I recently read a blog about an F/O who had bad shits after eating his crew meal and nearly incapacitated him. This reminded me of an experience I once had on a trip to Seattle while flying a King Air.
We had a proposed wheels up time of noon. I got to the airport around 1030 to preflight. Around 1115, by some miraculous fuck up on dispatches part, we were now pushed back to a 1430 departure. Fine with me! I love Seattle and since my duty time started at 1100, this now meant that we would be overnighting there. In the meantime, I asked the crew if they'd like to go have lunch. They all agreed and I drove us to a great burger joint around the corner from the airport. I ordered a guacamole burger medium rare... A big mistake, I thought. The conversation was good as I hadn't seen either of the medical crew, Patty and Cindy, in a while. Tim was my co-pilot. Tim didn't smoke, drink or cuss and was a Mormon, so naturally, I didn't trust him. But he was easy enough to get along with and laughed at my jokes, no matter how dirty they were, so I liked him and he was a halfway decent pilot.
The patient arrived and we departed shortly before 1500. We touched down in Reno about 2 hours later for fuel. The patient was ambulatory and disembarked the plane to use the bathroom. Today's patient was an elderly gentleman who had atrial fibrillation and needed medical escort to get home as he needed oxygen and wasn't permitted to fly on the airlines.
I chose Reno as my fuel stop based on past experience. The delectable young lady behind the counter at Jet West and I have history. I won't mention her name but she, and maybe several of you, know who she is. It was great to see her and in retrospect I'm sorry I didn't try and make it back to Reno to overnight. She was a very sweet girl. The old man returned back from the bathroom and we were soon airborne.
Thirty minutes out of Reno it hit me. It came on slow like bad gas that just builds. Soon it turned into cramping of my lower abdomen. What the hell is going on, I thought. Eventually, my discomfort was noticeable to my F/O, as much as I tried to hide it. Tim wasn't actually checked out in the aircraft and legally speaking, was just along for the ride. I didn't want to put him through the undue stress of having to handle the arrival, approach in IMC and landing if I didn't have to. At this point it felt like a tremendous hunger pain. Something I've never felt before in my life. I did the math and it had been almost exactly 8 hours since I had eaten that medium-rare burger, god dammit.
My stomach pain stabilized. This is to say that it didn't get any better or worse, but I was still concerned. Apart from a little heartburn every now and then, I've always had an iron stomach. We set up for the ILS to 13R at Boeing, broke out at 500 feet and touched down without further incident. I didn't let the crew know what was going on until they had put the patient in the ambulance. I was certain I had food poisoning. Our nurse gave me a Zofran, an anti-nausea medication and we got in the rental car and headed for the hotel. I checked in and went straight to my room while the crew went to the adjacent restaurant. I had no idea the night I was in for.
I opened the door to my room and projectile vomited my way to the bathroom. I would have this back and forth routine between the bed and bathroom about a dozen more times throughout the night. It reached the point of dry heaving. I called my flight nurse about 0500 and gave her an update. She came right down with another Zofran, which I promptly threw up. She was great. Kept cold compresses on my head while I struggled to find a comfortable position between fetal, on my back, on my side, on my stomach, on my head, Fuck, anything that would give me temporary relief from the pain I was experiencing. I finally was able to go to sleep around 0600 for a couple of hours.
We met in the lobby at 1100 and my stomach was still wrenching. My pain had become more centralized in my lower right abdomen and I was in obvious pain, as much as I tried to hide it. I was ready to go home. When I showed up, my whole crew commented on how shitty I looked. I told them that we should go to the airport and play it by ear. My flight nurse suggested she hook me up to an IV to restore some fluids and we would wait and see. After 2 liters of saline, my condition hadn't changed. Nurse Cindy called our medical director, a very well respected trauma surgeon and she said since my condition hadn't improved that I needed to go to the ER.
I showed up to the ER with the IV still stuck in my arm. I was quickly moved to the front of the line. Evidently, when you've got tubes and shit hanging out of you, they hustle you through. You learn something new every day. I was put in an examination room were a nurse came in and asked me every god damn question known to man. What's your name? birth date? social security number? Mother's maiden name? When was the last time you wet the bed? Fuck I don't know... Give me some shit to make me feel better. Fine, go pee in a cup.
