Out of the Army in 80 Days

Barring further catastrophic occurrences in the Middle East, war with China, war with Russia, war with both China and Russia, or Armageddon (although war with China and Russia would most likely be Armageddon) I am not going to be subject to a stop-loss order. I will be separating from the Army in less than 80 days. 68 days actually, I just happen to be a bit of a Jules Verne fan. Also, I was busy when the 80 day mark passed.
The Army makes an effort to prepare soldiers for civilian life. To that end I spent the majority of this week in ACAP meetings. ACAP is an acronym describing the organization that guides the soldier in his transition. What ACAP stands for would be easy to look up if I actually cared to expend the effort. The meetings were informative, if a little dull at times. I confess to repeatedly succumbing to the siren song of the Sandman.
The people I met at the meeting were interesting - one was a high ranking officer who dealt with secret research projects, a couple were retiring Command Sergeant Majors (the highest enlisted rank in the Army excluding the Sergeant Major of the Army. I wonder what his ACAP meetings would be like!), but most were young soldiers like me. What we all had in common was our eagerness to be free. We were instructed to use first names and wear civilian clothes. Most were only to happy to comply.
Instruction was aimed at re-integrating us into the job force. We learned how to dress, how to speak, how to compose a resume, how to look for a job, and how to network among other things. We also learned about the benefits we were entitled to because of our military service and how best to take advantage of them.
I learned several things:

1. My resume is a haphazard, slovenly mess.
2. Employers will probably hire me anyway, eventually.
3. Certain women think I am Drop Dead Gorgeous. (DDG TM)

The last realization came during casual conversation with some buddies from my Battalion who were also in the class. What led to the stunning relevation (stunning for me anyway) was a casual discussion about wayward wives and how best to deal with them. In one case in particular, I recommended that a fellow soldier "Check that **". Somehow I reached a level of candor and openness with the soldier I was talking to that he felt comfortable saying, "My wife wants to **** you."
I stammered the wittiest reply I could, and then immediately demanded an explanation. Knowing a coworker's wife desired carnal knowledge (while flattering) was unsettling. He explained that her stated desire to perform the horizontal wild animal tango stemmed from an incident at a local nightclub last Fall. A local radio station was holding a sexy pajama contest for tickets to a Ying Yang twins concert. Believing the prize to be one hundred dollars I entered out of a naked desire for cold hard cash. Dressed in a black tank top, Old Navy pajama bottoms adorned with American flags, and Homer Simpson slippers borrowed from a helpful cook, I stole the collective heart of the female attendees at the club. It probably helped that I somehow lost the tank top in the course of the contest. (The stupid thing wouldn't stay on!)
So my buddy's wife saw me there and told her husband. He told me.
Oh and the Ying Yang twins never showed up at the concert. DOH!