Be Careful What You Ask For

 

It's what's for lunch

    For today’s post, I thought I’d tell a story from my personal wayback machine.  You know, because I couldn’t think of anything else to write thought you all would enjoy a yarn of a simpler time.  When my hair was brown and everything worked.

    Back in the early 80s, I was a fresh-faced young Navy petty officer who accepted orders as an instructor at Naval Air Station Oceana in Virginia Beach.  I was tasked with training young skulls full of mush in the inner workings of the A-6E Intruder’s electronics suite.

A-6E
Like me, long since gone.

    But, hell, that isn’t germane to the point of this story.

Or to any of the Jackson brothers.
Yes, I know it's "Jermaine."

    Anyway, my co-instructor was a senior petty officer who asked me to have lunch with him at his house one day.  Since I had neglected to pack my own lunch and it was between paydays (meaning I couldn’t buy anything to eat on base), I said sure.

    When we got there, he directed me to a pretty comfy recliner and switched on his television to something like The Price is Right.

    Once again, could have been The Joker's Wild.  Still not important.

    As he went into the kitchen, he asked if I liked cabbage.  I answered, “Sure,” figuring he meant something like coleslaw.  Or maybe he was going to make Reuben sandwiches.

    Well, uh, no.

    He returned seconds later.  With a head of cabbage.  Which he cut in half, one half for him, one half for me.

    So, for lunch, I had a dry half of a head of cabbage.

    The next day, he invited me back.  I figured no way would there be a repeat.

    Way.

    Without even asking, he brought back another half of a head of cabbage.  I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I accepted it.  Yum.

Even Bob Barker couldn't make it taste any better.

    Needless to say, I remembered to pack a lunch from that day forward.

    Moral of the Story:  Choose your words carefully.  Otherwise, you may get stuck with cabbage.