20 minutes later, a very nice, compassionate doctor came in and gave me the once over. He told me they were a teaching hospital and asked if I would mind having some medical students sit in on the exams, etc. "Sure," I said, "why not?" Well shit, this was a big fucking mistake. For the next 2 hours I had every student in the God damn place asking me the same questions over and over again and poking my very tender abdomen. After the third one came in, a Russian kid, I said "God damn it, just cheat off of the last guy that was in here." He didn't laugh. My flight nurse who stayed faithfully by my side the whole time, laughed her ass off... Poor bastard.
Soon, the attending came in and said my piss tests came back and I had appendicitis. "Well shit, bring on the morphine then," I said. He smiled and nodded. He said he had good news and bad news and asked me which one I wanted first. I've never known how to properly answer this question but I figured what the hell, tell me the good news. The good news was that I would receive the surgery laproscopically, leaving a smaller scar, and the bad news was that the chief attendant would be doing the surgery. This was actually good news, the doc was just fucking with me. He told me a nurse would be in shortly to take me to pre-op. "Great! How 'bout some more morphine, doc?" Granted.
So far, everyone had been really cool, until I got to pre-op. This lady was a bitch. But, she was old and fat, so she obviously was manifesting her hatred for herself onto me, I decided. She said she had heard about me. What the hell does that mean? I thought. My reputation preceded me, I guessed. She became increasingly rude and I hadn't even done anything to her yet. Her rants continued until I asked her if she knew what a treadmill was. We both shut up and not another word was spoken by either of us. Soon the anesthesiologist came in. She was a very nice Russian woman (another Russian? What was it with this place?) and told me what would happen on her end. I didn't care. Let's get the shit over with, I thought. She gave me a shot and said she'd see me after the surgery. This is about the last thing I remember.
I woke up to a doctor shining a flashlight in my eye. "Alright, doc, I'm ready. Let's do this." "It's done," he said. Weird, I thought. "Let me see it. I want to see it." "See what?" the doc said. My appendix, I want to see it." I guess he didn't get this request very often but nonetheless, he brought it over. It looked like a large piece of fat cut from a prime rib. It was white and stretched. "Hours from rupturing," the doc said. They wouldn't let me keep it. I was moved to a room and was well taken care of for the next 30 hours. The pain was relentless, even with the drugs.
I checked out of the hospital 36 hours after entering and Cindy filled my prescription on the way out. 20 Percocet and something to inhibit infection. Patty and Tim caught a commercial flight home the day before as Tim has kids and Patty needed to get back for some other reason. My chief pilot would be commercialing in himself to fly me home. I'll never hear the end of this, I thought. I'm about to be a patient in my own plane. He met us at BFI and we were soon airborne for the 4 hour flight home.
My chief pilot drove my car to my house and caught a cab from there. What a great guy. He never had a word on condescension. A couple of joking prods was about it. My only concern was the percocet. I wondered how long I would be grounded from taking it. The next day I called Oklahoma City and got a very sweet, hot sounding Sooner on the phone. I told her the situation and she said she would look it up for me and asked me to hold. After a long hold she finally came back and said, "now what was the name of the drug?" "Percocet," I said. She had me spell it. "Ummm... 6 months." "6 months, what," I said. "6 months you have to be off of it before you can return to flight." "Oh, thank God," I said. "What, you haven't taken any yet," she asked. "No, I'm just glad I didn't tell you my name." Click!
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
In Case You Were Wondering
Before I get too far into telling you these stories, I feel like I should try and build a little bit of credibility. Since I was very young, my passion was airplanes and the aviation industry itself. My goals used to be much loftier. Instead of being a career pilot, my plan was to sell airplanes. I still have plans to go into sales, but unless you've been living under a rock for the last couple of years, its not exactly the right time to be in aircraft sales. So I'll fly in the meantime.
