“High risk” is a classification for United States soldiers who participate in risky behavior. In other words, they are statistically more likely to do dumb shit, such as drinking and driving or beating their wives.
However, high risk is not meant to possess a negative connotation. It’s simply a way to describe when the sum of a soldier’s life events could lead him to participate in more high risk behavior.
My plights are somewhat different. I’m a combat arms paratrooper in the United States of ‘Murrica and my updates will attempt to chronicle the events that led me to being classified as “high risk”. #teamhighrisk, a motley group of misfits, is either my support system or I’m just their excuse to participate in debauchery. This has yet to be determined. This is our story.
Dildos All Up in the House
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I believe every group of friends operates as a council. It takes a village, they say. There is no official hierarchy amongst #teamhighrisk, however we do have an informal judicial system. That being said, I was nervous. This was a serious crime that I had, until this point, successfully concealed from even my closest of friends. This was my day of reckoning. My D-Day.
As the charges were read aloud by #teamhighrisk members “Boss” and “Coach Dean” via a recap of events that had taken place in the previous 24 hours, I tried my best to keep my head up.
It ended with the council asking how I plead. I replied, “Guilty.” Guilty of trying to turn a hoe into a housewife.
To quickly recap, I’m a statistic; the all too familiar story of a deployed soldier who comes back to a broken home. Future episodes will chronicle the
exact circumstances that led her and I to this place. “So there I was no shit… calling in mortar rounds to end a fire fight while she got out of giving her insurance up in a fender bender by giving some dome.” Boo fucking hoo. Please believe I am no victim, and I don’t want/need/deserve any sympathy for my violations of man laws.
I left her when I found out while i was deployed she had more wands stuck up her wizard sleeve than Hermione Granger. However, the military mandates I pay my estranged spouse a sizeable amount of my income while we wait out the required year of physical separation. I pay more because I need to ensure the car notes and bills that are in my name get paid, plus she has our daughter and #teamhighrisk loves the kids. She was so traumatized and depressed upon me leaving that she lost her job at the good ole Walmart.
She’d been unemployed for 8 months when she had a brilliant, albeit typical idea.
She was going to get a sugar daddy.
She worked the websites and started trolling bars. I did my best to encourage her; anything to lighten my financial burden was welcome at that point.
Prospect #1 was Bobby. He owns a trucking company. She called giddy me one day to say he was mailing her a debit card with her name on it. There was reportedly $10k in this joint account with the promise of more to come.
Unfortunately, I had to inform the simple bitch that it was not possible.
She in return called me a hater. This reminded me, “I’za gives no fucks,” so I didn’t bother to tell her there was no way the card had her name on it without her first giving her information. A week went by and wouldn’t ya know it the card never came. Bobby made off with pictures and from what I can gather at least some head. Learning is expensive.
Prospect #2 was “the doctor”. She met him at a popular local bar and they hit it off. He suffers from numerous vices, the least of which is a decent coke habit. Regardless, she told me he was going to be paying some of her bills. Awesome. So the other day I walked in to pick up some things I needed for work that are in storage at her place and she answered the door completely naked. This was not completely abnormal for her but the grin on her face let me know there was recently a dick in her mouth. Undeterred, we made small talk and I asked to use the bathroom. As I walked into the room I had to double take because there were dildos everywhere. It made me chuckle. She asked me why I was laughing. I hesitated at first but replied,
“Y’all really got into it, huh?”
She told me the doctor was over and he likes it rough. Then the following exchange took place:
Me: “So many dildos… Ha! Did you fuck him in the ass?”
Her: “Yeah, he really gets into it.”
Me: “Wow. Well did he pay your internet bill?”
Her: “No, not yet but he will. I filmed it.”
Me: “You realize that’s illegal?”
Her: “Fucking him in the ass?”
Me: “No… blackmail.”
It’s obvious that I have crushed her dreams. She can’t even be a whore right.
I need a drink.
To be continued