Three U.S. army officers walk into a Canadian bar …

Have you heard this one before?

Right. So I woke up this morning actually able to breathe…let me tell you why.

5 months ago A.K.A. the first week of September A.K.A. the week I moved back to Vancouver, had an interview for a new job that afternoon, got the job and started 3 days later, DD and I went out to one of Vancouver’s Irish pubs. Just to catch up and have a few pints. As we’re sitting there enjoying ourselves and, of course, the great Canadian beer, we spot three men…did I say men? Let me rephrase this, we saw three boys attempting to pass themselves off as men. Yes, this sounds harsh, but if you saw them I guarantee you would agree with me on this one. They caught us looking at them so we quickly turned away. This was our muffled conversation:

DD: Oh my God…I think they’re coming this way.
Me: Seriously? Stop looking at them.
DD: Pretend we’re having a deep conversation.
Me: I think it’s too late.
DD: Why is it always us?
Me: Because we’re the youngest looking girls here.
DD: Shh …they’re here.

Being the polite people that we are, we humoured these boys. They told us that they were members of the US Army. We asked them if they were actually legal … in Canada. They assured us they were. Right. They complained about their current situations. Explained to us that they were given a choice to either join the army or be sent to prison because of Marijuana possession charges. DD and I gave each other a “the US Army is made up of a bunch of young men trying to avoid jail time” look and just as we were making our “exit”, they offered to buy us another beer. We shrugged and thought, a free pint? Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

We endured another half hour of their mind numbing pissing contest banter. At one point they were complaining about how they hated the US Army. So I asked them what they thought about Bush? The one boy, who shouted when he spoke, replied and I quote, “they’re ok”. I replied with a “huh?” and he said, “oh, I said the bands ok”. DD and I looked at each other again…both thinking are these guys for real? I clarified my question and said, “no, I mean what do you think about George Bush, you know the man who made you join the army, the man who’s sending you away to fight this ‘War on Iraq’?” They responded simply, “he gave us a raise, so I’m gonna vote for him again”. DD and I knew it was time for us to leave…my genius idea was to give them my number so that they could “call us later” if we wanted to meet up. A call that I never intended to answer…and lucky me, they never called.

Now, let’s jump forward 5 months to January 23, 2005. After a night of many hours of dancing (BTW—my body STILL feels like it’s been subjected to a 25km run…without stretching afterwards) I checked my voice mail for any missed messages.

Most of them were for my roommates, one of them was from my mom, and then there was this one : “Hey Bry, it’s Trav, give me a call at 715-###-####. Okay, bye”. My first reaction was, Bryanna? Did you give your number to someone last night? This was highly unlikely considering the “nature” of this club, if you know what I mean, plus it was made before I actually entered the bar that night. I checked for the number on my caller ID and was dumbfounded to see that it said “Wisconsin”. Wha? Huh?

From what I remembered I had NEVER met anyone from Wisconsin let alone someone by the name of Travis. But who could it be? I dissected the message. He sounded nervous, but also like he knew me, and then I thought, wait a second he called me “Bry”…. no one calls me Bry, unless they’ve known me for a long time. Could it be? Has someone actually tracked down my number from my Blog? Is it possible? I soon realized that, yes, it was possible ( I have since then removed my e-mail address because of this). I called the number back but only got his voice mail. I left a brief message and proceeded to completely freak out.

Yesterday, DD and I were discussing this situation. You know, going through the people we’ve met and figuring out if there was any other explanation. Then she suggested, “what about those guys we met back in September?” The second she said it I knew that’s who it was. I hung up the phone with her and called his number again. This time he answered.

Trav: Hello?
Me: Is this Travis?
Trav: Yes.
Me: Hey, this is Bry. How do I know you?
Trav: I think we met back in September.
Me: Oh thank God! Look, this is costing me a fortune, take care. Bye.

So, the mystery is solved and I can officially breathe again. Let this be a lesson to anyone who is also “loose” when is comes to giving out his or her number. It will come back to haunt you. Be smart. Say no. Or at least give them the wrong number.


[THIS IS IN NO WAY A U.S. BASHING POST OR IN ANY WAY POLITICALLY MOTIVATED. IT IS JUST A TALE OF TRUE EVENTS IN THE SAGA KNOWN AS MY LIFE]