It was one of those rare odd nights when exactly nothing went on.
Qui..... oops. Almost jinxed somebody.
Boring to say the least.
We had Officer Screech down there tonight. She doesn't sit still well at all. She and Chuck went out to search a few dozen cells just to keep her occupied. We were afraid if we made her sit still too long, she would burst into flames.
Ah well. It was good for both of them.
BG and I had alot of time for introspection out on the rec yard. We chatted about this and that and got off into a few war stories.
Well, not really war stories. Both of us were ex-military but had never really seen any combat. I, for one, am really really happy about that. But there are alot of us who have seen it and a few of our brothers and sisters in the polyester blue line that are in the thick of it even as we speak.
At any rate, it occurred to me that an awful lot of the people working here are either ex-military or active reserve or guard. I started ticking names off on my fingers and came up with an awful lot of names.
I asked BG what percentage of the staff here in Raccoon City were military or ex and he replied "About a third."
He held up three fingers and touched the first one. "Truck drivers."
The second finger. "WalMart employees."
The third finger. "Military. That covers 99% of them, I think."
By jove, I think he's right.
Enough of an odd demographic to make a statistician reach for the zantac.
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