I've always considered myself very charismatic, outgoing and persuasive. I've always been the type of person that gets what he wants. Friends have often asked me how I'm so successful with women. I've never been able to put my finger on the secret to my success. If I were able to do this, I would have written a book by now and made millions. One thing I can tell you is that if you are able to lower your standards slightly, it opens you up to a much larger pool of women. I'll be the first to admit that I have slept with some women that I would never let anyone I know see me with.
Nevertheless, I'll try to divulge the secret to my success. There are several important things to consider, that I've found, when talking to women. Most importantly is to smile and nod. When you're smiling, it lets them think you're interested. Eye contact is also very important. I always try to find a topic of common ground. If they're interested in my job or flying, I'll talk about that, but never tell them anything without them asking first. It's good to be a little arrogant without them knowing it. If I sense, which I'm very good and quick at, that they're losing interest, I will either move onto another topic or move on to the next girl. My quickness to move to the next target is totally dependant on my level of interest or the radar going off to the lack of theirs. I always try to be noticed when I walk into a room without letting anyone know that I'm trying to be noticed. This is tricky. Maybe its laughing with a friend as I walk through the door or maybe I'll act like I'm tripping as I walk in and then laugh at myself as I turn around and try to figure what hung me up. I've actually done this. Anything to set the tone and make sure as many women as possible notice me.
I rarely buy a woman a drink and I'll never send her one from across the bar. This is for pussies that hope the girl will come to them. My feeling is, if you want something, go after it. Don't wait for it to come to you, even by baiting it. Its also a lot less expensive in the long run. Once you've been talking to her for a while, sure, buy her a cocktail or share a shot, why not?
I don't date and I make this perfectly clear if I go out with a woman. If I happen to fall in love or want to pursue something further than casually going out, I'm very clear. Fortunately, this situation hasn't arisen too many times in my life. However, believe it or not, I have had several long term, monogomous relationships. At this point in my life, I just happen to be happy with my current situation of having different women around the country.
I've always considered myself very charismatic, outgoing and persuasive. I've always been the type of person that gets what he wants. Friends have often asked me how I'm so successful with women. I've never been able to put my finger on the secret to my success. If I were able to do this, I would have written a book by now and made millions. One thing I can tell you is that if you are able to lower your standards slightly, it opens you up to a much larger pool of women. I'll be the first to admit that I have slept with some women that I would never let anyone I know see me with.
Nevertheless, I'll try to divulge the secret to my success. There are several important things to consider, that I've found, when talking to women. Most importantly is to smile and nod. When you're smiling, it lets them think you're interested. Eye contact is also very important. I always try to find a topic of common ground. If they're interested in my job or flying, I'll talk about that, but never tell them anything without them asking first. It's good to be a little arrogant without them knowing it. If I sense, which I'm very good and quick at, that they're losing interest, I will either move onto another topic or move on to the next girl. My quickness to move to the next target is totally dependant on my level of interest or the radar going off to the lack of theirs. I always try to be noticed when I walk into a room without letting anyone know that I'm trying to be noticed. This is tricky. Maybe its laughing with a friend as I walk through the door or maybe I'll act like I'm tripping as I walk in and then laugh at myself as I turn around and try to figure what hung me up. I've actually done this. Anything to set the tone and make sure as many women as possible notice me.
I rarely buy a woman a drink and I'll never send her one from across the bar. This is for pussies that hope the girl will come to them. My feeling is, if you want something, go after it. Don't wait for it to come to you, even by baiting it. Its also a lot less expensive in the long run. Once you've been talking to her for a while, sure, buy her a cocktail or share a shot, why not?
I don't date and I make this perfectly clear if I go out with a woman. If I happen to fall in love or want to pursue something further than casually going out, I'm very clear. Fortunately, this situation hasn't arisen too many times in my life. However, believe it or not, I have had several long term, monogomous relationships. At this point in my life, I just happen to be happy with my current situation of having different women around the country.
Detroit Trip
I'd been sitting in the hotel for 4 days with no going home in sight. The shittiest part is that I'm in the extreme suburbs of a large, fun city just out of my reach. I could go into the city and run the risk of getting called by dispatch for a "hurry up" flight, but figured its just not worth it. Besides, the women in the suburbs are easier. Who knows when I'll go home?
