Epilogue, of sorts...
Got to take the bus back along with another chap who'd had some flight difficulties. More on that delightful story later, and don't you let me forget it...
I'm ashamed to notice that you've let me forget this completely... And this really is a story of true military incompetence (as an aside, the victim in this story is going to go back to Bardufoss and work for the military in my old platoon come January... Crazy goon that he is).
So we know already that this dude took the latecomer bus along with me, but we don't yet know the full reason why. Allow me to explain...
Everyone had the standard leave, with a return flight on the 13th of November. I screwed up on the flight time and played innocent, but he had apparently gone through all the trouble of getting to the nearest functional airport/feed store from his little corner of Viking-land (a trip that took many hours), only to find that he wasn't on the ticket... At all. His spot on that flight had been canceled.
So he called back and the lovely young lady who was in charge of all our plane trips talked him through the process of getting a new trip , and this and that and so forth... She was, of course, the only one who had the ability to access and change/remove our tickets, so chances are she was the one who goofed up.
We all got back safe and sound, and went through the week as planned...
That following Friday, the 18th, the fellow started asking the officers in our platoon about his next leave, the one he'd sent in an application for (which had apparently been approved, but that he hadn't been given a time of departure for yet). He'd asked for a simple weekend-leave, and as such should've had a flight leaving some time that day. Would be kinda nice to find out when, wouldn't it?
After much confusion, rummaging about in file cabinets and locked drawers, and after consulting with the right people, the proud and respectful officers of Charlie Company discovered the embarrassing truth...
The fellow's leave had, in fact, been approved. But not in exactly the way he had asked for. According to the plan, the poor confused chap who was standing there asking about his flight... Was still on leave.
The reason his flight had been canceled that previous Sunday, was because he wasn't SUPPOSED to be on it. The powers that be had decided that the most efficient solution was just to give their exemplary young soldier a week's extra leave, all the way from the start of the one he'd been on, to the end of the one he'd asked for. The 20th.
No one had informed him of this, however. Nor had the nice young lady remembered to mention something along those lines when informing him that he'd need to buy the ticket back himself, and to take that same bus back to base that I ended up taking... Bummer, dude.
On a slightly more modern, somber note... Thursday was when I took a very heavy-hearted trip into Oslo, out into the outskirts, up the stairs of the apartment building, and into the place I'd shared for a week at a time with the girl who had the dubious honor of being the first relationship of my adult life. I picked up the pitifully small bag of my clothes, took out her Christmas present for me and cast it on the floor (just a shirt, nothing quite so dramatic as a glass chandelier), put the keys she'd had made for me in her postbox, and left for good.
There, officially ended. I'd hoped for some sense of relief, a lightening of if not the mood, then at least the burden of having to perform that unsavory chore. Nothing came. That was not an easy night for me, with the usual burning questions about our relationship and its sudden and unexpected end still haunting me. Instead of a weight leaving my shoulders, I was greeted by a wave of realization that was, of course, infinitely less pleasurable.
I'm still here with Hatman and Catwoman, who as it turns out did not merely mean to give me a place to stop and regain my senses before moving on, but had in fact discussed the matter of my moving in to live with them in my time of need and had come to the agreement that it was the right course of action (god damn my English is getting dramatic, I really need to stop writing after 01:00AM). Catwoman had, however, set down the firm rule that she and Hatman would need to put focus and priority on their family and its newest member, and that should I threaten their ability to do that, I would have to leave. Perfectly understandable and respectable, wouldn't you say?
Well, slight change of plans. Turns out that I'm just so damned helpful around the house and I freely volunteer to wash the dishes so often that they've actually had far MORE time to spend on bonding with the baby. Now I don't think she really wants me to leave...
I hadn't actually considered the thought of moving in with them (the idea of adding a 21-year old baby on top of a 2-week old baby seemed a bit excessive in my mind), but the offer is nonetheless something I deeply respect and thank them for... And, since I'm still here, apparently one I'm making use of at the moment.
While the young family tries to get some rest down the hall (the little one has not had a very good evening thus far, poor thing... And the plight of one so small is something that affects all of us), I'm trying to figure out the next step in the rest of my life and, possibly more importantly, where the bloody hell my feet are and how the confounded contraptions
work.So, yes. Looks like this New Year's, like the last year's, I'll be kissing a wine glass, for lack of a fine lass. But what a rosy bonnet she is!
Again, wishing everyone a Happy New Year wit' all da trimmin's. Don't make too many resolutions.
Cheers.
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Topic: All I Want For Xmas is an HK416 (Read 70160 times)