Hey everybody. True story, when I got back from ’Nam I bout a wig that pretty much matched my hair color. It was so I could go into the city without being harrassed by the anti-war civilians. Marine Corps frowned on long hair. My mother-in-law to be asked for my car keys to get something out of the trunk. I forgot the wig was laying on top of clothes in an open ditty bag. She opened the trunk and let out a scream that curdled buttermilk. My future father-in-law camw out the door with his gun. My intended and I figured out what happened real quick but my m-i-l, to be, took a while to settle down. I think that was a two valium event.