Last night I got called early for an easy flight over to Detroit and then to Northern Michigan. We would be taking a procurement team to harvest a set of lungs for some poor bastard who was waiting for them back in Detroit. When we landed the team was already waiting. I hate it when this happens. We needed fuel, so they'd have to wait a little longer. The nurse on the team was named "Dana" and she was a tall brunette with naturally curly hair, blue eyes and very pretty lips. Eventhough I couldn't get a good feel for her figure through her unflattering scrubs, I immediately wanted to fuck her. After the fuelers left, I allowed the team to board after loading their equipment for them. I sat next to Dana in the back and made small talk and offered them drinks while I waited for my co-pilot to return from paying the fuel bill. To her doctor and coordinator, both men, I'm sure it appeared as blatant flirting. Not surprising, she was receptive, even in this professional environment. Believe it or not, these types of passengers are usually quite relaxed, comical and sometimes as dirty minded as myself.
We arrived in N. Michigan in the early evening and I handed "Dana" my card and asked her to call me on their way back so I could "have everything ready to go on my end." Another obvious flirtatious jester, but I didn't give a shit. She promised she would. My co-pilot and I spent the next 3.5 hours bullshitting and watching reality TV shows in the FBO (Fixed Base Operation). I got the call from "Dana" who was a little more serious this time and prepared the aircraft. They showed up shortly there after, lights and sirens blaring and we were quickly airborne. The quick hop back to Detroit was uneventful.
As she exited the plane, she handed me the card I had given her earlier in the night and gave me a wink and a smile as she said "here's your card back." I put it in my pocket without looking at it, knowing she had written her number on it with some cute little note and soon forgot about it. I unloaded the teams equipment and they were quickly off.
We arrived back around 0030. Just in time to make it to last call and maybe pick up a cute little bed warmer for the night. The closest bar to the hotel was a place called Paddy's. When I arrived there were several cop cars in the parking lot apparently breaking up a fight that had occured earlier. I walked in and the place was full of black people. Not respectable black people but thugish, low-pant wearing blacks. I'm not really racist, but not a real comfortable situation. The
vibe of the fight still hung thick in the air. You could smell the aggression. Nevertheless, I had a seat at the bar and ordered a Beer and a shot of jack. No, not a small beer, one of those big ones, I didn't have much time here. The only woman in the bar worthy of my time was the bartender. She was about 23, 5'4", blue eyes and unkept dirty blonde hair. She had one very interesting feature and that was her nose. It looked like a ski slope. I remembered seeing something like it in a Dr. Seuss book one time. Its not that it was bad or ugly, in fact it was kind of cute. Her name was Kimberly, not "Kim." She definitely didn't belong in this place. Funny thing about female bartenders. You always hear men say "bartenders are tough to pick up, they get hit on a hundred times a day." Well, this is partly true. To a true player, this is a great challenge. She leaned over, put her elbows on the bar and her chin in her hands and said "You don't look like you're from around here." Perfect! Now she's interested. I said "I'm not, I'm here on work" and acted as disinterested as possible. She was persistent, "What do you do" she asked. Even better, right where I want here. "I'm a pilot," I said. "Oh yeah? What airline?" "I fly for an air ambulance," I said. She immediately perked up, ignoring 2 black men who were trying to get a beer in before last call. I slowly started expressing interest. She told the black men she'd be right with them and turned back to me and said she'd be right back. Upon her return I told her I'd slept all day and wasn't tired and asked if she'd like to go get something to eat. The bouncer, obviously disgusted by the straggling patrons, started yelling at people to get out. I ignored him. She said she had some side work to do but would meet me after she got done. I told her I was going to go to the hotel to change and that I'd meet her at Denny's in an hour. She agreed. I left without getting her number.
I ordered a cup of coffee and waited about 15 minutes. I had not slept all day and I was tired. I didn't have all night. I paid my tab and was getting up to leave when she came walking briskly in. She apologized for being late and sat down on the same side of the booth as me. She grabbed my hand and pulled it onto her leg under the table as she looked over the menu. It was firm and her black pants were smooth against her leg. I instantly began getting an erection. I started rubbing my hand closer to her crotch and as I did she sucked in through her teeth, making a sound we're all familiar with. "Not now," she said. Those 2 words told me I was getting laid tonight.
