Holy Crap

Hazing is out of regs in the military. So all that blood pinning and stuff you hear about - technically illegal.

I don't know how it is in other jobs, but I work in a place where it's technically also illegal to talk about what happens at work. I also work in a place that shreds a lot of paper.


My car.

This picture doesn't do it justice. I wasn't about to drive home on that pile of sh*t that, if I took a picture of it, WOULD do it justice.
I'm a pretty trusting guy. I leave my car doors unlocked when I'm on base, I leave my window cracked. Well...I was a pretty trusting guy.

I walk out of work, some people are standing around their cars, whatever, I walk to mine. There's a little pile of stuff on top. What IS this pile? I say to myself. Someone put a little pile of crap on my car. Okay. I open my door.

What the...? It's like the pictures but literally piled halfway to the ceiling. Laughter breaks out all across the parking lot.

I'm not sure what I was saying as people were gathering around my car to watch my reaction. I had been talking about Harry Potter a lot lately,
and my Harry Potter book was set on to of the pile of refuse. I really didn't know what was going on... Had someone shredded a bunch of harry potter books and put it in my car? Was it just a ton of confetti?

I figured out, I think, after several minutes, that it was all the shredded documents from the SCIF. Probably a trashbag or two full of em.

"I had that done to me." Says Newcomer, my supervisor. "Just drive down the street with you windows down and most of that sh*t will come out."

I drive down the street at 30. Not coming out. Leave the base, drive at around 45...also not coming out. I get on the highway and am pushing 70. A few loose pieces swirl around my head, but for the most part...I'm sitting on a pile of shredded classified documents, and my copilot IS a pile of shredded classified documents.

I start throwing out handfuls, but it's not really doing much, so I get off the freeway, find some back alley, and just scoop piles of the crap out onto the street. It looks like snow. These pictures are what's left after I got home. On the way in I realized I'm still covered in the stuff, so I shake out on the grass. I get inside, and take off the flight suit, and copious amounts of it come tumbling out of the pant legs.

I'll be washing this crap out from between my toes for a few more days at least...and maybe I should just try and sell the car, cause that crap aint never coming out of the carpet.