Hoo-rah!

Ever dancer has danced for a military man.  He tends to be easily identifiable by his military fade and cocky demeanor.  They tend to be assholes with a lot of money and little desire to spend it.  Some surprise you, though.

I was on stage when a young man came to sit down.  He was wearing full desert fatigues, fresh cut, glasses.  Carrying a beer and a hearty stack of ones.  He was having a blast with the two guys next to him which I later learned he didn’t know.  He organized a dollar shower with them for me.  I came over after my set and sat down with him to talk.

Turns out he was getting ready to go to Iraq.  For the first time.  He was putting on an appearance to be brave, but you could tell he was scared shitless.  He was flying out in a week.  He was the only son of his family and he was leaving them to make good pay to help support them.  His family was in a bad way.  So he pretty much put his life on the line to keep them afloat.  I admired that.  He payed for a couple dances and I danced for him, though he didn’t give much indication he was enjoying it.  I sat with him for a little longer until a man the soldier had been talking to came up and presented me with a twenty and instructions to ’show the man in uniform a good time.’  As i stood to go pay for the dance, the soldier pulled out his wallet and gave me four extra twenties for more dances.

I danced for him and started to notice his little ways of showing appreciation.  How his body would tense under mine if I did this or he would close his eyes and wet his lips if I did that. He refused to make eye contact with me, but when he finally did, I eye-fucked him to the point of color rising in his cheeks.  I love my job.

I sat with him for a little longer and he eventually spilled that he was terrified he’d never come home.  He was infantry.  He was going to Bagdhad.  He just prayed he could come home one day on his feet and not in a bodybag.  I hugged him and all at once tears spilled down his face.  His shoulders shook.  He barely held it together.  I sat with him, not quite for free because he had lavished me earlier, and held him as he slowly mended his exterior.  He soon had to leave, as he had a long drive ahead.  Before he left he thanked me for listening.  No one in the military gives a damn you are terrified to go to Iraq because they ALL are.  You are not an individual to the army so they will never treat you like one.  I smiled and said when he came back to come back around and I’ll give him more dances.  He grinned and nodded, then left.

I know his name.  I hope I never see it on the list of military deaths.

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