or "Welcome to Afghanistan"

This evening at the "Dragon Diner" dining facility on Bagram Airfield (BAF), I sat next to a gentlemen who was a douche. Plain and simple. One of those guys who is mouthy and complains about everything. He has it all figured out. The typical "they" has f'ed everything that "used to be great" because of politics/social environment/anything else a DB can spout off about. He's here as a civilian contractor, flying some type of aircraft, but is a Reserve Chief Warrant Officer 3 pilot. He is also a bad person. How do I know all of this? Well, in true DB fashion he was extremely loud and over the top obnoxious. Here are the high points of his monolog:

"Did you see the t*ts on that one over there?"
"My last tour there was a FBI Agent here, had to be mid-twenties. Hot damn..."
"The other day I was grabbing a coffee from (somewhere) and I said to the girl in front of me 'save a little sugar for me darlin'' and she responds 'It's Specialist, not darlin'.' 'oh well excuse me, it's Chief to you then.' Get over yourself, you f'ing b#tch. You mean sh*t to me."
"I wouldn't risk my marriage on you, honey. I don't want my wife to have half of the Harley's, houses, JetSki's, boats, quads, etc"
"Everything was good when I first came in, now since they elected Obama, it's all been downhill. That's why I'm doing this. The Army side is gone to hell."

I wanted to rip this guy out of his chair and shave is DB old guy beard with my plastic fork, but as he's a civilian, I hold no authority. Such a piece of crap, and so vocally proud of it. Why is the government hiring these guys to do jobs Servicemembers should be doing, at double/triple the cost?

Anyway, the lesson here is that BAF is a strange place. Like that of a Hollywood movie set about a war zone, except it's always between takes. I've only been here for a day, but it's evident that life here isn't war. Airmen walking everywhere in the streets, Soldiers riding bicycles around. Tons of hasty billeting and new buildings being constructed. Additional blocks of "Fatty Death Row" in every area like Starbucks.

Redemption? 2Pac. I walked into the Green Bean Coffee shop to blasting "Picture perfect/I paint a perfect picture/Bombin hoochies with precision/My intention to get rich/And with my muthafrakin homie/We some cold ass ninjas on the run" [paraphrased]. Pac isn't dead, he's in Afghanistan. Living right.

That's all I can handle, typing on my phone. Again soon.