So there I was; taxiing a KC-135 at Osan. A solitary white pick-up blocks our path. I taxi closer and the pick-up remains. We come to a stop, well clear and begin flashing the landing light. Still nothing. Suddenly, another white pickup zooms into view and a SF dude sprints out toward the stopped vehicle. He opens the door, at which point the clearly bewildered occupant starts flailing wildly as his dreams of sugar plums, soju and juicy girls have been cruelly interrupted. Moral of the story: the taxiway is not for naptimes.