I am sitting at work and start getting emails from fifteen years ago. They are sent to my old Marine email but forwarded to my Navy email. I am confused but someone says my account has been reactivated and the Marines need me. I have to go see them. I’m on orders.  

I walk to the warehouse that looks like it’s on a flight line. The Marines are all male and they ignore me with their eyes and their words, specifically talking around me. I’m used to this kind of behavior; it’s synonymous with men who want you to know that you are scum; that only their attention is what gives your life any worth. So by ignoring me these men make themselves seem more important than they actually are. 

I listen to them lazily. I’ve also learned that if you try to add to the conversation men like these will openly ignore you, which is somehow worse than them acting like you don’t exist in the first place. They are talking about how they desperately need someone to troubleshoot but they have no one who knows what they are doing. Their one option is this 18 year old boy who knows nothing. He is told that he needs to join the platoon and learn from Lo. I think this is ridiculous because Lo isn’t even in the Marines anymore. He was kicked out for being a drug addict. But perhaps they are so desperate for someone to help that they recalled Lo as a contractor? 

Sometime during this exchange the group of men realize that I am intelligent enough to do what they need and more. Their attention shifts to me and they demand I tell them my certifications. I start with CCNP, CISSP, and they cut me off and demand I help them immediately. I laugh and say that I have more important matters to take care of than some lowly Marine ground unit. But I realize this isn’t what to say or how I should convey my lack of respect of the problem they brought upon themselves. I rewind the dream. And instead I say “I understand your problem but I am already engaged with other work. In fact, they are calling me now.” I pull out my work cell phone and start fiddling with the emails. I suddenly realize I’m in a green ball gown?

These old crusty Marines demand that they will call me off of whatever work I am doing and I am REQUIRED to help them. At that point I openly laugh in their faces and tell them to go ahead, please, it will be fun to watch their demands get turned down by the Navy. They are appalled by my response and demand to know what is so important that they are not getting what they want. I say “oh I dunno, maybe every ship and shore in the US Navy?” Fucking dweebs. 

I know that a part of my refusal to help is because of how they treated me when I arrived. And I don’t care. I know I’m hated from the moment I arrive at that location. Why would I help them?