DON'T LOSE YOUR HEAD by Starkist


Years ago I was stationed in England. I lived on the 2nd floor of the only co-ed dorm on base. Men downstairs -- women upstairs. Being the senior NCO in the dorm, I had my own room. My room was on the far end of the floor from the exit: The large corner room.

Our dorm was one of a complex of 5 dormatories 'up on Sugarhill'. We were right next to the exterior fence -- across the yard were the dorms for RAF Lakenheath Regional High School. The high school kids lived in the dorms during the week and went home on weekends.

Being roommate free was wonderful on many levels, but mainly because I was able to decorate the way I wanted and not have to worry about the complaints of a 'roomdog'.

This was also a plus when I had guests --lots more room ya know.

I had taken the bunk beds and built a king size bed out of them -- you use the bottom head/foot boards as the king headboard and the top head/foot boards as the king footboard. If you tie the mattress handles together where they meet, you have a king size bed and mattress.

The military will not allow you to have firearms or edged weapons in a dormatory /barracks, but decorative weapons are okay. I had a pair of claymores mounted over my bed -- no edge, but heavy enough to break a limb if you hit somebody.

I was entertaining some friends one evening; 7 girls, sitting on the bed drinking wine and talking about our boyfriends when one of them says ...

"Oh man, gross!"

We all look towards the open door and see some goon with his zipper open -- exposing himself and stroking his 'shortcomings'. A couple of the girls screamed, and he took off down the hall. I reached up and grabbed one of the swords off the wall and took off out my door after him.

The exit at the end of the hall was blocked by women coming out of their rooms to see what all the screaming was about. The interior stairs were filling up with men who lived on the first floor coming up to investigate the hullabaloo, so 'Flashin Freddy' came back running towards me.

I whirled my sword about (doing my best Errol Flynn impression) and told him ... "Freeze, or I'll slice that thing clean off, you slimy bastard".

I herded him into the phone booth and forced him to call the police on himself. My boyfriend was one of the cops who responded -- he said he knew the the "maniac bitch with the sword" just had to be me.

Seems the British civil authorities had been looking for this guy for months. He'd been reported all over Brandon and Mildenhall villages, he'd climbed over the fence a couple of times and had been terrorizing the high school students across the way. He had just picked the wrong dorm to do it in this evening.

It never occured to him that he wouldn't be dealing with kids - that he'd be dealing with pissed-off adults. Pretty good eh?



BLACKBEARD

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