SSgt Blake “Gibs” Gibson is probably one of my favorite characters I’ve ever written. Well, “written” may be putting it strongly. He’s basically just an amalgam of some good friends who picked up a rifle and served.
If you’re ever about to tell one of them, “thanks”, do make sure you’re not being a dick when you do it.
“Easy,” George said. “Gibs is a Marine Veteran. He tends to look out for people. We know this about him. We’ve all benefited from this attitude many times over, lest any of us forget. It’s a little disingenuous to start complaining when the very attitude that makes him such an asset in our group gets directed at some strangers in need.”
“Yes, George, that’s all well and good but the fact remains,” Edgar interrupted. He turned his attention back to me and said, “First off, thank you for your service-“
“Don’t…you…even…try to start in with that line,” I said.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked, genuinely confused.
“That ‘thank you for your service’ bullshit. It’s what a Vet usually hears right before he’s told that he’s basically wrong and irrelevant. If someone’s gonna tell me I’m full of shit, I want to hear it outright. I don’t want to be buttered up with that line. You know how many times I heard that line right before someone told me in the same breath that I was full of shit and didn’t know what the hell I was talking about? I’ll give you a hint: it’s like a big, old, sloppy blowjob in your basic, garden variety porn. It’s foreplay, Edgar, and you’ve just told me that you like it rough.”