Lunch yesterday was surreal.
Well, the food itself wasn't surreal...it was very real - chicken curry, saag paneer, naan...but the diners at my fave Indian restaurant looked like they'd just jumped out of a video game.
So we walk in, and standing at the buffet are guys in camouflage uniforms.
Nothing new there. Huntsville is home to a huge military installation...hot guys in uniform are just a part of the landscape.
Except that these guys weren't hot. And their unis weren't...right. The cammo was weird.
And when one of them turned around, his name patch was in Arabic.
"Um, do you see the guys in line? What's up with them? Dozens of Arab soldiers?" asked I.
"They have UAE patches on their right arms - you can't see them from there. They're friendlies" says Friend.
"Well, I figured they're friendlies. I doubt they'd be heaping chicken tikka onto their plates quite so casually if this was their last meal before taking us all out in a blaze of gunfire."
"The aren't armed."
"Shut up."
:: I chewed thoughtfully on a piece of naan::
"Do you think they'd let me take their picture? You know, for the blog?" :: chew, chew::
"If you are serious, you're asking them by yourself. I'm having nothing to do with you and a battalion of middle eastern military men who may or may not appreciate your uncovered head and tight sweater" says Friend.
"This sweater isn't tight."
"NOT the point."
With that, the soldiers - who eat like wolves, out of necessity I suppose - paid their bill and walked out.
The missed opportunity of a lifetime.
The weirdest thing? The all squeezed, clown-car style, into a couple of unmarked, white Crown Victorias.
Making a gross generalization based on Hollywood stereotypes, it really, really did look like a scene from a terrorist movie.
Big, American generic cars, packed with dark, mustachioed men dripping in military gear.
And I didn't get a picture. DAMMIT.
Well, the food itself wasn't surreal...it was very real - chicken curry, saag paneer, naan...but the diners at my fave Indian restaurant looked like they'd just jumped out of a video game.
So we walk in, and standing at the buffet are guys in camouflage uniforms.
Nothing new there. Huntsville is home to a huge military installation...hot guys in uniform are just a part of the landscape.
Except that these guys weren't hot. And their unis weren't...right. The cammo was weird.
And when one of them turned around, his name patch was in Arabic.
"Um, do you see the guys in line? What's up with them? Dozens of Arab soldiers?" asked I.
"They have UAE patches on their right arms - you can't see them from there. They're friendlies" says Friend.
"Well, I figured they're friendlies. I doubt they'd be heaping chicken tikka onto their plates quite so casually if this was their last meal before taking us all out in a blaze of gunfire."
"The aren't armed."
"Shut up."
:: I chewed thoughtfully on a piece of naan::
"Do you think they'd let me take their picture? You know, for the blog?" :: chew, chew::
"If you are serious, you're asking them by yourself. I'm having nothing to do with you and a battalion of middle eastern military men who may or may not appreciate your uncovered head and tight sweater" says Friend.
"This sweater isn't tight."
"NOT the point."
With that, the soldiers - who eat like wolves, out of necessity I suppose - paid their bill and walked out.
The missed opportunity of a lifetime.
The weirdest thing? The all squeezed, clown-car style, into a couple of unmarked, white Crown Victorias.
Making a gross generalization based on Hollywood stereotypes, it really, really did look like a scene from a terrorist movie.
Big, American generic cars, packed with dark, mustachioed men dripping in military gear.
And I didn't get a picture. DAMMIT.
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