barber Shop

The barber shop was small. There were four cutting stations, a register, a row of chairs for customers to sit in while waiting for their appointments, a t.v., a closet, a bathroom and that is it. I worked side by side with three other barbers; an English woman, a Scottish woman and an American woman whose husband was stationed at the base.

We worked on a very tight schedule and our system was pretty efficient. Each of us had to churn out a haircut in seven minutes. This ensured being able to check out the finished haircut at the register and squeeze a walk-in between the fifteen minute scheduled appointments.

If we got backed up, we scheduled a “ghost” appointment named Frederico. We thought it was highly unlikely that anyone would come in by that name. This allowed for a time bubble to get caught up. Every once in awhile one of my co-workers forgot he was a “ghost” and would shout out, “Federico, you are next!”

Each of us would take a turn sweeping up all the hair accumulating on the floor. We also took turns answering the phone when guys called to make appointments. It was a pretty crazy routine and the only break we got was a half hour lunch.

The Clients

Most of the guys came in once a week to keep within regulation. Because the Air Force draws its members from all fifty states as well as some many countries, our clientele was extremely diverse.

There were even different types of Airmen. Within the Officer Corps, there were: lawyers, doctors, dentists, and of course pilots. With Enlisted Airmen, there were: mechanics, technicians, services providers, security and many other positions, too many to list.

We had so many great conversations and work was a lot of fun.

However, there was this one guy…

Surprise Attack

Unbeknownst to us, as we went about our busy day, a lone figure slinked into the bathroom from the back door of the shop. After spending some quality time in there, he would slink back out.

After a few moments of the bathroom door being open, we unsuspectingly had our senses assaulted by a scent of sulfuric decay.

At first, we resorted to the common rule; the first one who smelled it, dealt it…

This did not go over well with the English woman. She was the closest to the bathroom and took the brunt of the fumigation. She however, did not want to claim it. As the smell of rotting sewage traveled across the barber shop each one of us denied that we created the stench.

It was a mystery.

The next day, the same thing happened. No one saw the figure come in, tear up the bathroom and leave. We did however smell the familiar cloud of stink that permeated the shop.

What was going on?

It was like being hit by a stealth bomber.

Vigilance

On the third day, we paid close attention. This time we caught the Airman slipping into the bathroom to drop his biological weapon and escape without suffering from the aftershock.

Maybe it was because of the camouflaged uniform that we didn’t notice him before. Or maybe it was his military training that made it possible to slip in and out unnoticed. But, when you cause that much damage, you can’t keep coming back to the same target without the defense forces being prepared for the next attack.

On the fourth day, his flyby did not go unnoticed and almost seemed a bit brazen. After tearing up the bathroom with his chemical waste dump, I swear he left wearing MOPP gear. This is protective gear used by U.S. military personnel in a toxic environment, e.g., during a chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear strike.

What topped it off, is that we all realized…

He NEVER got his haircut…

None of us recognized him as one of our clients. It was as if his sole mission was a daily bombing run on the barber shop and go on his merry way.

Something had to stop because we were running out of clean air.

Defensive Maneuvers

I decided to make a sign and place it on the door. Copying a picture of the infamous B-2 Spirit aircraft I attached the text, “Don’t be a stealth bomber!”

I figured, the next time the perpetrator came into the barber shop, he would be affected by our psychological warfare. He had to recognize, that the sign was directed towards him and that his cover was blown.

On the fifth day, as stealth bomber flew in to obliterate his target, he encountered the sign, pulled an evasive maneuver and was never seen again.

At least not in our bathroom…

It’s a good thing, because we were seriously considering purchasing MOPP gear for all of the barbers.

Have you ever dealt with a Stealth Bomber?

Stealth Bomber (Click to Tweet)

If you want to read more Humorous Life Lessons click on the link below.

Humorous Life Lessons

Flipping my Lid

Describing me as a high strung individual, is a fairly accurate description.

I tend to move about pretty quickly. Most of the time, I run around in what you might call, a state of panic.

Unless I sit down, then I instantly pass out.

During the day, I often feel as if the entire world is crashing down around me. If I can complete just one of the many tasks I need to do, the entire universe settles in a sense of order and accomplishment.

Alarm

When my alarm clock goes of in the morning, I eject from the bed so violently that it freaks my wife out every time. It’s as if there is an intruder or the house is burning down. I somehow go from the prone position to standing in front of the alarm clock without even knowing what happened. The worst is when my arms are asleep and I try to turn off the alarm with dead hands.

Zero to Ninety

The problem with being wound this tight is, that I can go from zero to ninety mph in a nano-second. This means, there are many little irritants that can quickly set me off.

Here is a short list;

• Music being played too loud. — Turn it down, turn it down…
• The crinkling of plastic wrap during a movie. — The absolute worst.
• Repetitive noises. — Like the kick, kick, kick on the back of your seat when driving.
• The sound of a child crying. — Pretty sure all men deal with this one.
• Traffic. — Cars should never be stopped on the road, but in a constant state of motion.
• A busy signal when calling someone. — Really… in this day and age of technology?

Lids

The quickest way to get my blood to boil is to send me to search for a lid in the cabinet where the plastic containers are stored.

