Life After "The Service"

So after that debacle with Wendall, I was discharged from the Service with a medal for bravery, right along side a friend I met in the hospital while I was recovering from my injuries during that fateful day. Not knowing what to do, at his suggestion, I accompanied him back home to Greenbow, Alabama. He lived there in a BIG white house with his Mama, as he called her. She didn't go to work, but her house was so big, that she rented some of the rooms out. Since I was a friend of her son, I didn't have to pay for mine. She had a big refrigerator packed with Coca-Cola and fed me the best home cooked meals every day I was there.

It was so hot during the summer that there wasn't much to do because it was too hot. We talked about how the heat made us think of being back in 'Nam. Then my eye started to twitch and I started to cry thinking about Wendall. I still couldn't believe that asshole punched me. Now my eye is going to twitch forever. To try to take my mind off it, my friend Forrest suggested a rousing game of Table Tennis or "Ping Pong" as they referred to it back in 'Nam. It seems that after Forrest's platoon found "Charlie", he was injured saving his fellow soldiers, which led to our meeting in the hospital. To pass the time, he picked up a Table Tennis paddle and had quite the knack for the game.

Now, the thing about Forrest is that he's a bit slow, if you catch my drift. So he's a bit sensitive about some things. So we were playing table tennis and I was getting my ass kicked quite sufficiently, when Mama came to tell us that lunch would be soon, so we should go and wash up. We would be dining on the patio that afternoon. So we agreed to finish our game and then come out for lunch. In the split second between the time that Mama left the room and I turned back to the table, Forrest had managed to hit the ball to my end of the table, since I wasn't looking, I missed it. In sheer frustration and the heat of the moment I shouted "Hey!! you can't do that!" and "Who does that?? Honestly? That's Retarded!" and Forrest apparently took great offence to the word "retarded" and proceeded to go as the kids call it Ape on my ass. He threw his paddle right through the window and started screaming "I'm not a smart man......But I can kick your ass bitch!" and with one swift move, he slapped me in the face and pushed me down to the ground. As he was clutching a vase to bash over my head, I said "DON'T!! I'll just leave." and as I did, he picked up a baseball bat and clubbed me on the back. "Heeeyyy!!! Cheap shot asshole!" I replied and then swiftly kicked him in the nuts. I gathered my stuff and apologized again to Forrest and especially to Mama, who was kind enough to offer to let me stay the night, but I said no, and I left. As I was walking out to the waiting taxi, all I could think of was the intense pain in my back...that dirty bastard.

So, now that I was banned for life from Greenbow, Alabama, I was left with no where to go and one hell of a backache. That dirty bastard. He will rue the day, oh yes, he will rue the day. Below is a picture of my friend Forrest and his table tennis paddle.