[LJ Idol Season 7-11] Haute
That's right boys and girls, time for another of Dizzy's low-sodium Salty Navy Stories! Now you may say to yourself "Self, I get it! Low sodium means he's writing about haute cuisine in the Navy!" First off knob, stop talking to yourself. Second, you're crazy! Food in the Navy is shit on a shingle and unidentified glop on rice, it doesn't get no fancy-pants French title on it! I'm going for plain-ole Mark one Mod zero "haute", the high class, superior status version of the word. And when you're talkin' superior status, you're talkin' officers.
Now there's many ways to become an officer. Quite a few of them start out in Rhode Island. Two of them in the same building, in fact. On the second floor you have NAPS, the Naval Academy Prep School. On the third floor you have OIS, Officer Indoctrination School. On the fourth floor you have the library, but never mind that.
You start out at NAPS as a Midshipman Candidate, hoping to become a Midshipman, hoping to become an officer. That's five years of training to get in on the bottom floor as an O1, an Ensign. We're talking the serious long way around. Quite a few of us, including both the narrator and the not-yet-mentioned center of our story Mr. Johnson, started out enlisted so we were taking the even longer way around.
Now those OIS folks take the fast track, which is why we refered to them as microwave officers. Pop 'em in, pop 'em out. These guys have already worked their way into civilian careers as surgeons, lawyers, that sort of stuff. They're going into the Navy to fill a specific niche, so all the training they're getting is on etiquette and rank and procedures. They're there for six weeks, and off they go. They also have one other benefit, they start at their full rank (sometimes as high as Commander or Captain, O5 or O6) right from the beginning of training. Now most of the time this didn't cause a lot of trouble, as these folks are coming in to perform their chosen career path, not act as leaders. Every once in a rare while though you got someone that took their rank as an instant power trip with no idea of how to handle it, and that's how we come to the incident.
Mr Johnson, as has been mentioned, was enlisted before coming to NAPS. He spent 4 years on a ship as a shitter fitter. That's what we lovingly call the Hull Technicians, whose job functions cover among other things all the plumbing work. So Mr Johnson had a bit of salty swagger and a good amount of well-earned experience to him. He also didn't care much for the OIS folks, especially those that thought their instant high-class status came with free respect.
On the day in question Mr Johnson was coming back from chow, when suddenly he hears someone yelling at him.
"Excuse me! EXCUSE me! Midshipman CAN-DI-DATE!"
Mr Johnson looks around, and sees the tiny little Commander across the way.
"I am an OFFICER, in the United States Navy, and YOU are REQUIRED to SALUTE ME!"
Now based on rank alone that'd be true. There are a lot of other conditions involved on when you do and don't salute though, that this fellow obviously missed the class on. The fact the two of them were on two different walkways separated by a good amount of grass island, and close to forty feet from each other, would normally preclude one from saluting in that instance. Mr Johnson proceeded to inform the officer of this fact in the clear, polite, respectful manner the guy's high status deserved.
"Are you KIDDING me? I've spent more time squatting on Navy porcelain than you have in the Navy, I'd rather salute it!"
He pulled his cover on tight, turned his back on the bright red Commander, and swaggered on his way to his rack for a post-lunch nap. Sometimes, you just gotta let someone know when they're haute shit.
Now there's many ways to become an officer. Quite a few of them start out in Rhode Island. Two of them in the same building, in fact. On the second floor you have NAPS, the Naval Academy Prep School. On the third floor you have OIS, Officer Indoctrination School. On the fourth floor you have the library, but never mind that.
You start out at NAPS as a Midshipman Candidate, hoping to become a Midshipman, hoping to become an officer. That's five years of training to get in on the bottom floor as an O1, an Ensign. We're talking the serious long way around. Quite a few of us, including both the narrator and the not-yet-mentioned center of our story Mr. Johnson, started out enlisted so we were taking the even longer way around.
Now those OIS folks take the fast track, which is why we refered to them as microwave officers. Pop 'em in, pop 'em out. These guys have already worked their way into civilian careers as surgeons, lawyers, that sort of stuff. They're going into the Navy to fill a specific niche, so all the training they're getting is on etiquette and rank and procedures. They're there for six weeks, and off they go. They also have one other benefit, they start at their full rank (sometimes as high as Commander or Captain, O5 or O6) right from the beginning of training. Now most of the time this didn't cause a lot of trouble, as these folks are coming in to perform their chosen career path, not act as leaders. Every once in a rare while though you got someone that took their rank as an instant power trip with no idea of how to handle it, and that's how we come to the incident.
Mr Johnson, as has been mentioned, was enlisted before coming to NAPS. He spent 4 years on a ship as a shitter fitter. That's what we lovingly call the Hull Technicians, whose job functions cover among other things all the plumbing work. So Mr Johnson had a bit of salty swagger and a good amount of well-earned experience to him. He also didn't care much for the OIS folks, especially those that thought their instant high-class status came with free respect.
On the day in question Mr Johnson was coming back from chow, when suddenly he hears someone yelling at him.
"Excuse me! EXCUSE me! Midshipman CAN-DI-DATE!"
Mr Johnson looks around, and sees the tiny little Commander across the way.
"I am an OFFICER, in the United States Navy, and YOU are REQUIRED to SALUTE ME!"
Now based on rank alone that'd be true. There are a lot of other conditions involved on when you do and don't salute though, that this fellow obviously missed the class on. The fact the two of them were on two different walkways separated by a good amount of grass island, and close to forty feet from each other, would normally preclude one from saluting in that instance. Mr Johnson proceeded to inform the officer of this fact in the clear, polite, respectful manner the guy's high status deserved.
"Are you KIDDING me? I've spent more time squatting on Navy porcelain than you have in the Navy, I'd rather salute it!"
He pulled his cover on tight, turned his back on the bright red Commander, and swaggered on his way to his rack for a post-lunch nap. Sometimes, you just gotta let someone know when they're haute shit.