Monday Bitchiness

They closed all but one of the 37 entrances to the gym today and harassed everyone for their ID's upon entry... I, as usual, had left mine in the car during PT, and had to waste five minutes retreiving it lest I be gang tackled and cavity searched by Dwight Schrute's clone, he and his security forces brethren thought it'd be fun to exercise what happens when they go to threat condition RED ALERT SHIT YOUR PANTS DELTA, which according to the official documentation should be officially instituted after worldwide total nuclear war but before the dead walk the earth and lucifer takes over. The gym was, of course, the only building on base that was given this treatment, not the Operations Center in charge of every USAF plane in the pacific, or the airfields servicing all of the state, or the numerous communications relays that serve 3000 miles in every direction- no! the terrorist's target has to be the building full of sweaty meatheads, dependasaurs, and base workers trying to squeeze half a workout into their lunch hour. This makes a lot of sense to me because if I were an al-qaeda operative scoping the base the first bunch of infidels I'd want to schwack is the 11:45 intermediate Tae-Bo class- a bunch of pissed off moms learning to kick ass the Oprah way. Target #2 would probably then have to be the food court, so we'd better put that sucker on lock down, say from the hours of 11 am- 1pm or so... hmmm where else... probably want to lock down the entrance at the front gate around 0700, then the exit at 4 pm or so... prime time that the terrorists would want to access the base.

The bottom line: if I have to jog with my freakin ID card stuffed in my jockeys in the heat of the day (Alas, I have no pockets) the terrorists have already won.

On a happy note, upon returning to the gym I was happy to hand my ID to Dwight for close inspection.