a pickle is a terrible thing to waste.....

I was standing in line at the PX today. The computers were down, again, and the line was long. The air conditioner wasn't working, and it was 110 inside. The trucks must have come in. Sometimes we can go two weeks without anything being restocked. And when you are serving twenty thousand people, supplies don't last long. And the good supplies like tampons, crackers, shampoo, and chocolate, disappear almost immediately.

Today it looks like we are well stocked. We have twenty boxes of Cheez-Its, soda and graham crackers, Triscuits, even Club crackers (!). And, much to my surprise, we have giant pickles. Yes, world, we have GIANT pickles. Joy! Christmas has come early to Iraq this year! The GIANT pickles are here!

Hmmm. They are just to my right as I wait in the line that hasn't moved in ten minutes, but there is a soldier in front of me, and one behind me. No privacy to peruse the GIANT pickle selection, and they are so GIANT that I feel I need privacy. I nonchalantly look to the shelf, The GIANT pickles are right next to a selection of ten types of chew in colorful cans. My plan to divert attention is thwarted with the unfortunate placement of chew next to the desired pickle object. I casually look up, and see not only one type of GIANT pickle, but five, all vertically posed, an allusion to the sudden burgeoning free-market of Iraqi pickle-porn. My heart be still.

Now, I am not going to question the actual alimentary need for GIANT pickles in Iraq. But, I tell you, with certain battery-operated devices banned by the Muslims, certain movies and magazines grounds for a very long jail term, and certain websites restricted on our very, very, very filtered computers, the mere sight of this row of GIANT pickles makes me throb. I have been alone for what seems like forever. And given that I am living in Testosterone City, being in a personal drought for extended periods is a very difficult thing to deal with.

I will, for the moment, ignore the fact that they are green. Sometimes you have to put that aside. But they are large. And nubby. And did I mention they are large? My cheeks flush. I am suddenly embarrassed to be thinking such things about innocent pickles. But, frankly, this is just unfair. The soldiers stand around and thumb through "fitness" mags that are more explicit than most Really Hot Biker Slut magazines, while the "women's section" has two three-month old copies of Oprah, one torn copy of People, and twenty three copies of African Hair Monthly.

But to make things even more suspicious, in addition to the GIANT pickles that have suddenly appeared, the digital photo processing corner has been replaced with some self-serve hot dog machines. And, the hot dogs are not your normal 6" All American Take-Me-to-the-Ballgame Beefy Dogs. These mothers are 12" with sufficient girth to make Long John Silver tremble in fear. I haven't worked up the nerve to approach the hot dogs yet. I haven't seen any women approach these hot dogs. Ever.

Suddenly, this seems like a plot. A plot to weaken women, bring them to their knees, flash all kinds of suggestive food items in front of them, cruelly taunting them, distracting them, making us completely unable to do our jobs. I close my eyes to block it out, but can only see the refrigerator scene in 9 1/2 Weeks.

But the pickles, well, the pickles are a different matter. I cannot hide from the pickle onslaught. I am standing right next to them. Right in their GIANT pickle shadow. And I am suddenly finding it hard to breathe, surrounded with so many nubby, girthy, standing-at-attention GIANT pickles. I look around the store. Have they sold many pickles, I wonder? I look up at the pickles again. They are huge. I strain my neck trying to glimpse the price on the GIANT pickles without obviously showing interest in said pickles. My mind is spinning now. I can hear it: "Price check for this lady on sixteen GIANT pickles, regular seasoning." I blink, as if I can shake free of my spasmodic pickle fantasies. Would my GIANT pickle need pickle protection? I am momentarily relieved that I have luckily chosen today for my runaway pickle fantasy, when the PX is well stocked with five types of protection, neatly lined up near the checkstand. God forbid that the pickle protection is sold out, yet the pickles remain!

Lord, help me be strong.