They Call Me Cryinhead. Unloading airplanes...It’s What I Do

[Ernie Cryinghead]

It started out like any other morning, I reached to the edge of my mattress pad and cracked open a warm can of Pepsi. The warm bubbly goodness coated my teeth and stung against the dryness of my throat - too many Budweiser’s the night before. “Damn it Ernie. You know better”, I thought. “And what the hell is that burning sensation on my johnson?” An image of Trina and her beautiful flat bum came back to me. More glimpses of the night before drifted back into memory. Burlene standing on the chair and peeling her shirt off, the sound of AC/DC pumping through Sidney’s hi tech speaker system with the unfortunate blown out sub woofer, the Budweiser’s, the empty sherry bottles, and that desperate look that Trina had shot me across the table. It was all over from there, she knew she had caught a dose of the Ernmeister fever and nothing was going to stop her. “You have to use your willpower next time”, I thought to myself but I knew it was a lie, I didn’t even know what that word meant - I just remember Pops yelling it to me those mornings he caught me with the local bimbos on my mattress pad.

“Wake the hell up Ernie!”, I said aloud and then quickly looked to see if any of my cousins had heard. Phew! thankfully the five of them were all still sleeping peacefully on their foam pads. I knew I had a job to do today. There was a plane coming in with an important load of cargo and it was my job to unload. I stood up and looked around for my cell phone. It didn’t work up here but I like how it tells me the time and besides, I can just buy some minutes whenever I’m in the city and I got lots of bimbos stored in my contacts list....awesome. “Enough of that, focus Ernie focus!” I thought. I found the cell phone under a half eaten bag of Old Dutch ketchup potato chips...Trina’s favorite. I knew for certain now that last night was no dream. The display on my cell phone read 2:45 PM. 2:45 PM....shit! Those grumpy pilots were going to be pissed off, they were supposed to land at 2:00! I sauntered out of the house and started the short walk to the airport. I always loved the summer mornings here, not a sound to be heard except for the chirping of the birds, the hum of the diesel generator and the whooshing wings of the ravens as they overflew me with crinkly chip bags in their beaks.

“Is the loader workin?” the Captain shouted at me. I looked over to the corner of the apron toward the swamp and saw the loader tilted at a weird angle and looked to be buried to the top of the wheels. Willard, the airport manager must’ve been drinking again last night....damn, he definitely won’t be here to help. Hopefully he’s OK and not like the night he had a twenty minute straight fist fight with the loader after three consecutive bottles of sherry - a broken wrist, four busted fingers and hurt pride. “Is anyone else coming?” said the young co-pilot sarcastically. “Uhhh, they should be here pretty soon”, I said but knew it was a lie. These guys never learn I thought, coming here so early at two o’clock in the afternoon....so stupid. I chuckled out loud but noticed the quick turn of the Captain’s head and the burn of his gaze on me. I knew I had my work cut out for me as I peeled the shrink wrap off the first pallet. Unloading airplanes, it’s what I do...

the cryinhead

[nottellin]

good read

[Dash-Ate]

Bring back Henri!!!

Even a drunk ISTP could do better than this.

(but a not a bad first try for you)

[TeePeeCreeper]

[Dash-Ate]

Where's Wigwam Willy these days??

[Hoov]

Funny

[Rowdy]

That was great

way better than that doofus henri