So okay then. Went to speak with the retirement village folks and as long as I don't have TB and can pass a background check they want me to chauffeur their biddies. I'll be out of Lisa's hair, so that'll be a good thing, and my returning-something-to-society thirst will be quenched. This is what happens when Marines age and realize they've not stormed a beach in quite some time. Doesn't matter that chunks of me were left to decorate the landscape in every clime and place not called The Moon. There's this little 'what have you done for me lately' voice that when it's really really quiet you'd swear belonged to FDR.

It'll be my fourth background check this year. Upon arriving in Florida, the first was for my concealed weapons permit, the second for a job I didn't take, and the third was the city wanting to be sure I wasn't going to kidnap any Americans With Disabilities or Veterans and hold them until they freed all of the alligators from Campus Pond. In a way it proves me to be dreadfully boring, but that's kind of a good thing so that the animals and small children can cavort safe in the knowledge that the neighborhood doesn't have a perv or something.

I'll miss the challenge of swinging a 40' bus into a 30' space, but hey, I had some fun and it was time to move on.