Of tempests in teapots, death threats and other bumps in the road of life
Well! I never! It all began with my usual nonsense, boorish and uncaring I admit, but I come from well below the salt and failed knife and fork school. Now not just anyone, mind, but one I thought a dear friend has invited me to shut up; oh not in such crude terms but I can find the hurt even when couched in well mannered politeness. Oh but there’s more…. I am not only invited to shut up but to do so until I’ve shared the frightful hate and agony of a telephone death threat. (At first I thought my friend wrote “death treat.” You may imagine my confusion until I reread what he wrote.) As I read his remark I reflected that in 72 years I had never received a telephonic death threat (or a death treat for that matter). Oh sure I had been shot at and death threatened once, but the latter was in person by a drunken Coast Guard waving a loaded and large caliber pistol at me. (Now in retrospect I rather wished he had phoned his threat, I’d not have dirtied myself. But I digress.) So this blog is to share my misery in hopes that one or more of you might do me the favor of telephoning a death threat so that I may be released from my dear friend’s prohibitory admonition. If you wish to do so, be decorous and send me a private message indicating your willingness to originate a death threat and I will respond with my phone number and a convenient time and date for you to call. Principals only please. OB
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LOL OB! I love the way you get the point across. Awesome post. Made me spit my darn coffee it did. Not only might I call you in a death threat but sue ya for burning me lip with hot beverage LOL.
Hah! Jsmile, sue me huh? Stole a page did ya from the lady who sued McDonald’s years ago after she spilled hot coffee on her whoo hooo (Don’t drink and drive…). TY fer yer reply but if you ever use “awesome” to me again I will hunt you down and feed you a dictionary a page at a time.
Well, I don’t know what you did to receive such a threat but I’d sure like to… must’ve been a doozy, so I think you should share. lol Some of us are made of strong enough stuff that we don’t go running for the smelling salts when someone throws an insult or disagreeable word our way, so I (most often) appreciate your boorish, uncaring wit. Seriously, I agree w/ Jsmile that that was AWESOME! .. well not really… but I just wanted to see what kind of “threat-treat” you’d come up with if I used the word. Here’s hoping someone will comply w/ your phone in request. My guess is that it will happen sooner or later. Please do keep us apprised 🙂
Millie, I like your answer. He needs to tell more. Please. I got this whetted curiosity here. Geez, that is worse than eating the dictionary and may inspire some abuse not rising to a death threat, but something “fitten”
Oh, okay. But anxious now that my tale will be almost anticlimactic. In any event I must tell you some background to set the stage.
It was in Ho Chi Minh City (then Saigon), many years ago (1966). Buddhist monks were stirring up unrest what with immolating themselves regularly in the busy streets. Big nosed, round eyed foreign devils (that would be us) were nervous. Although we were not supposed to go about armed (being garrison troops or “REMFs”) many GIs carried concealed side arms. One who did so was a Storekeeper First Class who kept a 45 automatic in his satchel.
He was an old salt, middle-aged and alcoholic. Each day he fortified himself for the trip from office to our billet with enough beers to calm himself a bit.
Me? I was a smart alek junior petty officer. My room was in the same billet (a small hotel) as my nemesis. I was in the room of a friend having cold brew. The door was open looking out on the stairway.
I wore black pajamas. Black pajamas, as we called ’em, were the universal Vietnamese peasant garb. A fad of the time was to have an outfit of BPJs custom made for oneself by one of the many Indian tailors in the City. As it turned out because they too were peasants or wished to be seen as such, the Viet Cong also wore BPJs.
So one may understand that a nervous and inebriated GI, fearful of the VC, might see his colleague as having gone over to the enemy or as a turncoat at the very least.
So up the stairs he lurched and glanced at us as he proceeded, or so we thought, upward to his room.
But to my consternation he suddenly reappeared swaying in the doorway whilst chambering a round in what now appeared to me to be a huge 45-caliber pistol in his hand. Most distressing though, was that the muzzle was pointed very much at me.
“Stand up!” he commanded. (I did) “Now take off them VC clothes.”
Very anxiously, and very carefully, I stripped off my BPJs until I stood before him in my skivvy shorts.
“Now put on some Coast Guard clothes,” he ordered.
I explained that the garments were in my room down the hall. So at gunpoint, he marched me to my room where I put on dungaree trousers.
Satisfied, he announced, “Don’t ever let me catch you in VC clothes again.” Then he operated the pistol’s slide and a live round flew up out of the chamber and landed on my bunk. Swaying and weaving he bent over and put the gun on the bunk as he fumbled to retrieve the ejected round.
Without thinking I dove over top of him and grabbed the pistol. He was in no shape to get it away from me. About then the military police, whom someone had called, arrived and put him in cuffs. A month later he was busted to second class.
I don’t think I wore my custom tailored black pajamas again. OB
uhhh.. i was talking about the more recent invitation from your dear friend to shut up or… else. maybe i missed something.. maybe a few somethings… ah well, it wouldn’t be the first time. lol- an interesting story, nonetheless.. 🙂
lol rose 🙂
Well blow me down with a feather OB. I thought you would be on lots of peoples hit list. Obviously not the ones who phone up and tell you first. Your wit and wisdom always has me in stitches. I would happily phone you a death threat, but, living in england it would cost a lot of pennies. Would a SC site death threat be as good or will only a phone call do? xxxxx
What a lovely, umm, compliment, Blink. Pleased to know I stitch you up and you may deliver your threat by pm in view of your impecunious circumstances.
OB
It may take a while to think what to say. I’m not used to threatening people, but it will burst forth at some time.
I never new you were “broke”!!,blinker,lol.
And she isn’t Sunflower……….she can afford Turkey, Camel bourbon or whatever its called………do not be fooled by this women…lol lol xxxx
oooops a name change……..flowersun……..Blinkers bourbon………went right to my head it did….lol lol xxxx
Hahaha,star,I love a dram me self,can’t tell you on here,where,I mean how it affects me,lol,xxx
Then I will just have to use my imagination Flowersun……..oooooo I say..lol xxx
Oldbull , Enjoyed reading your story about your Black PJ’s . 🙂
Instead of so many words, can you show photos of the story next time? Just want to check out the black PJ’s…. and maybe the one in the skivvys.
Call me curious!
lol Linda