What a freaking douche. (yet another military rant)

As I was sliding my debit card through the machine at the Wally World checkout yesterday I had an internal dialogue that sort of went like this: "Well at least we'll save lots of money with Gorilla being gone for a month. $20 later I'm set for probably two weeks. Damn, I'm cheap. Who needs home cooked meals and meat with every meal? If only Gorilla would be okay with eating grilled cheese sandwiches every night. I've finally found a pro for him being gone."

Content with my sparse meal staples and happy about my thriftiness, I continued to find some more reasons to embrace my alone-ness. I don't have to close the bathroom door. No need to brush my hair. My lean cuisines and toast don't require real dishes, so no need to run the dishwasher every day. I don't change my clothes a gagillion times a day like Gorilla, so I only have to wash clothes once a week now. I can spread out diagonally over the bed and not wake up sans covers. I only have to hear the alarm clock go off once. With the Ike-induced gas spikes, I don't have to stress about how much it's going to cost to fill the Jeep each week. I can watch every cheesy design show and Project Runway without guilt or complaint. I don't even have to shave. I can live almost like I did when Gorilla was deployed. (save for the obvious worry and anticipation and length surrounding those wonderful separations)

Truth is, all those wonderful things about being alone are really the things that make me hate it so much. I don't mind closing the bathroom door. It's nice to have a reason to wear make up and brush my hair. (To be fair, Gorilla says the usual hubby required "You look beautiful when you wake up in the morning." but I like to try to look decent for him when he's around.) I like washing his clothes and making him dinner. His Jeep is awesome, even if it inhales gas like that little Japanese dude inhales Nathan's hot dogs. And I don't mind compromising on TV shows as long as we can cuddle. Oh but wait, I do hate shaving.

So, I found that there are only really two positive things about him being gone: saving money and saving even more money by not having to buy ridiculously expensive razor refills.

Now to the saving money part: I had to suck it up and get over my smugness tonight when Gorilla called to tell me about his mandatory fun dinner in Norfolk tonight. Poor guy. I could tell he was nervous about something as soon as I heard his voice. Our conversation went something like this:

G: Um...I guess I have to go ahead and tell you this.
Me: Fuck, did you buy dinner for everyone? (trying to sound calm but nervous as hell as to what he's going to say)
G: No, no. But it was pretty bad.
Me: What? Your dinner? Or the price?
G: It was a little expensive.
Me: How expensive? Like we go crazy and order a beer with dinner expensive? Or we go crazy and order dessert too expensive?
G: It was $70.
Me: (thinking to self, Stay calm, stay calm) Who did you pay for?
G: Just me.
Me: (in my head: what the fuck? are you fucking kidding me? Did your dinner come with a happy ending? What the fuck) To him: What the fuck? Did you drink all night long?
G: No, just 3 beers.

At this point, I can tell he feels really bad. I hear him rustling around looking for his receipt and he proceeds to break his ridiculous meal down, line by line. To be fair, he ordered the cheapest entree on the menu. I then calmly try to get the details of the evening from him. Why in hell did they go to that restaurant? What the fuck did he order? What was so special about this dinner? Does he realize we don't even spend that for the two of us at the expensive German restaurant in Tahoe that we love that we never go to because it's so freaking expensive? Why did he order an appetizer? How many beers did he have?

The answers: some brilliant douche bag in his group was trying to impress the CO and suggested the restaurant that he and his wife supposedly frequent when in the area. What a douche bag. Who is that fucking inconsiderate and rude to take a group of 25 men (without their wives or s/others) to an expensive gourmet restaurant without a forewarning or vote or something? I know that if they knew what they were getting into, they wouldn't have agreed to go there. These are chicken wings and burger men. They're Marines. Fry some meat and give them a cheap beer and they are happy. (and if you add some big ta-tas as decor they'll love you forever) They don't need $20 shrimp appetizers and $8 beers! I cannot say it enough: what a douche bag! I hope I never meet this man in person because I may just have to ask him to compensate my husband and all the others for being such a douche.

I wasn't upset at Gorilla. I was upset with the inconsiderate asshole who preempted 24 phone calls home this evening that were probably very similar to ours. Gorilla said that all of the other guys were staring at their receipts in disbelief as well, wondering how their wives were going to take the news and how/if they would incorporate it into the budget. Luckily the considerate, sensible men in the group had the decency to pay for the 3 LCpls who were unknowingly thrown into the situation, although I think above mentioned Douche of the Year should have footed their bill.

I feel so bad for Gorilla. He thought I was going to be upset at him. It wasn't his fault. He said he literally felt ill over the whole situation. But seriously, $70 for one person? It's not anybody's birthday.

That's what I get for being so proud of myself for my cheap grocery trip yesterday. I should have known it was too good to be true.

Oh yeah, have I mentioned lately how much I'm really starting to hate the Marine Corps?