The gentleman is a 5'10 180 lb white male with watery blue eyes. He's here training other soldiers on the finer points of tank manuvering.
He's think I'm smart.
Dear Sir,
I loathe you.
Your propensity to view me as your dating guru, potential fuck interest, sex object, captive audience, and lastly/leastly bringer of food and beverage speaks measures of your ideals regarding power differentials.
Your explanation for being drawn to the police/army professsion makes sense. You like being in charge.
After I avoided the bar area for three hours you finally got the hint that you would only get beer and food from me. That's right. Not paid to be a counselor, your bff, or your confidante. I would have been happy to if you had shown one glimmer of personality but that's a whole 'nother conversation.
I can't tell you the measure of relief I experienced after you finally drained the last swallow of Coldsmoke from the pint glass that probably tasted delicious even though it was the temperature of your sweaty hands.
The best part ? Even after providing pretty impeccable service, the bastard leaves a 5 % tip.
Further cementing in my mind: fuck tha police.
