A Chamorro Crush

A Chamorro CrushMark Lizama regale his colleagues with a story about his time stationed at Kadena Air Base in Okinawa, Japan. The 5?8?; 155-pound guy with swarthy skin spun a tale about him and a couple of other young airmen, drunk out of their minds from sake, chasing a peacock. To this day, none of them were sure if the bird was real or not. Into the breakroom of the Washington-Leesburg Air Route Traffic Control Center (ARTCC) walked a rather introverted, shrimpy guy with a brownish-yellow complexion.?What?s up, Lynn,? Mark said laughing.?Hi,? the loner replied cautiously while taking a seat at the far end of the table.Mark was rather new to the office having transferred from the control tower at Norfolk International Airport. He strutted towards the quiet coworker and held out a bag of pretzels. ?Have some. I always like something crunchy when I eat a sandwich,? he smiled.?Uhhhh...Thanks!? Lynn poured a few onto a paper towel. Then he took his peanut butter