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Another dream where I re-enlist in the military, this time on the grounds that it’s steady work.
I’m told to report to a medical facility at midnight for the physical check-up, as we’ll be shipping out in the morning. I’m also told the physical involves a “tapeworm” test that involves swallowing a tapeworm which is then somehow pulled from my stomach and through my intestines and out the other end. It doesn’t sound pleasant, but they assure me it’s worth doing at my age.
“Cleans out the pipes,” says the receptionist.
After various activities and preparations, I arrive at the facility for the physical. Every room is cordoned off by white curtains. I am asked to change into hospital pajamas, which are made of transparent white mesh that leave little to the imagination.
The nurse leads me to a cubicle to give the urine sample. I have brought one already, but she wants me to pour it into a jar that she hands me. She leaves me alone, and I open the jar to find it’s already half full of someone else’s urine. I’m not sure what to do, but I figure she must have known the jar wasn’t empty when she gave it to me. I figure maybe they have a way to test urine even if it’s mixed with someone else’s. So I hedge my bets and pour half my sample in, saving the rest in case they need a pure sample later.
Shift: The recruits and I are on a bus and heading to Hendersonville, TN. We are supposed to be going to the local community center for some reason. The sergeant in charge of us is pacing the aisle and giving the usual profane jokes and patter. There’s a rockabilly guy next to me (complete with pompadour, sleeveless denim jacket and tattoos) who seems to know him.
We arrive in town to find that it’s hosting some sort of sex festival. There are lots of billboards and neon signs and digital displays and holograms promoting various activities – art shows, film screenings, seminars, sex toy demos, competitions, etc.
“I hope we’re going to that, Sarge,” says Rockabilly Guy.
“Bet yr sweet ass,” says Sarge as he straddles Rockabilly Guy’s lap. They start to kiss, grind and generally make out.
The community center turns out to be located inside a huge shopping mall. We go inside the mall. The layout is something like a deluxe pinball table, with lots of ramps and tunnels and elevated platforms. I notice that none of the shops are the usual branded chain stores. Instead, they all seem to be local indie shops, restaurants and cafes with idiosyncratic hipster names like “I Can’t Believe This Is A Cappuccino”.
We make our way to the community center, which is all the way in the back of the mall. The entrance is non-descript – two metal doors that look like they could lead to a loading dock. From outside we can hear the muffled thump of disco-funk. Sarge opens the doors. Behind them is a very large room, like a hall in a convention/exhibition center. The only light comes from a rotating disco ball made up to look like the moon hanging from the ceiling. The hall is full of people, and even without sufficient lighting we can tell that they are having various forms of sex in various combinations.
This must be one of the main sex festival events. I’m surprised they brought us here, but at this point I realize I’m still wearing the see-through mesh pajamas from the medical facility, as are many of the other recruits. So apparently this is all part of the plan.
Sarge gestures to the open door. “Dive in, boys.”
“Hell of a send-off, Sarge,” says Rockabilly Guy.
“Yr in the Army now, son,” Sarge pontificates, “and the Army always takes care of its own. Get in there and fuck something.”
The recruits cheer and dash inside. I follow them. Once my eyes adjust to the light, I can see it’s a little more organized than it seemed from outside – there are different pavilions specializing in different sexual activities, and a lot of booths with sex-related brochures, videos, clothing, merchandise, etc. I have no idea where to start, so I just start walking around looking for an opening, so to speak.
And then I woke up.
R and R,
This is dF
I’m told to report to a medical facility at midnight for the physical check-up, as we’ll be shipping out in the morning. I’m also told the physical involves a “tapeworm” test that involves swallowing a tapeworm which is then somehow pulled from my stomach and through my intestines and out the other end. It doesn’t sound pleasant, but they assure me it’s worth doing at my age.
“Cleans out the pipes,” says the receptionist.
After various activities and preparations, I arrive at the facility for the physical. Every room is cordoned off by white curtains. I am asked to change into hospital pajamas, which are made of transparent white mesh that leave little to the imagination.
The nurse leads me to a cubicle to give the urine sample. I have brought one already, but she wants me to pour it into a jar that she hands me. She leaves me alone, and I open the jar to find it’s already half full of someone else’s urine. I’m not sure what to do, but I figure she must have known the jar wasn’t empty when she gave it to me. I figure maybe they have a way to test urine even if it’s mixed with someone else’s. So I hedge my bets and pour half my sample in, saving the rest in case they need a pure sample later.
Shift: The recruits and I are on a bus and heading to Hendersonville, TN. We are supposed to be going to the local community center for some reason. The sergeant in charge of us is pacing the aisle and giving the usual profane jokes and patter. There’s a rockabilly guy next to me (complete with pompadour, sleeveless denim jacket and tattoos) who seems to know him.
We arrive in town to find that it’s hosting some sort of sex festival. There are lots of billboards and neon signs and digital displays and holograms promoting various activities – art shows, film screenings, seminars, sex toy demos, competitions, etc.
“I hope we’re going to that, Sarge,” says Rockabilly Guy.
“Bet yr sweet ass,” says Sarge as he straddles Rockabilly Guy’s lap. They start to kiss, grind and generally make out.
The community center turns out to be located inside a huge shopping mall. We go inside the mall. The layout is something like a deluxe pinball table, with lots of ramps and tunnels and elevated platforms. I notice that none of the shops are the usual branded chain stores. Instead, they all seem to be local indie shops, restaurants and cafes with idiosyncratic hipster names like “I Can’t Believe This Is A Cappuccino”.
We make our way to the community center, which is all the way in the back of the mall. The entrance is non-descript – two metal doors that look like they could lead to a loading dock. From outside we can hear the muffled thump of disco-funk. Sarge opens the doors. Behind them is a very large room, like a hall in a convention/exhibition center. The only light comes from a rotating disco ball made up to look like the moon hanging from the ceiling. The hall is full of people, and even without sufficient lighting we can tell that they are having various forms of sex in various combinations.
This must be one of the main sex festival events. I’m surprised they brought us here, but at this point I realize I’m still wearing the see-through mesh pajamas from the medical facility, as are many of the other recruits. So apparently this is all part of the plan.
Sarge gestures to the open door. “Dive in, boys.”
“Hell of a send-off, Sarge,” says Rockabilly Guy.
“Yr in the Army now, son,” Sarge pontificates, “and the Army always takes care of its own. Get in there and fuck something.”
The recruits cheer and dash inside. I follow them. Once my eyes adjust to the light, I can see it’s a little more organized than it seemed from outside – there are different pavilions specializing in different sexual activities, and a lot of booths with sex-related brochures, videos, clothing, merchandise, etc. I have no idea where to start, so I just start walking around looking for an opening, so to speak.
And then I woke up.
R and R,
This is dF