We kissed the whole elevator ride up to the 9th floor of my hotel. I'm starting to wonder what the front desk staff thinks of me. This is the 4th woman in 5 days that I've walked in with. I kind of like thinking about it. I pressed her against my door as an older gentleman with an ice bucket walked by. Strangely, as passionate as it was getting, I wondered what an old guy was doing getting ice at 4 in the morning. Oh well. She asked me where the key was and I told her it was in my back pocket and she grabbed it and opened the door. She led me in by my hand and leaned against the door with her back as it was closing. She put her chin down and gave me this hot little, "I'm yours" look. I picked her up, she wrapped her legs around me and we kissed until I threw her on the bed and got on top of her. She reached down and unbuttoned my jeans and immediately gave me a fairly aggressive hand job. I pulled her stretch pants down in one pull and she wasn't wearing any underwear. I began fingering her and she got extremely wet. I began kissing her neck and slowly moved down, pulling off her shirt and bra as I did. I cupped her tits in my hand and began licking her soft, pink nipples. She had a great body and she was completely shaved. I moved down and began going down on her. I stayed there for quite a while and continued working her clit with my tongue until she arched her back and grinded her pelvis against my mouth as she came very hard. She pulled me up to her and grabbed my dick and started rubbing it again. I grabbed a condom and we had pretty damn good sex for the next 45 minutes. She deemed me good enough for a repeat and we did it twice more before she left this morning around 11.
I got up after she left and remembered the card. I pulled it out of my slacks which I had unceremoniously thrown over the chair in the hotel room the night before. Sure enough, "Dana" had written her number on the back with "Give me a call next time you are in town... Or whenever you want." I sent her a text message telling her I thought she was hot and would love to see her again. I'll file her away for the next time I'm in Detroit.
Last night I got called early for an easy flight over to Detroit and then to Northern Michigan. We would be taking a procurement team to harvest a set of lungs for some poor bastard who was waiting for them back in Detroit. When we landed the team was already waiting. I hate it when this happens. We needed fuel, so they'd have to wait a little longer. The nurse on the team was named "Dana" and she was a tall brunette with naturally curly hair, blue eyes and very pretty lips. Eventhough I couldn't get a good feel for her figure through her unflattering scrubs, I immediately wanted to fuck her. After the fuelers left, I allowed the team to board after loading their equipment for them. I sat next to Dana in the back and made small talk and offered them drinks while I waited for my co-pilot to return from paying the fuel bill. To her doctor and coordinator, both men, I'm sure it appeared as blatant flirting. Not surprising, she was receptive, even in this professional environment. Believe it or not, these types of passengers are usually quite relaxed, comical and sometimes as dirty minded as myself.
We arrived in N. Michigan in the early evening and I handed "Dana" my card and asked her to call me on their way back so I could "have everything ready to go on my end." Another obvious flirtatious jester, but I didn't give a shit. She promised she would. My co-pilot and I spent the next 3.5 hours bullshitting and watching reality TV shows in the FBO (Fixed Base Operation). I got the call from "Dana" who was a little more serious this time and prepared the aircraft. They showed up shortly there after, lights and sirens blaring and we were quickly airborne. The quick hop back to Detroit was uneventful.
As she exited the plane, she handed me the card I had given her earlier in the night and gave me a wink and a smile as she said "here's your card back." I put it in my pocket without looking at it, knowing she had written her number on it with some cute little note and soon forgot about it. I unloaded the teams equipment and they were quickly off.
