It was a rainy, chilly, miserable night out and the Chief was sitting it out in a waterfront bar with some shipmates. One of his buddies glanced out the window and noticed an old man across the street at the bus stop. He was bent and pale and thin and worn out looking, hunched up in a thin coat against the weather. They all agreed it was not a night to be out so they elected the Chief to go over and coax to old fellow into the warmth of the bar.
It took some persuasion and the offer of free beer to get the old man to join the crew at the bar, but join he did. The old gent wasn't too talkative at first, he expressed gratitude for the beer and that was about all. At the point when the bartender signaled for last call, the Chief said, "Well, that's it."
The old man swivelled on his stool and spoke loud and clear for the first time since entering the bar. He said, "No, son. That ain't it...I'll tell you what IT is. You spend 10 years on death row filing appeal after appeat trying to find some court or judge that doesn't want to kill you until there is no one left to appeal to. They bring you whatever you want to eat that last night but it all tastes like sawdust. Before bed they give you the little pill that will purge that last meal so you don't embarass yourself or the screws by loadin' your britches in the morning. Before first light they bring in the papers and read the sentence again in case you forgot what it was. Then the padre starts reading you the Good Book to cheer you up. About 530 the screws come get you and move you off the row to the holding cell next to the chamber where you can hear the techs joking around as they make the chamber ready and check things out. Just before 6 AM they bring you into the prep area to check you over. In the old days when they still used the chair, this was when they shaved your head and legs...no need for that in the chamber, though. Then they sit you in the barber's chair and strap you down...make their last minute checks of the equipment...ask you if you have any last words...then everyone leaves the chamber...they swing that big old heavy door shut...and THAT'S IT."
He walked out through the rain leaving a stunned silence behind. He passed the bus stop and rounded the corner and was gone. It was a quiet ride back to the ship that night...
Whenever he was in the right mood and me or one of my friends chanced to use the expression, the Chief would speak up and tell us, "That's not it...Let me tell you what IT is."