The drunken call

I need to go find pictures from a wedding about seven years ago of Army of Dad and his army buddies. Tonight, about 11 p.m. our time, midnight on the east coast .. he gets the call. The guys at the sports bar call. On Saturday, the last bachelor in the group (ok the stupid one in the bunch doesn't count), is getting married. *sigh* Unemployment prevents us from flying Army of Dad up there. But, it may work out better for me to send him later in the year when his friends can all really hang out.

But, I digress. He gets the drunken call from the buddies. All three of his best buddies. And, suddenly, I'm moving back in time to my apartment in Killeen when he and his buddies would sit on my front room floor playing cards and drinking beer. They loved my place. Well, they loved it because it wasn't the barracks and I had a single girl living next door to me. Can't get much better than that for them, I suppose.

I'm sort of bummed that I haven't met one of these wives yet. Weird, isn't it? But, it is the way it is. Military life has kept these guys moving all around the globe. Just so happens that his three best friends now live in Maryland and Virginia, so they're all within a short drive of each other.

What cracks me up, though, is that these guys haven't talked for a few months (ok, off and on they talk) but instead of catching up about life, they're talking about football and baseball. Oh wait, now they're reminiscing about a big brawl they got into in Dallas when the groom to be pinched some other dude's girl's ass. I think my guy broke his wrist. That was before my time with the gang. :)