Wednesday, June 25, 2008

D-225: The Worst Thing That Ever Happened To Me

The following incident occurred a few days ago, but I was so terribly traumatized by it that I wasn’t sure if I could write the post, I was not ready to relive it. In the interest of honesty and disclosure, and my desire to maintain an interesting blog, I will attempt to put it to paper now.

A few nights ago, out on a job, I was lying up on a bridge somewhere in Baghdad, lying flat on my back in my IBA trying to manipulate something with my hands. Of course, I don’t want to divulge any details of the job itself, but it’s not at all important to understand the catastrophic event that is about to transpire. Like I said, I was trying to manipulate something with my hands, and it was giving me fits. It was a pitch black night, and the object was situated in a position that made it difficult to both look at it and get my hands on it and the action required both hands. And naturally, it was a million fucking degrees hot out like always.

I could not manage to prop my flashlight in a workable position, so like always, I just put it in my mouth and held it steady with my teeth. Well, anyone who has ever done that knows that it’s a pain in the ass, and it kept falling out of my mouth and really pissing me off. So someone behind me was kind enough to grab the Mag-Lite and hold it in place for me. With the light in position, I was able to complete the chore, and hopped up to take care of the next step of the project, which I quickly completed and got back down to the original spot I was working to finish up. This time however, the flashlight holder was off, so I reached back and he dropped the flashlight back in my hand.

Here’s the thing, it was really dark, and I was really hot and focused on what I was doing, so I never really managed a good look at who was holding the flashlight. There were three other Americans on the bridge, and four Iraqi Police.

Well, the flashlight issue predictably started kicking my ass again, and without even thinking, I instinctively jammed the fucking thing back in my mouth. I immediately realized my mistake. It was in fact an IP that was holding it, with his dirty nasty hand that he probably had in his ass the whole night. I nearly threw up – Iraqi hygiene standards are notoriously low, and by low, I of course mean non-existent. It is not recommended to put anything they may have touched into your mouth.

I gagged immediately and did a bunch of spitting. My mouth was nearly bone dry at this point anyway, but I continued trying to spit anyway. I was so disgusted, and still am; I considered lighting my tongue on fire, or just cutting it out all together. I quickly wrapped up what I was doing, gave a quick hand wave to the rest of the team and said something that sounded like “leth go,” since my mouth was so dry and I still refused to swallow or let my tongue touch the sides of my mouth. I got back in the vehicle, opened a bottle of water, and poured it in my mouth, spitting it right back out on to the floor of the truck. The guy next to me said something like “what the fuck are you doing,” but I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet. I considered forcing throw up, but I didn’t see how it would help. I did the rinse, spit, repeat routine with about two liters of water, until there a puddle of the tainted liquid sloshing back and forth across the floor of the vehicle.

I told my buddy the story on the walk back to HQ after we returned; through his hysterical fits of laughter he managed a few consoling words:

“Dude, you know he probably had that hand in his ass. He was probably just sleeping with his dick in that hand, shit; he probably had his buddy’s dick in his hand too… or maybe had his hand in his buddy’s ass. You know how these dirty fucks are!”

Sadly, I do know how these “dirty fucks” are, and his words, though intentionally hurtful, were also very likely the truth. And they cut me like a knife. Then he concluded with this humdinger:

“So, basically, you just had an Iraqi’s dick in your mouth.”

Thanks asshole. I used nearly a whole bottle of Listerine until my mouth was completely numb. I considered just boiling water and pouring it over my tongue, and dealing with the burns, but ultimately decided against it.

While the jury is still out on whether or not I have hepatitis, one thing is for certain; my delicate psyche is permanently shattered by this incident.

Quote of the Day: Army 1LT to me.

“So, basically, you just had an Iraqi’s dick in your mouth.”

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