He Was Just A Soldier – Part IV

After his interview, Mike Barnett was escorted out of the newsroom as quickly as possible.  It seemed the show’s producer wanted him out of the newsroom to keep Gerald from having a coronary.  Mike thought the interview wasn’t as bad as Gerald was making it out to be as he could hear him yelling about being “…ambushed by this guy.”  Oh well…maybe next time Gerald will do some research before going into an interview with half-ass questions.  Mike decided to check his cell for messages before getting into his car.  He had three from Denise, his ex-wife, and one from  Bill Ladeen, his sales manager at the dealership.  Mike decided to face the music from his ex first before being blasted by his sales manager.  He had grown tired of Bill’s condescending ways.  It was all Mike could do to not grab the little weasel by the throat and slam his head against the wall.  “Denise?  What do you want? What are you talking about?  Oh, come off of it….I don’t care if Gerald is a popular TV personality or not.  He is a dumbass among other things…I’ll have to explain it to the girls. Don’t worry about it.  Look, as long as you get my child support payments, you have no say in what I do in my life.  If I get fired, so what?  That’s still not your problem.  Well, get the little shit that’s banging you to take you to….hello?”  Mike started to throw the cell into the street he was so mad at Denise.   To hell with her, I better go face the weasel at the dealership now, Mike thought.

Mike walked back to his car with all his belongings from the dealership in a cardboard box.  Mike gave in to temptation as he went for his sales manager’s throat.  The asshole pulled his strings for the last time. He was stopped only by a fellow Marine at the dealership.  Mike could be facing a felony assault charge if he had not been stopped by that fellow Marine, Nate.  Needless to say, the dealership was not pleased with the interview at the TV station.  “It put us in a bad light,” said Bill Ladeen without so much as an explanation how it put the dealership in a bad light. So, despite being the leading sales associate five months running, breaking monthly sales records, he was “relieved” of his position by Bill Ladeen. “Mike, as a brother Marine and someone who understands what you are going through, get help for your anger issues, brother.  I know the VA sucks and you have to wait to get help.  But, you need to let them work with you.  I went through the program, not only to save my marriage, but to save my life.  I’ll help you in any way I can.  But, first, you have to want help, brother.  You have to want it in your soul,” said Nate the Marine who kept him from ripping out Bill Ladeen’s throat.  “I will Nate.  I promise I will.  Don’t worry about me.  I’ll be alright.  Thanks for stopping me back there.  It’s been a bad day.  Getting thrown in jail would have made it even worse.  Call me sometime, Nate,” Mike said.  With assurances from Nate he would be in touch, Mike backed out of the dealership and went back to the beach to allow himself to be lost in thought with the buxom beauties there.  


So, this is my life…going in circles, lashing out at everyone, getting fired, catching hell from the ex and watching the babes in bikinis for the rest of my life, Mike thought.  In Iraq and Afghanistan, he had purpose, his life had meaning.  Now, Mike realizes he has no purpose, no direction in life.  What’s that oldies song from that Motown group? Temptations?  Ball of confusion?  That’s me, Mike thought.  My entire life is just a ball of confusion. At least the brunette with the zip code size boobs was on the beach again. It’s good to see there are still constants in life.  That’s a needed distraction after a day like today.  There were not as many bikini babes as has been the case in the past week or so.  Maybe November had something to do with that although temperatures are always in the high 70s or low 80s this time of year.  Strange though….that brunette with the huge boobs was seemingly always at the beach, now that he had time to think about it.  Maybe I should go talk to her, Mike considered.  Or maybe I should just wait since she is walking my way now and smiling.  Well, things are not a total waste today.
“How you doing, big guy?  I notice you on the beach a lot but never in swim trunks.  What’s up with that, honey?” asked the top heavy brunette.  Yes, today is definitely improving. She’s a little older than Mike thought…maybe early to mid 30s. But, she still has a killer hour glass figure regardless of age.  Those boobs are still prime real estate. “I notice you on the beach a lot also, honey (with emphasis).  You are a major league babe and always alone.  What’s up with that?” Mike asked as he continued to stare at the Mount Everest sized mounds of flesh before him.  It was impossible not to stare and admire their natural perfection. “Well, I have my reasons, honey. But, I do feel guilty for that tent in your pants now.  These 42DDs (as she grabbed both breasts and squeezed them) have that effect on guys. So what should we do about that nice tent, hmmmm?  Let me put it this way….I can make that problem in your pants go away in less than 60 seconds or you owe me nothing for, shall we just say, my services?” asked the brunette.  Oh great….she’s a hooker offering me a damn blowjob. Well, so much for romance, Mike laughed to himself. What an incredible day this has been!  Well….maybe some pleasure from this big boobed hooker is just what he needed.  “I’m game as long as I can get my hands on those Goodyear blimps of yours, honey Mike said with a smirk on his face.  “Anything you want, honey.  Just follow me back to my SUV….”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: