I'm pressed for time, so again I'll make a short post.
Again, it's a borrowed computer.
I might be able to continue if I can get to the boat and use their machine.
Anyway, yesterday was a zoo, travel, VERY short notice and general chaos. I got to the airport at 1300 and knew I was very early.
I had promised one of the womenz at work my spare helmet and goggles for some reason. I also had my usual set for motorcycle/Miata driving in my carry on, along with my scarf. I was wearing my usual flight jacket and I was at the airport.
So here I am at an airport, with my scarf, helmet, goggles and the biggest troublemaker if all.
I had too much time on my hands.
Before I got to the TSA check in I spotted a target of opportunity, an Air Force Academy Cadet, obviously a Doolie. A forst year cadet.
I donned the helmet, goggles and wrapped the scarf around my neck and walked up to the Cadet who seemed to have just arrived home for Christmas leave. He was with his parents.
"How ya doin, Sonny? I see you're at the Academy." He looked shocked, his father looked amused.
I shook his hand, 'I just wantedto tell ya that you young fellas are doin' one hell of a real fine job keepin' em flyin'. Damned fine job, damned fine."
Then I swapped to my normal voice, "Have a good holiday with your folks," I said. His face lit up and he thanked me.
The kid had that look of a stunned Doolie as I walked off, the father recovered. He laughed.
Then I headed over to TSA to check in. I was still wearing the rig and expected to be really torn up going through because I was traveling on a last minute ticket.
The TSA guy took one look at me and smirking, he asked me, "Been a while since you've flown?"
"Just got offa cropduster, Young fella." I replied, and he chuckled.
I tossed my stuff on the conveyer and just went on through. It had never been this easy.
Go figure.
I went to the gate early and scoped out the area and got my bearings.
I had an hour to kill, so I kept a keen eye for service men and made it a point to have something nice to say to them. When I got on the plane, the pilot had the door open. He was watching the passengers board.
I looked at him. 'Hey, Sonny, If ya get in a lurch and need a hand, I'll be in aisle 12-C," I said to him.
The look I got was like a guy trying to close one eye and fart because I knew he didn't know whether to shit or go blind.
The rest of the flight was uneventful and I stashed my gear upon landing.
I had to get to work.
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