The barracks is a soul-draining and depressing place.
It’s a place where Marines drown their chronic depression with excessive alcoholism, cable TV and video gaming.
There’s usually almost nothing to do in the barracks unless you have a vehicle, which is primarily used to escape the barracks to get more alcohol.
Fuck, I hated living in the barracks. Here’s a list of some of my reasons why:
* I hated how almost everything was broken in your room and you were supposed to fix it.
* I hated living in rooms with the centrally-controlled A/C blasting during the winter because it “saves money.” When the A/C is needed during the summer, it’s usually broken.
* I hated living with roommates.
* I hated living around drunkards.
* I hated living in a place where you had to field day every Thursday.
* I hated barracks duty.
* I hated the fact that you can’t escape the grasp of your command since they know where you live.
One day, I had a new guy join my platoon. After work, we all went back to the barracks. Later that day, I walked outside of my room to get some fresh air and I saw him sitting on a chair hunched over. I walked closer to him and I heard him wheezing like he was going to die. I asked him, “Are you okay?” He said, “Can’t… breathe… too much… mold…” The next day, he bought some dehumifiders to help fight against the mold.
In California, my toilet started to “explode” whenever I flushed. Oh, what fun. I contacted the BEQ Manager to help me out. A week later, a guy had his ceiling collapse with water going everywhere. Another week later, my toilet was fixed.
There’s a reason why Marines rush to get married and getting out of the barracks is up there in the list on reasons why. Hell, I would have gotten married to move out of the barracks. The only thing keeping me from doing so is the fact that divorce is expensive as fuck.
Living in the ghettos since 1775.