The woman that run the National Matches

probably do not have asses when the matches are over. That's because they have worked them off.

Over the years I have wandered past the CMP offices after a late night out and have seen them sleeping at their desks or sacked out on the floor of their offices trying to catch a nap before another day of just plain hard times.

They certainly deserve a lot more credit than they get and I remember the year I was signing in and saw some jerk 

Normally I stay out of things but I walked into that one ready to swing. The first words to the clown were, "Hey, Asshole!" and he started to say something before I cut him off with a "Those women  work their asses off to make everyone happy. Give them a break. Shut up or put up and meet me behind the building."

Those women didn't deserve being mistreated simply because some moron didn't get squadded with his buddy pals. 

About an hour later this clown started to rearrange the barracks to suit his taste. 

The guy was griping about the housing assignment people. I started to say something I was interrupted by someone else that had his gear moved and was incensed. So were a couple of other guys and they all rat packed him and he cringed and backed off.

The job of organizing thousands of shooters at several matches is really a chore, either the matches themselves or the housing of competitors. The people that make this work, mainly women are swamped.

Sometimes the job needs a little help and I well remember the time me and an indicted co-conspirator  pranked the girls a bit.

I had someone with me and I took his arm as we entered to register. I was wearing dark sunglasses and carrying a white cane. I was led to the first stop the Sp/4 t the desk took one look at me and offered to fill the forms out for me. Apparently they had been briefed to help the handicapped. I gave her my information and she filled the forms in.

My co-conspirator then led me over to the CMP girl who looked shocked. She asked me if I could shoot without eyesight.

"Last year I hit the target twice," I said cheerfully and added indignantly "Every single one of my rounds landed safely in Lake Erie." 

My co-conspirator added, "His target puller blows an air horn when it's OK to shoot and he shoots at the sound."

She looked dubious.

Just then I lowered my sunglasses. "Shhh..." I said, "I'm just working on my excuse for if I don't do very well this year."

I thought she would die laughing and I know I had made her day and gave he job a little well needed help.








To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY