June 10, 2012 by Kim
My co-workers and I are encouraged by our employer to refer to ourselves as “Civilian Marines”
I have always felt kind of odd about claiming that title, though…
While it’s true that I AM a civilian…. and I DO work on a Marine Base, that title just doesn’t feel deserved.
and more often than not, if the title is brought up in conversation… I will be mistaken for a REAL Marine.
Whoooooaaaaa. Hold up there.
I am NOT a real Marine.
I could explain the obvious…. that I wouldn’t last a milli-second in boot camp, but you know what… I’m going to take it a step further and throw some real honesty at you…. I wouldn’t even last the damned bus trip TO the boot camp…
No, I am not a real Marine… but, I support them
One of the oddities in the Government world is the occurrence known as the “Buy-Out”
If the staffing needs to be thinned out, they’ll make an offer that’s difficult to refuse….all that’s wanted in return, is your
soul … I mean, retirement papers
As of the 1st of June, the Buy-Out struck a little too close to home and claimed a member of my very own team.
The current Buy-Out sunk it’s venomous teeth firmly into our fearless leader, Ti
…and now Ti is gone
There are many rumors circulating… regarding the offer that could have tempted Ti away from our close-knit little team…
It’s been said that he walked away with an awesome severance package, to include the following: $226.00, all the left-over paint from the Union parking spaces, a sandwich baggy full of Barstow Del Taco hot sauces, 598 feet of fuel line, all the medium coffee cup lids from the cafeteria, a lifetime subscription to the Porcelain Press, the window flap to the “Limo-Cart” (complete with our Branch Head’s nose imprint), a ball point pen, a voucher to change his last name (free of charge) to that of his
slightly completely more prestigious sister “C”, a box of individually packaged ear plugs and a 10 dollar gift card for Zynga Games on Facebook.
Pretty sweet deal, if I do say so myself…
However, I have to admit… I am not happy about losing our team-mate
Not even a little bit.
~~~~Flash-back wavy lines~~~~
When I was first informed that I would be working alongside Ti… I honestly knew nothing of him.
However, a certain… reputation preceded him. Within hours of our pairing the muffled warnings began. As I would walk down cubicle row, I would hear whispers coming from deep inside its walls… Be Careful…. Watch your back… Good luck.
What the hell had I just gotten myself into, I remember thinking.
As we began to work together the truth eventually showed itself…
I wasn’t an idiot… and he wasn’t Satan
and from there an awesome friendship was formed.
I learned a lot about Ti, during our time together, on the team…
I learned that he’s held ever job possible under the sun. He’s been a cop, a trapeze artist, a preschool teacher, a Sears sweater-vest model, a Navy Seal, the stunt double for Clark Gable, a McDonald’s crew leader, the paint brush washer/dryer for Bob Ross, a mid-wife and he has manned one of the sample kiosks at Costco. you name it, Ti has done it…
When Hubs was about 7 or 8 years old, he flew across a road… while riding his bike. Hubs did not look both ways. Hubs and his bike got demolished by a traveling motor home. Ti was driving the motor home….
I kid, I kid… but Ti did happen to see the accident and was the person that called 911
Losing Ti is definitely going to take some getting used to… While I won’t ever have to listen to him clip his nails, across the cubicle hall, again… who am I going to turn to when I leave my spare socks at home and need them when I change into my steel toe shoes… who is going to tell me which parts of the compound have working generators when the power goes out and it’s 130 degrees… who’s going to spot me the cash to attend a luncheon, when payday is 11 days away… shit, who’s going to pay for me to go to HIS luncheon… who’s going to take up half of my and DT’s mini-fridge with multiple Wal Mart bags, each containing one Tupperware container…. who’s going to bring in 45 pounds of trail mix and not even bat an eye when I’ve demolished it in 1 afternoon of “stress-eating” … who’s going to fail to introduce me to the big-wigs from the East Coast…. who’s going to make the phone calls I don’t want to make…. who’s going to try to coerce me to go walking at lunch everyday, even though they know I’m always going to snort a laugh and mumble an obscenity followed by the word “no”…
This is really going to take some getting used to…
A long time ago, when I referred to him merely as “T” he was warned that every time he screwed up, I was going to add another letter to his name.
T became Ti with very little effort, on his part.
However, I believe now that Ti has finally earned the third and final letter… but not out of anger.
Out of friendship…
Tim, you’re going to be missed by ALL of us! Happy Retirement, old friend!