Welcome to the Army, Mrs. Filcik!

WARNING: This post may contain traces of bitterness and/or resentment. Please take this Army wife with a large grain of salt... perhaps the whole can.

I sauntered into the Verizon store, ready to take on the world. It was finally time to break the metaphorical umbilical cord in the form of the infamous "Family Plan." No more mooching off of my mom. I am a married woman! And I will pay full price for my own phone line!

As I explained the situation to the representative- namely, that my HUSBAND (I'm married, you see:) is in Afghanistan, but I'd like to start my own phone plan and add him on later- I waited for those magical words. Like the sweet strains of a classical symphony or the heart-warming giggles of small children running through a sprinkler, the words danced across the room. "We have a military discount!"

I stood a little taller as I handed my military ID across the counter. Someone's phone went off, and I'm pretty sure it was a rousing rendition of the Star Spangled Banner. I could feel the reverent salutes of the civilians surrounding me, and I graciously encouraged them to be at ease so I could hear the voice of the patient representative.

"Um.... are YOU in the Army?"
"Well, I mean, technically my husband is.... I'm just a ... a... dependent..."
My voice dropped to a whisper.
Like a sorry 3-day old helium balloon, my self-esteem deflated right before me.
"Oh, well, I'm sorry. The discount is only for those actually IN the Army."

This is such a confusing concept for me.

I was pretty sure that on December 21, 2010, I was sworn into the Army. As I recall, I passed under the gleaming sabers of 8 uniformed officers, and heard them say, "Welcome to the Army, Mrs. Filcik!" It was such a life-changing moment for me. There I was, just an innocent pledge-of-allegiance-reciting civilian, being admitted-welcomed- into one of the most prestigious, tight-knit communities in our nation! Let me tell you, I was proud to wear my camouflage high heels that day!

Looking back on our wedding pictures, my husband was a little surprised and disgruntled to see that his saber bearers were smiling! Smiling is not permitted in the Army. In fact, if you are seen smiling, you could be subject to having your lips cut off. It's a pretty extreme measure, but it fits the gravity of the crime. I secretly thought it was darling! and I made Dan promise not to tell on them. Knowing what I do now, though, I realize why they were smiling, and I don't think it's so darling anymore. The moment they welcomed me into the Army, they demoted me to the status of ....

dependent. (The word is deliberately left in lowercase letters.)

Army wives are called dependents because we cannot do anything without our husbands. It's a little-known fact that when our husbands deploy, we stay in bed. For months. With the curtains drawn. We do not eat anything except icecream and Dove Promise chocolates. We do not shower. We never even dream of shaving. Those pictures you see of us painting the house, moving furniture, juggling 3 kids single-handedly, sending care packages, and beating war protestors with our brooms? Those are staged. We have them taken before our husbands leave and then we periodically post them to make you all think that we're ok. But we're not. Because we're dependents. And we pretty much can't do anything on our own. That's why Verizon wouldn't give me a discount for my phone- because I would probably lose it or something without my husband there to help me find it.

Ok, ok, you all know that's NOT true. (Except for the part about not shaving and losing my phone. It's true. I felt really badly for the last Asian lady who massaged my legs when I got a pedicure. I tipped her extra.) The whole "dependent" thing is actually kind of a joke between us Army wives. My husband read a poem at our reception that poked fun at this idea. I love the words it finally used to describe us- FIERCELY INDEPENDENT! That doesn't mean that we don't acknowledge our need for our husbands. It just means that when we need to get the job done, by George, we do it, and we can do it all by ourselves!

Now, I'm not looking for handouts. I don't walk into every store and ask if there's a discount for underprivileged, lonely Army wives. Sometimes, I do wear my "Army Wife" T-shirt in the hopes that someone will notice that I need an extra pat on the back. But, as my well-meaning family reminds me often, I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this. (Thanks, guys, I feel so much better...) It's not Verizon's fault that they can't recognize a soldier when they see one. I am rather short and under-dressed for an active duty servicewomen. But, I would like to give a shout out to the jolly fellow at GNC for giving me his gold discount on the ridiculously oversized tub of protein that I had to buy for my Hulk of a husband... and I would like to personally thank all the people in the security line at the airport who let me cut in front of them so I could see my husband one more time before he left. And it's with tears in my eyes that I gratefully remember the couple who secretly asked that I be upgraded to First Class so that I could be first off the plane to see my soldier. It's people like that who get it.

My Verizon story does have a good ending. After all my ranting, the fact is that I did get my discount. Turns out that teachers get the same discount as military members. Turns out that Verizon DOES get it. Because teaching middle school is pretty much just as tough as facing terrorists armed with explosive devices. For that reason, I dedicate this "Hooah" to you, Verizon!

And, thanks for reminding me that it's just about time to roll over in my bed and eat another tub of icecream:)