Waiting for Breakfast

I was relieved from work this morning at 7am and headed over to the dining facility to meet some friends for breakfast.  While I was waiting outside for them to arrive, I saw some very interesting people.  There were two extremely thin blonde females that appeared from around the corner.  There is a smoking area 50 feet from the entrance to the dining facility and they stopped to have a smoke.  They were speaking a foreign language, and I can’t even begin to assume which language they were speaking, so I decided to ad-lib my own words. 

Girl 1-I am really hungry today, do you think we should go in and get something to eat?
Girl2-What? There is food in this building?  I thought this was just our special spot to smoke when we got hungry.
Girl1-Yes, there is a bunch of tempting delicious fatty foods in there which is why we can’t go in.  We don’t want to look like those fat Americans now do we?
Girl2-Oh, no of course not, but this is where all the fat comes from?  Good thing these cigarettes cure these strange pains in my stomach.
Girl1-Oh yes, see that American girl there, she is also not sure if she wants to go in, but she will eventually, just look at her.

That was the conversation in my head anyway, and I must have had something right in that conversation because when they were done smoking, they returned to where they appeared from and it was not the inside of the dining facility.

Then I saw an older woman walking along the side of the road.  It is not strange to see people conducting physical training along the roads, but this woman was different.  She was approximately 45 years of age, perhaps a little older, and wearing spandex shorts and an under armour type t-shirt.  Normally, this outfit would not call out to me as disturbing, however her shirt was tucked into her spandex shorts and she obviously spent a lot of money on workout clothes to simply walk around dusty Kandahar.  She was not fat, she was average, but who tucks a shirt into spandex shorts when not conducting anything short of a cartwheel?

Next, I saw a British woman pull up in a militarily painted Land Rover.  She was by herself and the truck obviously had no windows.  As I was standing there, she hopped out of the truck and looked around.  She saw me standing there and looked me up and down.  She did a slow walk around of the truck looking in all the places there should have been a window present.  Then she slung her weapon over her shoulder, gave me one more up and down glance, and walked towards the dining facility.  I don’t think she trusted me to stand next to her truck for some odd reason. 

Finally my friends arrived and we went inside to eat.  Today is the first time I noticed a true language barrier between the guy dishing my food and what I was asking him to put on the plate.  I asked for a small amount of bacon and pinched my fingers together to make what I thought was the universal sign for small.  I ended up with a plate of bacon.  I asked him if they had French toast today and he puts two pieces of fried dough on top of my plate of bacon.  I asked him for a large bowl of grits thinking that maybe this guy has the words small and large mixed up in the translator in his head.  I ended up with a large bowl of grits.  At least he understood something and I still had a good breakfast. 

As we were eating, I looked around the dining facility to notice some of the civilian contractors.  A few larger individuals were sitting close by and I noticed their trays were overflowing with food.  I wondered if they knew the dining facility handed out food four times a day every day.  Do they eat like that at every meal?  That would explain why they were so large.  Do they know there are gyms available here?  Then my thoughts went back to the two thin smoking blondes.  Maybe the conversation I created in my head was completely accurate because it was holding true, fat Americans eating all the tempting fatty delicious food.