Military Material

So yesterday there was this thing at school called the Happening. Every school club, every greek, most every restaurant, bank, and clinic was there. Radio stations brought their speaker-laden vans and threw open their blaring back doors. The Redcross held a blood-drive.

If a student was to walk among these booths, (s)he could expect to find, completely free:
pens
pencils
fans
music posters
cds
suntan lotion
hairspray
axe
condoms
a myriad of candy
snowcones
pizza
sodas
water
ice cream
and various paper goods, like coupons for free/cheap/discounted food at eateries across town, discounts on salon services, etc.

The armed forces were also there. And as I walked among the tables, I was stopped by each. First was the army.
"You! Ma'am! Do you know how many career opportunities are in the army for you?"
I looked at him and raised my eyebrows. "Do I look like military material to you?"
"Yes," he replied, looking me up and down. I shook my head and walked on.

Next was the Air Force.
"You, ma'am! What do you know about the Air Force?"
Great, a pop quiz. "Do I look like military material to you?" I asked, being lazy and not bothering to think up a new question.
He paused for a minute before answering. "Not really," he finally admitted. I laughed, nodded, and then walked away. Then, I remembered a conversation I'd had, just the previous day, with someone in the Air Force. He had talked about how the Air Force always deploys with cable tv and air-conditioned tents, and that if they have to ship with other branches, like the Navy, they get 'sanitation pay'. So I called the Air Force a bunch of wusses. He somewhat agreed. !!! If I am not considered military material by the wusses of the military, what am I then?!

As I consoled myself, I perused the other booths, and eventually found the marines. Unlike the other two branches, which had tents and televisions touting how great they were, the two marines sat there, in the blazing hot sun, unprotected - and not seeming to mind. As I walked past, one of them called out. Of course.
"You! Join the Marines!"
"That's kind of blunt," I said, walking over to the table. Various emblemmed material was spread out over the table. "Do I look like military material to you?"
He smiled and looked at his fellow grunt, who also smiled. They were wicked smiles. "Not right now," I started to nod and walk away, but he continued, "but we can make you military material."

I laughed nervously and left as quickly as panicked politeness allowed.