Unqualified LTJG Shocked CAC is Still in Wallet After Weekend Bender

Holy shit, there’s no way. No fucking way, but after 36 hours of sustained debauchery, it might be true. Yes king, you wake up alone on the streets with your phone dead and a stray pit bull sniffing your asshole. You’re dazed and confused. Your house keys are definitely gone, and your wallet is too.

That sense of panic sets in. Like a cold, wet towel over your unqualified, useless soul. You lost your CAC. No! Not again. You’re too hungover to be mad at yourself, but too mad at yourself to let it go.

No, wait. You feel some stiffness in your pocket, in too much disbelief to think it’s real. You feel that familiar plastic against your fingers, and you slowly caress it like a beautiful women. You feel the chip token too.

This might be it. You hold your breath and pray to Nimitz that this is your CAC and not your stupid fucking red debit card.

You pull it out, the angels sing and the clouds part. You see it, your CAC.

God is good all the time! All the time, God is good!