Who Not to Mess With...

There’s a list of people, or job descriptions that make up an un-spoken (or otherwise) group that you just shouldn’t mess with. The repercussions can be rather unfortunate and even tragic. Among these is the cook, the person who takes care of your paychecks or your money, your hair stylist or barber, if you have someone who cleans your home – then, your cleaning help, ANYONE who prepares a beverage for you (i.e. bartender, barrista, cocktail waitress), your mechanic, your landlord, your attorney, your nurse, your surgeon and...your anesthesiologist.

Just don’t do it. Don’t mess with the people that fill these roles in your life. If you chose to, please only proceed after they have completed their function. Most of this really goes without saying, doesn’t it? One would think so.

When I was in the military, we KNEW not to mess with the cooks or the yeomen (who took care of our paychecks). If you did, you could bet on something really nasty ending up in your chow. And your paycheck may show up at a remote station in Turkey.

There was a cook in my port security unit who was just a whack-job. I really estimated one day he’d end up in a clock tower naked, with a semi-automatic, a jar of Vaseline and his teddy bear – picking off innocent civilians below, showing teddy who he was going to shoot next, rubbing the petroleum jelly on his penis and ass, then shooting more people. If you think that I’m over-reacting, you didn’t know him, you weren’t there. You’re just going to have to take my word for it. I’m afraid that we’re going to read about him yet.

One time I referred to him as a "character", which doesn’t mean anything particularly bad, right? I said, "Oh Timmy (his name was ‘Timmy’), you’re such a character..." I thought that it was the best way for me to get out of not calling him a complete psycho and not lying by calling him a cool dude...because in actuality, he was psycho. Well, he saw right through me and knew that I thought he was completely crazy. He started crying. Right there. Literally bawling. A grown man in uniform crying in the mess hall; appropriately named – because he was a mess.

I started apologizing profusely, because you know, I thought he was going to grab Teddy, the petroleum jelly and his semi-automatic and I was going to have to start dancing. I continued my apology and said that I didn’t mean anything bad by it (lying through my dingy yellows – it was before the tooth whitening craze) and he quieted down. I watched what I said around him from there on out, not ever trying to say anything that even remotely may be taken as something negative.

Well, this one day, I was with my best buds in the unit and we were making up some verse for cadence. Of course, it was all naughty. One of the verses that we composed was; "Timmy rubs his penis raw! Then he makes the fucking slaw! Sound off! One-two! Sound off! Three-four! Break it on down...One, two, three, four, THREE, FOUR!"

When we arrived back at the mess hall for lunch, Timmy was actually walking around with a tub of coleslaw dishing it out. We were SHOCKED and nauseated. He was confused when none of us wanted any. In fact, we kind of lost our appetite...Because we ALL knew that something horrible was in that coleslaw.

Poor Timmy...If he's not hiding out in a clock tower somewhere, then he's in a random corn field getting ready to urinate on people or throw poo at them as they pass by.

Well, huh...what a coincidence. Maybe this is him? HI TIMMY! YOU FUCKING WEIRDO!

Anyway, on to who else we shouldn't mess with.

My Dad is a sweet guy, usually. Sometimes he gets his panties in a bunch, but then again, don’t we all? Dad is a retired naval aviator. On one assignment, he, my Mom and my siblings lived in Rio de Janeiro for 3 years. He had flown over to Chile for some mission and they were at a restaurant in Santiago. Well, Dad had ordered lamb and when his dinner came, it was under-cooked. So, he sent it back to the kitchen. Dad said that then he saw the chef come out and glare at him, FLARING his nostrils and BARING his teeth at him, no doubt cursing him for sending his dinner back.

A little dramatic for sending his lamb back, don't you think? And I'm certain that my Dad had no idea that this high-strung Chilean chef was really pissed off about their new frozen dinner line and was just displacing it onto my father.

So, over the past year, my Dad had a couple of surgeries. He’s doing well, thank goodness. But he’s had quite a year nonetheless. As you may, or may not know, he is a proud Greek man (I know, proud and Greek is redundant), which can easily translate to confrontational and cantankerous.

Well, he informed me that with his last surgery, his anesthesiologist was Iraqi. And I thought, ‘Oh no...what did he do…’ But it wasn’t even that, which bothered him. It was that he thought that present day Iraq was populated by yesterday’s Persians. So, he says to her just as she’s getting ready to put him under, “You know...you and I are historically mortal enemies.” And she said, “Why is that?” Probably thinking, ‘You fucker, what are you trying to do?’

So he says, “Well, you’re Persian (as though it’s a disease) and I’m GREEK (meant as complete superiority).”

And she replied, “No...actually, it’s the present day Iranians that were the Persians.”

***insert picture and sound of deflating balloon here***

And he said, “Oh...really?”

And she said, “Yes.”

It sounded as though she handled the conversation and attempted confrontation quite gracefully. She said how she immigrated to the States back in the 80’s and is thankful that she did. She said that she certainly would not have done well in the shadow of Saddam’s reign and then with the devastation of today’s situation as well.

Dad sounded humbled and impressed after trying to pick a fight with her. However, I think that he was still somewhat proud that he tried to mess with her.

All I had to say to Will was, “Dad’s anesthesiologist was Iraqi.”

And Will said, “Oh no...what happened? Did he try and fight her?”

I can’t believe that he tried to fuck with his anesthesiologist BEFORE she was putting him under.

DON’T MESS WITH YOUR ANESTHESIOLOGIST BEFORE SHE PUTS YOU UNDER!!! Unless you don’t want to wake up. Then if that’s the case, we have other issues to talk about.