If you'll bear with me again.........

Posted by Operator Jake from 206-13-102-132.ded.pacbell.net (206.13.102.132) on Wednesday, March 20, 2002 at 7:20pm :

In Reply to: Hero names posted by FlyGuy16 from spider-mtc-ti013.proxy.aol.com (64.12.101.153) on Wednesday, March 20, 2002 at 3:02pm :

Given this chance, I'll quickly introduce you to my best friend.
She's an Air Force servicemember (nobody's perfect), and one of the few folks that I've met in that branch of service that I respect as a soldier.
Truth to tell, I would rather have her watching my back than a lot of men that I can think of. She's a pretty bad girl. We first met at a combative grappling class when we were both stationed at language school. No one else in class was willing to roll around on the mat with a female.
Some guys are just plain weird, ya know?
Anyway, she playfully calls me "Indy" (surprise, guys). This started when she caught me leafing through a Max McCoy at the Waldenbooks. It was, I guess, a little annoying at first, but it grew on me. Especially knowing that she says it with true feeling. She tells me that she can see a lot of Indy in me.
Remember, this was LONG before I discovered the joys of the Fedora.
If I was ever deep in thought or brooding over something(which I suppose I tend to do a lot), she'll look me right in the eye, and in her best Short Round voice, ask me "What we do, Dockta Jones?"
It feels so good to hear her say that.
I can honestly attribute a lot of my strenght to her these days. She is the person that I can turn to for spiritual renewal and the little extra will to carry on, no matter how bad the odds suck. She is the most positive person that I know, it eminates from her.
I love her for that.
I'd like to think that I've returned the favor. The night that we wound up in a riverside park in west Texas one night when she was a little blue (which was usually my job); we wound up sitting over the wall of the bridge, sipping Coke Icees bigger than our heads, her pulling the bow across the strings of her violin, and me blowing on a Hohner harmonica.
What were we playing? It didn't matter. I miss her.
Everyone needs someone like her. Here's hoping that we've all found someone like that in our lives, and that it didn't take nearly as long to find them as it did here.
Let's be careful out there.

Follow Ups:

Sounds like you may have found your Marion ;) (nm) - Indiana Texas girl 11:21pm 03/20/2002

Do I sense a rebuke? - FlyGuy16 9:07pm 03/20/2002

No. - Operator Jake 0:43am 03/22/2002

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: Given this chance, I'll quickly introduce you to my best friend. : She's an Air Force servicemember (nobody's perfect), and one of the few folks that I've met in that branch of service that I respect as a soldier. : Truth to tell, I would rather have her watching my back than a lot of men that I can think of. She's a pretty bad girl. We first met at a combative grappling class when we were both stationed at language school. No one else in class was willing to roll around on the mat with a female. : Some guys are just plain weird, ya know? : Anyway, she playfully calls me "Indy" (surprise, guys). This started when she caught me leafing through a Max McCoy at the Waldenbooks. It was, I guess, a little annoying at first, but it grew on me. Especially knowing that she says it with true feeling. She tells me that she can see a lot of Indy in me. : Remember, this was LONG before I discovered the joys of the Fedora. : If I was ever deep in thought or brooding over something(which I suppose I tend to do a lot), she'll look me right in the eye, and in her best Short Round voice, ask me "What we do, Dockta Jones?" : It feels so good to hear her say that. : I can honestly attribute a lot of my strenght to her these days. She is the person that I can turn to for spiritual renewal and the little extra will to carry on, no matter how bad the odds suck. She is the most positive person that I know, it eminates from her. : I love her for that. : I'd like to think that I've returned the favor. The night that we wound up in a riverside park in west Texas one night when she was a little blue (which was usually my job); we wound up sitting over the wall of the bridge, sipping Coke Icees bigger than our heads, her pulling the bow across the strings of her violin, and me blowing on a Hohner harmonica. : What were we playing? It didn't matter. I miss her. : Everyone needs someone like her. Here's hoping that we've all found someone like that in our lives, and that it didn't take nearly as long to find them as it did here. : Let's be careful out there.

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