I drove a taxi cab back in Washington State for a few years, and I'm sure you can imagine... I've got stories. You can't throw a stick in the puget sound area without hitting a military installation of one kind or another, and I think my delivery numbers of military personnel on the weekends could have filled one of McChords Globemasters. Everything from enlisted on up to shiny ranks.
On weekend evenings, I would switch out from my normal crown Vic, to a stretched passenger van so I could fit as many passengers as possible in one trip. (Airport and concert runs are where the money is!!)
Anyway...On my very first run to JBLM, I had half a damn platoon of privates and one PFC packed in there like sardines. They were nut to butt, and boisterous as all get out after coming back from leave, but they all calmed down as soon as we came in sight of the base gate.
While they were all digging for their I.D.'s, I explained to the nice Corporal that I would require use of their lock box to secure my personal weapon while I was there. The suddenly not-so-nice Corporal became very agitated, and quickly the number of soldiers on the outside of the vehicle outnumbered the contents.
A VERY cute little 1LT came out shortly to explain that protocols had changed in the 20 years since my time in service, and that personal weapons were absolutely verboten for civilians on base...and because we were already on govt property, I would have to surrender my weapon immediately. I gently argued that I would happily un-ass my passengers there,and leave, but there was no room for me to back up, or turn around this side of the gate. She stood on tippy toe to lean in and look at the sad sack of **** content of my passengers, and says....."I'll take 'em the rest of the way, but first you and me are on a date".
She tucked my pistol into the front of her duty belt and we literally held hands through my window while the gate was opened, and the entire time I was slowly maneuvering through a U-turn and back out the other side. I still remember my ****-eating grin as about 30 soldiers watched me slowly take a wheeled stroll, hand in hand, with the only officer on deck. The sardines were all holding their breath, as I chatted her up like we'd just met in the produce isle. It was magic.
On weekend evenings, I would switch out from my normal crown Vic, to a stretched passenger van so I could fit as many passengers as possible in one trip. (Airport and concert runs are where the money is!!)
Anyway...On my very first run to JBLM, I had half a damn platoon of privates and one PFC packed in there like sardines. They were nut to butt, and boisterous as all get out after coming back from leave, but they all calmed down as soon as we came in sight of the base gate.
While they were all digging for their I.D.'s, I explained to the nice Corporal that I would require use of their lock box to secure my personal weapon while I was there. The suddenly not-so-nice Corporal became very agitated, and quickly the number of soldiers on the outside of the vehicle outnumbered the contents.
A VERY cute little 1LT came out shortly to explain that protocols had changed in the 20 years since my time in service, and that personal weapons were absolutely verboten for civilians on base...and because we were already on govt property, I would have to surrender my weapon immediately. I gently argued that I would happily un-ass my passengers there,and leave, but there was no room for me to back up, or turn around this side of the gate. She stood on tippy toe to lean in and look at the sad sack of **** content of my passengers, and says....."I'll take 'em the rest of the way, but first you and me are on a date".
She tucked my pistol into the front of her duty belt and we literally held hands through my window while the gate was opened, and the entire time I was slowly maneuvering through a U-turn and back out the other side. I still remember my ****-eating grin as about 30 soldiers watched me slowly take a wheeled stroll, hand in hand, with the only officer on deck. The sardines were all holding their breath, as I chatted her up like we'd just met in the produce isle. It was magic.