Flying Friendly

I got a job as a pilot for American Airlines. It doesn’t pay well, $10.45 an hour, but I get to travel. Plus I like looking out the windshield and just seeing clouds.

There are so many dials, gauges, and flashing lights on the dashboard and they only serve to confuse me. Basically I learned and get by on what gives the plane gas, how to steer, and what I need to do to apply the breaks.

I like being called a captain. I even get to wear a captain’s hat with shiny wings on the front. I opened a bank account yesterday and wrote my name on the form as Captain Brooks Palmer. The bank employee who looked at my form raised an eyebrow. It’s good to have prestige.

On this morning’s flight to Orlando, I got on the mic and said to the passengers, “This is Captain Palmer. If you look out the window to the left, you’ll see a school of mallards flying south. They look kind of tired. I’m going to open the door and let them in for a ride.”

I left the cabin and opened the plane’s door. I had to hold on tight as to not get sucked out. I shouted and waved at the ducks. They looked over. I waved them in. The ducks rode with us to Orlando. When we arrived, the ducks thanked me. That made me feel good.

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