Learning to Fly

I haven't yet moved to pharmaceuticals to get me into the air, but that may all change after my last flight.

My flight was scheduled to take off around 2:30. Ten minutes out, with no sign of a plane, it was pretty clear that we wouldn't be taking off on time. Thankfully, I found Sandy of Momisodes, at the gate too, so we kept each other company while we waited and waited.

Finally, a plane! And, I noticed with relief that there was a new, fresh flight crew ready to board the plane to take us to Chicago.

We boarded quickly, got seated and heard the doors close. And then, this:

"We're sorry but there is a problem with the windshield heater. . .blah blah blah".

I soon found myself back inside the airport. Not good.

"We're looking for a replacement part" turned into "We're looking for a replacement plane" turned into "We've found a part! Now we need to test it."

Oh, joy.

Finally, we got back on and the (very chatty) pilot decided to explain exactly what had happened and why it took so long to fix (I'd rather believe that the magical fairies who sprinkle flying dust onto the plane were just running late).

And, then he started to freak me out:

"I have found a new route that will shave off some time from this flight, plus I'm going to up the speed so that you guys won't miss your connections."

(my brain started to chant: "Titanic, Titanic, Titanic")

And then the clincher:

"And, I've gotten the ok to practice my throttle skills by landing this plane on a direct route, instead of circling the city first".

That's when I looked at the stranger next to me and sputtered, "the word PRACTICE should never, ever come out of the pilot's mouth while he is flying the eff-ing plane!".

So, next time. . .Valium or Ambien?