Veterans’ Free-Weight Workout

There were five of us at the University gym. I got everyone in because I’m a big donor. BIG donor. Money talks, bull$hit walks, you know.

The black guy, the Spanish guy, the Hawaiian guy, me and the Librarian.

I meet up with the guys every few years around Memorial Day.

We used to run in races all over Central Texas when we were at Ft. Hood before we all went to Iraq, it got us used to the heat. I think they called the races the ‘Austin Sunstroke Series’.

The librarian was also a Veteran, so I invited her to lift with us.

She was very strong for a girlie. Despite being lean, she benched 135.

The guys were impressed. She chatted casually as we lifted. I never heard her talk so much.

She turned to me for a minute in a corner of the gym.

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One inch plates

‘Lifting was part of my rehab. I was blown out of a truck, a Humvee near Taji in 2008. I couldn’t stand up, I was paralyzed. My vertebrae were literally thrown out of alignment. My helmet was gone my body armor, all my equipment. I was sitting in the street with my t-shirt, pants and boots. I was a f%cking Air Force archivist, a librarian. That wasn’t supposed to happen. They sent me to a field hospital, then Landstuhl.’

She said, in between sets as she toweled her face and stinky girlie armpits. She seemed a bit sad and out of sorts. Her usual angry mania had evaporated into this melancholy, withdrawn spirit.

I finished my sets. My bench was 40 pounds down from the weight loss, but my military presses were still solid. Odd.

After we lifted, we went over to the Thai joint for some Pad Thai, Tom Kha Kai soup and Bubble Tea. I kept it vegetarian.

We all jumped in Black Dude’s decrepit van and we drove up the mountain ridge to the old cemetery on the cliff above the lonely bend in the river. It was an ancient and melancholy place. I imagined it was an American Indian spiritual center of some kind. The place had mystical properties. It was always cool and misty even in the summer. It was surrounded by eerie black trees.

We sat next to the ancient sepulcher, where my one true love lay in repose.

‘Your old lady was a sweet girl, Botendaddy.’ I’m sorry.’ Said black dude, putting his hand on her crypt. ‘She was cool.’ Said Hawaiian guy. ‘I miss her.’

I stood at the edge of the cliff looking into the abyss.

‘This your new lady man?’ Said the black dude to me, while he pointed at the librarian with one chopstick. ‘She’s beautiful man.’ Yeah that’s right, man, she’s super-hot.’ Said the Spanish guy. ‘She’s too hot for you, Sir’, said the Maui Wowie. ‘She’s a real war hero too, she’s one of us for real.’

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Graffiti

‘I’m sitting right here you f5cktards.’

She said, hands and face resting on her knees looking out over the overcast gloaming, down at the misty, lonely river.

‘You know, Botendaddy, the war f#cked me up. Like I said, I was doing archives in Baghdad. When my folks got to Landstuhl, you know, we’re a Mayflower family, bluebloods, my dad flew everyone in on the corporate jet. It was awful. I was just getting feeling back in my legs, I was in traction. I was wearing a massive adult diaper. My period was fouled up and my lady parts were disrupted from the shockwave even though I wasn’t burned or blown up. My mom was there, my sister, my nephew. The doctor told my dad that I might never have kids, that I would be lucky to ever walk again. I could hear my dad crying in the hallway. I never heard him cry in my entire life. He was always so hard on me. He’s been over-protective of me and clingy ever since. It’s way out of character for him. He’s one of those distinguished, lean, grey-haired perfectly-dressed country-club bluebloods.’

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Leaving the gym

Everyone was silent. They sat in a row on another ancient tomb that was adorned with spooky blackened cherubs. They were all listening, but trying not to look at her.

‘Look baby, I mean ma’am, we need to smoke this shit, this cannabis sativa, we need to drink this f4cking ripple wine and get bent. You making me cry here, sweet lady, I’m Puerto Rican, I get all emotional. I need some of Maui’s Hawaiian Kush and so do you. We got to Roak that devil Schmiee.’ Said Spanish dude, wiping his eyes.

