It is good to be the King

It has been a while since I have written. My time here continues to tick down not only in terms of riding the vine in the sky home but also when Christy, my wife and formerly known as my hot (my words) contracts weenie (her words) girlfriend arrives. A few weeks back my SGM (the head enlisted guy around here who really runs the show) told me a story about our local national workers who run the bazaar. The bazaar is a shop with all kinds of great stuff. It is the source of my rug whoring during my last rotation here. One can also buy numerous DVDS and other goods and wares.

Anyway, "word" got around to the local bazaar owners that the SGM is the king of our camp. If you were in with him, you would be set according to the "word." In trademark Afghan fashion, the local nationals wasted no time in solidifying what they thought was the "word" Their method of operation was to make "offerings to King SGM if you will. The SGM relayed to me that each time he walked by the bazaar he was showered with gifts. At first he would kindly return them. The local national shop keepers were persistent though. Not to be outdone or rebuffed, the local national workers soon started emblazoning the SGM names on the "offerings" they made. Chairs, stencilled pillow and other items soon began appearing at the SGM's hooch. Finally after about two weeks he put a stop to it. This was not before another local national interpreter also tried to help. According to our SGM the local national interpreter told him not to worry that he would accept these offerings from the shop keepers and then on the down low give them to the SGM at a later date. The SGM of course refused this idea as well.