addiction
back during our BMT days, the requirement was for us to keep our boots black. just mash some black kiwi in with the brush and that was good. simple enough, until one day close to our POP date, some asshole decided to polish his parade boots till they were shiny.
we looked at his gleaming boots and looked back at our crusty ones. this wasn't going to end well. out came the equipment: water, cloth, some bigger assholes even upped it with cotton wool and lighters to burn the polish.
we didn't have much free time back then, but still managed to spend a sizeable amount of time sitting in the corridors polishing our boots as though we had nothing better to do. all this for the sake of looking handsome on our POP day.
in our minds, we pictured ourselves standing in file, so tall and proud and our boots would glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting the light all the way to our loved ones in the stands, and they'll be in awe of how handsome we looked.
and when that day finally came, all our trouble was for nothing. i can tell you, not a single parent/sibling/girlfriend gave even a tiny fuck about how shiny our boots were. and looking at the indistinguishable mess of people in the stands, it was obvious that we looked just like a bunch of green fucks to them too.
i thought my boots were shiny then, but who knew that it was after my POP that i would learn just how damn shiny boots could be. on the first day, our instructor was telling us our uniform requirements, how our uniform should be ironed (FUCK) and how our boots should be shined.
"i want to be able to count my teeth when i inspect your boots!" i think some of us might have stifled a laugh there. was he joking? how the hell can we do that? that was until he showed us his own shoes. FUCK.
and so out came all the equipment again, and this time it really turned into an obsession. we were voluntarily spending literally hours polishing our boots. yes, they were shiny enough to pass the uniform inspection, but they sure as hell weren't shiny enough for us!
for 8 months, we polished away. things really got out of hand closer to our POP date. we learnt nothing from the past, and started having the same grand images in our head again. this time though i think our boots might have left at least some impression because they were really shiny as hell.
after that day i was like fuuuuuuck this shit and i didn't polish my shoes for the entire year i had left. recently i had to go for reservist and i pulled my shoes out of the closet. the plan was to kiwi it a little but things quickly escalated...
i managed to stop myself halfway through before things got crazy so they're not up to my standards yet. it kinda irked me knowing that i couldn't count my teeth in them. recently i bought some shoes for work and i'm already harbouring dirty thoughts...
my name is ryan and i'm an addict.
we looked at his gleaming boots and looked back at our crusty ones. this wasn't going to end well. out came the equipment: water, cloth, some bigger assholes even upped it with cotton wool and lighters to burn the polish.
we didn't have much free time back then, but still managed to spend a sizeable amount of time sitting in the corridors polishing our boots as though we had nothing better to do. all this for the sake of looking handsome on our POP day.
in our minds, we pictured ourselves standing in file, so tall and proud and our boots would glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting the light all the way to our loved ones in the stands, and they'll be in awe of how handsome we looked.
and when that day finally came, all our trouble was for nothing. i can tell you, not a single parent/sibling/girlfriend gave even a tiny fuck about how shiny our boots were. and looking at the indistinguishable mess of people in the stands, it was obvious that we looked just like a bunch of green fucks to them too.
i thought my boots were shiny then, but who knew that it was after my POP that i would learn just how damn shiny boots could be. on the first day, our instructor was telling us our uniform requirements, how our uniform should be ironed (FUCK) and how our boots should be shined.
"i want to be able to count my teeth when i inspect your boots!" i think some of us might have stifled a laugh there. was he joking? how the hell can we do that? that was until he showed us his own shoes. FUCK.
and so out came all the equipment again, and this time it really turned into an obsession. we were voluntarily spending literally hours polishing our boots. yes, they were shiny enough to pass the uniform inspection, but they sure as hell weren't shiny enough for us!
for 8 months, we polished away. things really got out of hand closer to our POP date. we learnt nothing from the past, and started having the same grand images in our head again. this time though i think our boots might have left at least some impression because they were really shiny as hell.
after that day i was like fuuuuuuck this shit and i didn't polish my shoes for the entire year i had left. recently i had to go for reservist and i pulled my shoes out of the closet. the plan was to kiwi it a little but things quickly escalated...
i managed to stop myself halfway through before things got crazy so they're not up to my standards yet. it kinda irked me knowing that i couldn't count my teeth in them. recently i bought some shoes for work and i'm already harbouring dirty thoughts...
my name is ryan and i'm an addict.
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