Before I even head it that direction, I know that the lid I need will either be buried in the back or it is no longer in existence. The closer I get to the cabinet, the more steam starts to build up inside of me, just like a tea kettle.

To maintain a positive attitude, I remind myself, there is a .000000000001% chance that the lid I need will be right there in the front.

Even though I know what I’m getting into, I still open the door and peer in. As I stare into the abyss of various shaped plastic containers, I can hear them mocking me saying, “Go ahead, just try to find my matching lid.”

Remain Calm

Trying to remain calm, I reach in behind the smaller containers into the biggest container that holds the lids. Since I am unable to see behind the containers, I use my sense of touch. Fumbling around the lids, I keep looking for the one…

Of course, every lid I can feel is too big, small or the wrong shape all together.

As I quickly pull my hand out in frustration, I usually knock over all the stacked containers spilling them out onto the floor.

DEFCON 1

At this point, I reach DEFCON 1 and just pull all of the rest of the containers out everywhere. If you happen to be standing behind me, I resemble a dog trying to dig it’s way to China.

Once the cabinet is essentially empty, the one lid in question usually magically appears.

I usually say, “There you are you little whippersnapper.” or something close to that…

Solution

I’ve heard of container organizers. Someone sent me a pin of one on Pinterest. I also heard the technique of putting lids on the containers before storing them. I think this takes up more space instead of nesting them together. However, this only works when you have all the lids.

Why are there always 10 of one size container but only one matching lid?

I feel like my only option at this point is scorched earth…

No, I don’t mean burn the kitchen down, I mean throw all the containers away and start over.

What is the trigger that flips your lid?

Flipping My Lid (Click to Tweet)

If you want to read more Humorous Life Lessons click on the link below.

Humorous Life Lessons

Fifth Pocket and Scarred for Life

On most pairs of jeans there are five pockets.

Two located on the back, two in the front and then that little one that you usually find nestled inside the right front pocket. I never really understood what that little pocket was for but when I saw what she did, I was scarred for life.

Boys vs. Girls

Now most boys in the fourth grade think girls are gross and I’m sure the feeling is mutual. This may not be true for everyone, but when I was that age, this was a reality. When I say gross, it really means that boys don’t understand girls. They usually just dismiss them to continue doing boy stuff.

Many men never outgrow this stage of life.

There is hope though, because people write books on this topic.

Two Types of People

Anyways, I always say there are two types of people; people who pick their nose and people who lie about picking their nose. However, people who do it in public area mystery to me. It’s impossible to miss when someone is fully engaged in the act. It’s not a graceful task.

In my class there was a girl, lets call her Grace…

The Excavation

Every day, she rooted up in her nose hardcore. She must not have been able to breathe with the ferocity that she engaged her nostrils. Her face contorted in to what looked like excruciating pain. One eye always slammed shut and the other, so wide open, I’m sure she hit her brain with every twist, turn and jab of her finger.

After the extraction, she viewed her treasure for a few moments and then nonchalantly slid the nasal nugget into that tiny, fifth pocket on her jeans. You could tell she was putting it there because she dug her heels into the ground, jerked her head in reverse and lifted her hind end off the seat in sort of an instantaneous rigormortis. I’m sure it was to release the tension that it took to get that pocket open.

This went on for what seemed like an eternity. She kept going into her nasal cavities for further excavations like a miner looking for diamonds. For some reason, her actions kept my attention. I just kept watching, wondering if it would ever end.

Eventually the class broke for lunch with recess to follow. The usual, “boys rule, girls drool” type activity ensued and I was able to forget the distracting display that I witnessed in the classroom.

After Lunch

Upon returning to class, we had some sort of lesson that I don’t remember.

I probably don’t remember because as my eyes scanned the classroom, there was Grace…

She was trying to get two fingers at a time into the little pocket. This took some force and it was hard to miss with all the wiggling in her chair. She seemed to be paying attention to the teacher which meant, whatever she was doing was on auto-pilot. Once she got her fingertips in there, she removed them and instantly placed them in her mouth.

Once I realized what happened, my stomach turned, churned, twisted and I became several shades of green with nausea.

She was consuming her mornings work, that she had stored in the fifth pocket.

What was happening?

Why would she do that?

Did she not get enough food for lunch?

Concentrating on what the teacher was saying became impossible, because I couldn’t look away from Grace’s after lunch snack session. I don’t remember what my grades were like in this class but they couldn’t have been good.

To this day, I still have vivid flashbacks of this moment.

Research…

Come to find out, there is scientific evidence that what Grace did is beneficial to your health. I guess the bacteria found in your nose candy can boost your immune system. Read this article to find out > Booger Eating Study

How did they discover this?

Who are they doing this research on?

How in God’s green Earth do you get someone to apply for this?

Maybe Grace’s habit put her ahead of her time?

But no. Just, no.

I don’t know what you think, but I am convinced, this was not the intended use for that little pocket.

Tell me about a time you saw something that you can’t unsee.

Fifth Pocket and Scarred for Life (Click to Tweet)

If you want to read more Humorous Life Lessons click on the link below.

Humorous Life Lessons