Popeye has had nothing on his mind this week except a pair of civilian clothing and a beer. Each and every one of our conversations starts with “I can’t wait to have a beer” and is promptly followed by what kind and where. Should it be a pint of lagger? maybe a local brew? what about a fancy import? Should it be down town? or will his first drink be at the club on base? He’ll have to wear a set of civilian cloths. Perhaps he’ll buy a nice sweatshirt and a new pair of jeans, or maybe someone from back home can send him his bootcamp box because those pants might still fit. Ah the anticipation of extra freedom and what to do with it.
All but 2 in Popeye’s class were allowed to phase up. They all headed out together. Those old enough to drink were heading out for a pint and pizza. Those not quite of age… well who knows where they were going. Pop said he would call when they get back, so until then it’s Boys night out.
Pop and his friends had a blast. They ended up buying cloths that reflect their A-school and wore them out on the town only to end up at the club on base. The rest of the night was spent drinking pints and playing games. Popeye returned too late that night to call (I always cut him off between 21-22 because at some point I need sleep to function at my job), so he sent me a little love note and made sure that I knew he would call as soon as he knew I was able to talk.