No, they didn’t go into a bar. They are just characters from my whirlwind trip this week.
Oh, first things first: If you’re planning to rent a car, be sure your driver’s license hasn’t expired.
Ahem.
So, after my interview today, I stopped at a convenience store for a soft drink and a map. I wanted to see some of the town so I’d know it a little better if I have to make a decision to relocate in the near future (God-willing!). While filling my drink cup, I see a woman come in and immediately peg her for a hooker. Anyone that knows anything about hookers knows they usually aren’t dressed up like you see in Hollywood; they’re usually indo88 grubby, don’t wear bras, and never carry purses. They also give you that bird-dog look when you drive by, where they kinda duck their head and look into your window and try to make eye contact with you.
So anyway, I pegged her as a hooker. Don’t ask me how I know all that stuff. Although, in this case, she still had a little meat on her bones so if she was a crack-whore she must not have been on the rock for very long.
Honestly, I suspected it but wasn’t sure until she started following me around the store. Maybe because I looked so out of place in a suit and tie, like I was going to be easy money.
—-
So, I take my map and soft drink to the counter, and Isaac effin’ Hayes in behind the counter! Seriously, this guy had the shaved head and dark sunglasses, and was really trying to push the look. But, the kicker is, the music coming over the store’s speaker was… you guessed it… the theme song from Shaft!!
He’s a baaaaaaaad mutha-
—-
So, anyway, I leave the store and go to my car and unfold the map, and I notice a movement in my peripheral vision.
The hooker.
At my passenger window.
They say these are the moments that define character: What would you do if you could do something that was wrong, but you know nobody would ever find out about it?
I just shook my head and gave her that, “gee, I’m sorry” smile. She gave me that “You fat fuck, you should be happy I was willing to LET you pay me to fuck you” grimace.
I’m not saying I feel good about myself; I just haven’t met a crack-whore worth losing my kids over.
—-
So, I’m at the airport. This is a small regional airport, maybe 20 flights total out of there each day. I’ve got a puddle-jumper direct to Tampa.
We’re supposed to begin boarding when the gate agent’s walkie-talkie crackles and we all hear, “The first-officer is MIA.”
I say, “Quick, somebody check the bar!”
Yeah, I’m quick like that.
A few minutes later, the first officer comes strolling through the gate area carrying two Starbucks. He just looks at us and says, “The Captain made me.”
So, we board the little Beech and the lady behind me says in a panicked voice, “Where’s the bathroom?”
I just laugh. The gate agent made two announcements about the plane being too small for a bathroom.
I’ve flown puddle-jumpers too many times. I hate them. The novelty wore off a long time ago after too many wild rides. But, for some, this is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to them and I hear the same jokes I’ve heard a hundred times before:
“Hey, I asked for an aisle seat.” They are all aisle seats.
“Hey, I asked for a window seat.” Grrr…
“Hey, when does the beverage service start?” About an hour ago, from the looks of your eyes.
So, anyway, we all get seated, then the captain gets on the intercom.
“Thank you for flying with us tonight. I’m Captain Eddie (___). I could tell you that we’re going to try to give you a smooth ride to Tampa, but that would be a lie.”
Oh, Captain Eddie, please lay off the caffeine.