We arrived back around 0030. Just in time to make it to last call and maybe pick up a cute little bed warmer for the night. The closest bar to the hotel was a place called Paddy's. When I arrived there were several cop cars in the parking lot apparently breaking up a fight that had occured earlier. I walked in and the place was full of black people. Not respectable black people but thugish, low-pant wearing blacks. I'm not really racist, but not a real comfortable situation. The
vibe of the fight still hung thick in the air. You could smell the aggression. Nevertheless, I had a seat at the bar and ordered a Beer and a shot of jack. No, not a small beer, one of those big ones, I didn't have much time here. The only woman in the bar worthy of my time was the bartender. She was about 23, 5'4", blue eyes and unkept dirty blonde hair. She had one very interesting feature and that was her nose. It looked like a ski slope. I remembered seeing something like it in a Dr. Seuss book one time. Its not that it was bad or ugly, in fact it was kind of cute. Her name was Kimberly, not "Kim." She definitely didn't belong in this place. Funny thing about female bartenders. You always hear men say "bartenders are tough to pick up, they get hit on a hundred times a day." Well, this is partly true. To a true player, this is a great challenge. She leaned over, put her elbows on the bar and her chin in her hands and said "You don't look like you're from around here." Perfect! Now she's interested. I said "I'm not, I'm here on work" and acted as disinterested as possible. She was persistent, "What do you do" she asked. Even better, right where I want here. "I'm a pilot," I said. "Oh yeah? What airline?" "I fly for an air ambulance," I said. She immediately perked up, ignoring 2 black men who were trying to get a beer in before last call. I slowly started expressing interest. She told the black men she'd be right with them and turned back to me and said she'd be right back. Upon her return I told her I'd slept all day and wasn't tired and asked if she'd like to go get something to eat. The bouncer, obviously disgusted by the straggling patrons, started yelling at people to get out. I ignored him. She said she had some side work to do but would meet me after she got done. I told her I was going to go to the hotel to change and that I'd meet her at Denny's in an hour. She agreed. I left without getting her number.
I ordered a cup of coffee and waited about 15 minutes. I had not slept all day and I was tired. I didn't have all night. I paid my tab and was getting up to leave when she came walking briskly in. She apologized for being late and sat down on the same side of the booth as me. She grabbed my hand and pulled it onto her leg under the table as she looked over the menu. It was firm and her black pants were smooth against her leg. I instantly began getting an erection. I started rubbing my hand closer to her crotch and as I did she sucked in through her teeth, making a sound we're all familiar with. "Not now," she said. Those 2 words told me I was getting laid tonight.
We kissed the whole elevator ride up to the 9th floor of my hotel. I'm starting to wonder what the front desk staff thinks of me. This is the 4th woman in 5 days that I've walked in with. I kind of like thinking about it. I pressed her against my door as an older gentleman with an ice bucket walked by. Strangely, as passionate as it was getting, I wondered what an old guy was doing getting ice at 4 in the morning. Oh well. She asked me where the key was and I told her it was in my back pocket and she grabbed it and opened the door. She led me in by my hand and leaned against the door with her back as it was closing. She put her chin down and gave me this hot little, "I'm yours" look. I picked her up, she wrapped her legs around me and we kissed until I threw her on the bed and got on top of her. She reached down and unbuttoned my jeans and immediately gave me a fairly aggressive hand job. I pulled her stretch pants down in one pull and she wasn't wearing any underwear. I began fingering her and she got extremely wet. I began kissing her neck and slowly moved down, pulling off her shirt and bra as I did. I cupped her tits in my hand and began licking her soft, pink nipples. She had a great body and she was completely shaved. I moved down and began going down on her. I stayed there for quite a while and continued working her clit with my tongue until she arched her back and grinded her pelvis against my mouth as she came very hard. She pulled me up to her and grabbed my dick and started rubbing it again. I grabbed a condom and we had pretty damn good sex for the next 45 minutes. She deemed me good enough for a repeat and we did it twice more before she left this morning around 11.
I got up after she left and remembered the card. I pulled it out of my slacks which I had unceremoniously thrown over the chair in the hotel room the night before. Sure enough, "Dana" had written her number on the back with "Give me a call next time you are in town... Or whenever you want." I sent her a text message telling her I thought she was hot and would love to see her again. I'll file her away for the next time I'm in Detroit.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
My last flight
I got the call at around noon from dispatch while still asleep from a rather long evening the previous night. "Emily" had come over around 11 to have sex. She's a hot little 22 year-old paramedic that once delivered a patient to my plane. My flight paramedic knew her and promised to put a good word in for me. 2 weeks later we were sleeping together after we got drunk one night and banged on her kitchen counter.
We were scheduled for a 1530 departure on Friday afternoon and were to deliver a kidney to Cleveland. I showed up at the airport around 1400 to coordinate fueling, file a flight plan, do a weight and balance calculation and preflight the aircraft, a Learjet 35. The plane is a little older, but I still lovc it. It's fast, climbs like an eagle on crack, and has XM radio to listen to. My co-pilot, "Ray" showed up shortly after and we were off the ground about 10 minutes early. We were soon settled in for our 3.6 hour flight. Soon, darkness set and we watched in amazement as a brilliant moon rose in the East. First bright orange and then fading to a beautiful bright white. Cruising across the U.S. at a ground speed of nearly 550 miles an hour, I reveled at how lucky I am to have this job. Being a single, 30 year-old, handsome, slightly arrogant male, I have definitely reaped the benefits of the job, and yes, that includes subtly dropping the fact that I'm a jet pilot in order to get laid, and trust me, it works to perfection.
We landed at Cleveland's Burke Lakefront airport at shortly after 10pm. After refueling the plane, chatting with the lineman and having a smoke, we reboarded the plane for a quick reposition flight to Rockford, Illinois. We were scheduled to fly out the next afternoon to Philadelphia to transport a patient to Sacramento. Well, as is common the case, this trip fell through. I checked into the hotel at shortly after 11 and needless to say, headed straight to the bar. I found a place within comfortable drunk driving distance, about 3 blocks for me, called Cousins Sports Bar. I was quite impressed with the quality of women in this place. In fighter pilot parlance, it was a "target rich environment." There was a great DJ and the place was packed. I was riding solo this evening since my co-pilot, being married, retired early. I soon met a women named Tiffany. A bank teller from a nearby town. She wasn't the hottest girl in the place, but I rarely go for those. Too much maintenance and I'm always on a truncated time schedule. I usually have just several hours to seal the deal before I'm on to the next town, city, country. Tiffany was with her gay, male friend and was driving and therefore unable to "go get something to eat with me." We exchanged numbers and I promised her I'd call the next time I was in town. The bar was closing, eliminating any last ditch efforts to pick up a straggler. This night, I would strike out.
The next day I awoke late, as usual, to the phone ringing. It was dispatch saying the flight had been cancelled. Rockford would give me another chance! I showered and walked across the street to have lunch and watch Texas beat the shit out of Colorado. Go Horns!
I sent Tiffany a text message sometime during the second half that went unreturned. While at the bar I met a guy named Tim. A former Army officer a couple of years older than myself, Tim spoke with a slight lisp that increasingly annoyed me. He was on the same eternal pussy mission as myself, but somehow he just went about it all wrong.
After the football games, Tim and I decided to go back to Cousins for another try. We showed up around 11 and it was just as busy as the previous night. He soon started to talk to a few women while I sat back and waited for him to fuck up and move in for the kill. It didn't take long. Her name was Corrine. She was a very pretty blonde of about 5'2" with a great ass and perfect tits. We had been eye-fucking each other the whole time Tim had been talking to her. We shared the typical conversation and were having sex 3 hours later. The thing about women on the road is that you can never get a good feel for what they're like in bed without actually sleeping with them. You simply don't have enough time to feel them out before you're in bed with them. It's just the nature of the game. Fortunately, Corrine was a bottle rocket. She told me as I was going down on her that if I could make her come that she would let me do whatever I wanted. I slowed my motion and after a few minutes she came very hard. Suffice to say, she stayed true to her word.
Corrine left the hotel around 8 in the morning after some suttle persuasion on my part for her to leave. Sometimes, I've found, its as hard getting them to leave as it is to get them to stay. Someone much wiser than myself once said, "you don't pay a prostitute to fuck you, you pay her to leave." I got up a couple hours later and went back to the bar to watch my Cowboys beat the Bengals. Another call from dispatch revealed we would be stuck in Rockford until at least Monday. For those of you that have never been to Rockford, the best thing to do when you get there is to get the fuck out. This town sucks. I was still feeling the shots from Saturday night so instead of spending a lot of energy on a new endeavor, I called Corrine. She showed up 45 minutes later.
We were scheduled for a 1530 departure on Friday afternoon and were to deliver a kidney to Cleveland. I showed up at the airport around 1400 to coordinate fueling, file a flight plan, do a weight and balance calculation and preflight the aircraft, a Learjet 35. The plane is a little older, but I still lovc it. It's fast, climbs like an eagle on crack, and has XM radio to listen to. My co-pilot, "Ray" showed up shortly after and we were off the ground about 10 minutes early. We were soon settled in for our 3.6 hour flight. Soon, darkness set and we watched in amazement as a brilliant moon rose in the East. First bright orange and then fading to a beautiful bright white. Cruising across the U.S. at a ground speed of nearly 550 miles an hour, I reveled at how lucky I am to have this job. Being a single, 30 year-old, handsome, slightly arrogant male, I have definitely reaped the benefits of the job, and yes, that includes subtly dropping the fact that I'm a jet pilot in order to get laid, and trust me, it works to perfection.
We landed at Cleveland's Burke Lakefront airport at shortly after 10pm. After refueling the plane, chatting with the lineman and having a smoke, we reboarded the plane for a quick reposition flight to Rockford, Illinois. We were scheduled to fly out the next afternoon to Philadelphia to transport a patient to Sacramento. Well, as is common the case, this trip fell through. I checked into the hotel at shortly after 11 and needless to say, headed straight to the bar. I found a place within comfortable drunk driving distance, about 3 blocks for me, called Cousins Sports Bar. I was quite impressed with the quality of women in this place. In fighter pilot parlance, it was a "target rich environment." There was a great DJ and the place was packed. I was riding solo this evening since my co-pilot, being married, retired early. I soon met a women named Tiffany. A bank teller from a nearby town. She wasn't the hottest girl in the place, but I rarely go for those. Too much maintenance and I'm always on a truncated time schedule. I usually have just several hours to seal the deal before I'm on to the next town, city, country. Tiffany was with her gay, male friend and was driving and therefore unable to "go get something to eat with me." We exchanged numbers and I promised her I'd call the next time I was in town. The bar was closing, eliminating any last ditch efforts to pick up a straggler. This night, I would strike out.
The next day I awoke late, as usual, to the phone ringing. It was dispatch saying the flight had been cancelled. Rockford would give me another chance! I showered and walked across the street to have lunch and watch Texas beat the shit out of Colorado. Go Horns!
I sent Tiffany a text message sometime during the second half that went unreturned. While at the bar I met a guy named Tim. A former Army officer a couple of years older than myself, Tim spoke with a slight lisp that increasingly annoyed me. He was on the same eternal pussy mission as myself, but somehow he just went about it all wrong.
After the football games, Tim and I decided to go back to Cousins for another try. We showed up around 11 and it was just as busy as the previous night. He soon started to talk to a few women while I sat back and waited for him to fuck up and move in for the kill. It didn't take long. Her name was Corrine. She was a very pretty blonde of about 5'2" with a great ass and perfect tits. We had been eye-fucking each other the whole time Tim had been talking to her. We shared the typical conversation and were having sex 3 hours later. The thing about women on the road is that you can never get a good feel for what they're like in bed without actually sleeping with them. You simply don't have enough time to feel them out before you're in bed with them. It's just the nature of the game. Fortunately, Corrine was a bottle rocket. She told me as I was going down on her that if I could make her come that she would let me do whatever I wanted. I slowed my motion and after a few minutes she came very hard. Suffice to say, she stayed true to her word.
Corrine left the hotel around 8 in the morning after some suttle persuasion on my part for her to leave. Sometimes, I've found, its as hard getting them to leave as it is to get them to stay. Someone much wiser than myself once said, "you don't pay a prostitute to fuck you, you pay her to leave." I got up a couple hours later and went back to the bar to watch my Cowboys beat the Bengals. Another call from dispatch revealed we would be stuck in Rockford until at least Monday. For those of you that have never been to Rockford, the best thing to do when you get there is to get the fuck out. This town sucks. I was still feeling the shots from Saturday night so instead of spending a lot of energy on a new endeavor, I called Corrine. She showed up 45 minutes later.
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