Everybody's Working for the Weekend

The last couple days of work were… fine. Lots of waiting around, getting shots, being annoyed, waiting around, filling out paperwork, being annoyed, repeat. But! I’m beginning to really enjoy my fellow students and getting into something of a routine makes everything better. We truly are creatures of habit. But finally it was Friday and, after the obligatory Army pre-weekend safety brief (don’t drink and drive, don’t do drugs, and many other hilarious but wildly inappropriate warnings that I won’t repeat here and are honestly shocking, especially because you know every example has a real life story behind it…), I was free for the weekend!

Friday night some buddies and I explored the awkward result of going to what was essentially a bar crawl with half college students, half military guys. Lots of long hair and lots of crew cuts, with most folks mingling in groups with other like-groomed individuals. Thankfully, everyone seemed well behave (for the most part) and it was pretty shocking how many West Point guys I saw there. With the Infantry and Armor schools here, nearly 40% of the Class of 2011 will be here at some point in the next 6 months. For the most part, this is rather disappointing… All in all, an amusing night and I got to know some of my new friends perhaps a little too well.

So, I just got back from church, which has a wonderful and well supported parish (likely because it’s the only one here and nothing brings people together like the vague threat of persecution being the only Catholics in a sea of Southern Protestants). Phil and I were both in the Catholic choir at West Point and, being modest, we’re fairly able singers. Well, we were noticed today and the woman in front of us, as soon as mass ended, said, “You boys are too good not to be in the choir.” We were then essentially frog marched to the front of church and introduced as the two newest recruits to join the St. Anne choir. Within about 30 seconds we’d been introduced to George, the choir director, Stan, the Superintendent of schools in Chattahoochee County (which, awkwardly, are very publically failing right now), the priest, who’s name I didn’t catch, and several other members of the choir. At no point were we ever asked if we wanted to join, if we had time, inclination, or desire to be on a choir where the next youngest person was probably about 65. But, honestly, by the time I had recovered from the shock, I was already being fitted for robes. So! That’s what I’ll be doing on Sundays… Should be interesting…