They all nodded in agreement.

Everyone passed the massive Hawaiian blunt and {CENSORED: PA DEPARTMENT OF AGRICULTURE: MARIJUANA USAGE } we took turns drinking the sweet cheap wine out of the bottle.

The librarian pulled her legs tighter, still staring into the mist. She paused occasionally to sip her coconut Bubble Tea.

‘My fiancée left me about six months later. He was a young big-time Washington lawyer. We were supposed to get married after I got back. I was not doing well. I was raging all the time. All I knew at that time is I could barely walk and I was not ever going to have a child. He was too weak to stand by me. One night, I was sitting in a corner at our brownstone in DC for half an hour straight, screaming “I’m nothing! I want to die!” He drove me down the street to Walter Reed, dumped me for an involuntary Psych commit and when I got back home, he had cleaned out his stuff. I never saw him or spoke to him again. Good riddance.

She moved on to lunges. She kept telling the story all the while.

‘My dad came over and moved into the Brownstone with me. He said he was proud of me. That’s the first time I ever remembered him telling me that. He talked about all the women who work in D.C. and think they are serving their country, but his little girl put her money where her mouth is, so he respected me and none of them. He was USAF in Vietnam in ’71. My ex called the Brownstone once. My dad answered and called him a c&nt.’

She took a long Roak from the shi’itaan {CENSORED: CANNABIS} and then she chugged more cheap wine.

‘So you lifted to rehab, ma’am?’ Asked black dude.

‘I did, it got my lower body strong again, once I was over the spinal shock. It also made my legs stronger for running.’

She turned and shook a finger at me.

‘You know, something weird, I just remembered. I stayed at Air Force House once at Camp Victory. I was in the lounge/gym. Botendaddy was there, he was on the phone. He was a big Army Officer. I knew that I knew that slob him from somewhere.’

‘Weird’ I said.

‘I remember now, the cute blondie in USAF PT sweats. Wow, this is getting weird. Maybe it’s this crazy Hawaiian Kush. I do love you, little librarian girl, everything will work out, kid, you’ll see. I’m glad I defiled you so thoroughly with my nasty spermatozoa, though.’

She smiled smugly, as she took another draw on the satanic spliff.

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The cliff’s edge at the ancient cemetery

 

‘We all love you ma’am.’ Said Maui.

‘Plus, you are hot as f&cking balls, I swear.’

‘Damn right, smoking’ Said black dude, taking a long Roak on the {CENSORED: ILLEGAL HERB}.

Cemetery

The Old Cemetery

 

‘No doubt, you are hot like a movie star, ma’am.’ Said Spanish dude.

Spanish dude walked over and sat next to the Librarian.

‘Listen B, you’ll have kids someday, and if not your own, it’s OK, you’ll adopt. My wife and I adopted four kids , three in college now. One black, two Spanish and as for my white son, he just joined the Army. Botendaddy adopted. Black dude has five stepchildren, he raised them from babies.’

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The Tiffany Stained-Glass

 

The librarian got up and snuggled into my lap. The sun began to set and we could smell smoke from a barbecue or fireplace from some cabin far below, the sweet smoke mingling idly with the cool evening mist.

‘Botendaddy, I’m madly in love with you. You’ve never made me feel bad just for being me. You never make me feel less-than. Of course you are practically a semi-human, missing link.’ Said the librarian in a drunken stupor.

‘And if you ever put your nasty, veinous, gnarled, gigantic, del.icio.us, monstrous thing into another dirty, filthy, stank woman-twat, as long as I’m with you, I swear to god almighty, I will cut out your still-beating, ugly, blackened, shitty heart and eat it right in front of you. I swear to god.’

Peace Be the Botendaddy

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About Botendaddy

Three times voted extreme sexiest man alive...by acclamation. I run because I must...I must!
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