The Final-Out

The final out was about as mundane appointment as I'd had in my decade in the service. There was a desk in the back of the office in the middle of conversations between coworkers, and there was a still-sleepy lower enlisted person stretched out in the the chair as I walked up.

I set my binder on his desk and waited to be asked to have a seat even though part of me had the mindset of "I can do whatever right now and not care what anyone thinks of me because "what are they going to do, kick me out?". He asked me to sit and he started flipping through the pages, and signatures, and letters from various offices are the base saying you turned in all your shit you've accumulated through your time at your location.

It was quiet for two or three minutes as he checked off stuff on his checklist with a practiced manner I was slightly impressed with, as I hadn't developed the ability to do the same because our OIC chose to change checklists CONSTANTLY. He found the two signatures I hadn't been able to get because they wouldn't sign it because I had an appointment with them set for when I was scheduled for terminal leave. He ended up calling over there and telling them who he was and that I wouldn't be out processed without them. Luckily myself and the Docs had anticipated this and were able to work my appointment through the schedule beyond my final-out, but before my retirement so the office was familiar with the situation and weren't surprised at the phone call.

I was pretty damn mad when I was at the last appointment I would ever have and he wouldn't take initials over the phone. I got over it because it was my last appointment and I have absolutely not-shit to do for the rest of the week.

So I got to walk my happy ass back to my car and drive halfway across base to get the signatures I figured would be no big deal.

I got the signatures and got back to the desk in the noisy office and sat down. He looked at me confused as I was making myself comfortable for whatever thing that I would sign saying I'm no longer going to have a job. He continued to look confused until I got self-conscious and stood back up and he told me to have a nice day and congratulations. It was my turn to look confuse and ask him, "is that it?" and he said yes and told me to have a nice day.

That was it. I had zero responsibility on base and no absolute need to ever come back. Fuck.