Out of desperation a friend of mine has entangled himself with army recruiters –that’s the way most around him want to see it. He’s buzzed his head and claims he wants to be “Army Strong.” He and the recruiter have already visited the car lot where an Impreza WRX STi awaits his sign-up bonus. All he will have to do to get financing is show his military ID.
 
Last night he took the tests at Fort Carson to measure his aptitude and psychological profile. He teased me afterward about a particular question for which his recruiter had coached him. “Do you have a conscience?” The advised answer was “no.”

Up to now it’s been mostly one on one with the recruiter because last night my friend kept expressing his surprised satisfaction at the large turnout of fellow recruits. “There must have been at least sixty, he said trying to torment me. Adding eagerly: “And lots of hot chicks.”

Hot chicks? Hmmm. Hmmm. Not to take anything away from the lovely female gender soldiers who’ve already joined the Army, but how likely is it that my friend saw lots of hot chicks at Fort Carson last night? Or lots of anybody? Any chance many of them might have been stand-in enlistees commanded to wear civvies, accompanied by girls from the Deja Vu moonlighting in pursuit of Iraq-bound soldiers to die and leave them beneficiary to the $250,000 insurance?

My sister was once targeted by card sharps on a bus ride home. She was wearing her waitress uniform so they probably knew she would be carrying what she’d earned for tips. Here’s what happened: she noticed a guy with cards challenging people to follow a particular card, etc. Most of the riders ignored him but gradually a small crowd was drawn to the action, including my sister. When she was finally lured to bet her cash, and lose it in the space of a few seconds, right then the bus stopped and the entirety of the little crowd vaporized. More than having been duped of her money, my sister was most shaken by the realization that she had been the lone target.