Friday, October 14, 2011

10/14/2011 No Salida Senor

It takes about four hours
to get from Houston to Cleveland.
The nicest people I ever met
working for Continental were from Cleveland.
The all seemed so happy.
And polite.
My buddy-bidder Theresa and I bid those flights a lot.
Dever to Cleveland, Houston to Cleveland,
if the scheduled showed Cleveland,
I wanted to go.
One of my favorites was the Los Angeles to Cleveland red-eye.
Nothing like going over area 51 to wake me right up.
We'd be done with the service by then so I'd take
my coffee break in the cockpit.
Captain Charming Charlie and F/O Tom Bell didn't mind.
There are small windows on the top of the cockpits
on the 737s which made watching for UFOs a snap.
My favorite thing was to take the leftover apples
to the Hilton Hotel and toss them off the balcony.
Those little hedge hogs would sit up like tiny dogs
begging for those juicy tiny red delicious apples.
We don't have hedge hogs in Seattle so I was pretty gaga
about seeing them at six o'clock in the morning.
It always made me laugh and smile and relaxed me.
I was needing relaxing one morning,
because at four AM a Mexican man got down all his luggage
from the overhead bin and came up to the front
jump seat where I had parked myself and said,
"Salida porfavor."
Well, I sure hadn't seen the fasten seat belt sign come on
so I got up and looked out the window.
We were at about 10,000 feet up!
I had to be firm with this man
and say, "No Salida Senior!"

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