Something About Change

In the late 90s, while serving in the military, I had a group of battle buddies I’d travel with on long weekends. We were young soldiers, always searching for ways to escape life around the base. 

When we weren’t visiting each other’s families, we devised a brilliant plan: Visit random cities by hanging up a map, throwing a dart, and going wherever it landed. Let’s be clear: We were all lower enlisted, so this was budget traveling. What we lacked in money, we made up for in creativity.

We agreed only to use first names, which went against the norm since we mostly knew each other by last names. Plus, we were part of a fugitive response team looking for soldiers who went AWOL (Absent Without Leave). We were trying to be clever. Remember, this was an era before shows like NCIS—because who had time for TV? Looking back it was the dumbest idea ever, so don’t judge. 

Most of our trips were fun but forgettable. You’d return to the base with great stories, but within a week, they’d fade. We saw some wild things, but the place I least expected to leave a lasting impression was **El Dorado, Arkansas**.

When we first arrived, we thought this trip would be a bust. Rolling two cars deep, we got separated along the way. Because of cell phone limitations, we left a quick message for the trailing vehicle: “Hey, we arrived. We’re grabbing food and waiting to see the next move.”

As we sit there, a car screeches into the pump across from us and out hops these beautiful women. I look around at my boys, and their eyes say what I’m thinking: “Hey, this might not be a bad place after all.”

These women weren’t there for gas or the store—they came to talk to us. The problem? There were two of them and four of us, with four more on the way. My two boys were actively pursuing these women, and it’d take an act of Congress to get them to leave.

After pumping gas, I try to wrap up the conversation: “Hey ladies, we’re grabbing food. Any tips on where to go tonight?” But my wrap-up was countered with, “Why don’t we just come with you and figure it out.” It’s still only two females, so there’s nothing to get excited about. I replied, “You can come; we’re heading to Burger King.” They replied, “Cool, we’ll follow you.”

We went to Burger King, ordered food, and took over a little section. The next few hours flew by; these women put a spell on us. We decided to stay for the weekend, checked into a local hotel, and waited for our trailing car.

When they arrived, the girls multiplied from 2 to 8, coming in every complexion from dark chocolate to caramel. I stayed alert while my boys had the time of their lives. I thought, “No way this small town produced all these women; they’re here entertaining strangers.” I decided not to drink—this could be a setup.

That night was a movie for my guys: dancing, eating, drinking, laughing. I can’t lie; I wanted to let loose, but in my mind, they’d get us once I let down my guards. The night ended, and everyone went their separate ways. The girl I was with decided to leave, but her parting words stumped me: “Don’t worry, I know the military is: Don’t ask I won’t tell.” I thought, “What in the whole…? I was protecting my boys; I’m not gay.”

The rest of the weekend flew by. My boys had the time of their lives. Two were ready to commit to their ladies. One couple got married and settled down. I attended his wedding with a few guys from that weekend. At the wedding, I relaxed, saw the girl I partnered with, and we had a good time. By night’s end, she knew I was babysitting my boys that night, but I was interested.

We kept in touch for a while. I got shipped overseas, but her letters got me through tough times. Each letter carried her perfume’s scent, keeping me going. Eventually, the letters stopped. One day, I got a letter from her friend, with a copy of a picture of us from that first weekend and her obituary.

I kept all her letters, reading and rereading them daily until her scent faded. Her last line read, “Don’t ever stop making people laugh; your smile could brighten anyone’s day.”

Time to throw your dart:

Have you ever had an unexpected encounter that left a lasting impression on you? Share your tales of adventure and connection in the comments below. Whether it’s a spontaneous trip or a chance meeting that changed your perspective, we’d love to hear your stories.

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