The day I lost my shirt

Used to pick up extra cash bartending.

Since I hate drunks, it got to be a problem, but that is a story for another day.

I was working a marine corps event at the local Sheraton.

One of the Marines, a giant of a black man, comes up to me with desperation in his eyes….”You have to lend me your shirt!”, he begs.

“Whattt???”

“I have to be on honor guard, and I forgot to bring my white shirt.”

Scratch my head.

“OK, gotta go home, put on another shirt, be back in 10 minutes with this shirt.”

“Great!”, he says.

Return, give him my white shirt, and he is insanely happy.

He gets changed, and takes his place in the honor guard.

I watch the ceremony, and notice my new bud seems a bit unsteady.

And then he does a full frontal pass out onto the concrete.  Stone cold nose on the floor.

A decent man woud think, “Oh my God, I hope he’s OK!”

But a creep of a man, which I was, thought, “My shirt!”

He was carried off to parts unknown, never to return, and my shirt was forever gone.  Perhaps it was turned into a surrender flag….but as we know, Marines never surrender.

Learned my lessson…never gave up my shirt…unless it was to a Israeli supermodel…made an exception for that.

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