Monday morning I practically marched into base supply headquarters, making others stare at my new recruit appearance. I met the base supply major who gave a quick welcome to Trenton but behave yourself speech. He told me that I was assigned to stationary and cleaning supplies then instructed me to go to the M.P. shack to get a special security pass that was needed to go on the hangar line. I was given a temporary one until mine would be ready and I started the long walk along the hangars to my new workplace. At work I met the grey-haired warrant officer, my direct boss was a female sergeant, there was one corporal, an obese civilian computer operator, and a civilian delivery driver named Aaron. They say first impressions are usually right; making a good first impression is important and I immediately liked the military workers but Aaron was creepy. I don’t know if it was his greasy hair, dirty clothes, or the alcohol on his breath but I’d say it was all the above. And the computer operator seemed overly friendly, fake and I was soon to learn she was a mean gossip as well.

The next couple of weeks I utilized my trades training theory to do practical work like demands, issues, and returns. I really enjoyed meeting other military members from the different hangars that came in; many of them were in coveralls because they were mechanics that worked on the aircraft. The only dark spot on the horizon was Aaron. Although I tried to avoid him it was almost impossible because he did so many deliveries during the day. One day he backed me into a shelf and put his hand on my waist. That was it I told my sergeant what he did and even though it was hard to believe she promised to tell him to back off. I was happy it would be that easy…I was wrong

On Fridays each section on the base i.e. supply, transport, etc. had T.G.I.F. The group would leave minimum staff behind to cover what was always a quiet Friday afternoon and the rest ran to the club wearing their work uniform. It was a time that supply technicians from all the different sections could socialize. When I entered the room I had to man-oeuvre through the crowd to the bar for a pop. My warrant officer was there and he introduced me to lots of people, whose names I had no chance to remember. The majority of the crowd were male and they all wanted to buy me a drink. I hadn’t even drunk half of one when another male bought me another. It got so bad that I had four drinks on the table waiting for me, so I just walked away. I didn’t hold liquor very well and didn’t want to get drunk in front of everyone especially while in uniform. It didn’t take long for me to loathe the over-crowed, male macho, drunk at T.G.I.F. I began to volunteer to stay behind which my co-worker loved.

My problem with Aaron wasn’t solved by any means. When the sergeant was gone and the hangar was deserted he had a way of showing up and bothering me. Aaron made crude remarks about sex and purposely got as physically close to me as he could without actually touching me. Although one afternoon he slipped up and put his arm around my shoulder. The computer operator thought I was lying about the whole thing and she was more than eager to let people know it. I again complained to my sergeant who this time brought up the problem with our warrant officer. He decided to defuse the situation now would be a good time to send me on my TQ 4’s (technical qualification course training level 4).