How I Got My PPL.

[. ._]

Some people have asked me, “Hey, ISTP, how the hell did YOU get your pilot's licence?”

Well, it was all quite uneventful, really. It happened a fine summer's day in the year 2003.

The fog was lifting off of the runway in old Sault Ste. Marie, when the examiner said, “OK, ISTP, let's do the ground portion. I wanna see weather, weight and balance, the whole bit.”

I wasn't even nervous, because I always brief the way I fly, ice cold- no mistakes.

“All right sir, I looked on the Weather Channel last night. Jackie Meretzky (my favourite weather girl) said that it would be a mix of sun and cloud in Ontario, so that should be OK for us. We can fill up the plane full of gas, and fit both of us in no problem, because Sault College's Zlins are the pride of the Soviet Union. In fact, I know we could even put machine guns on this baby and it would STILL fly. Well that's what I heard, anyways. Suffice to say, sir, here's my medical, now let's light this candle!”

The examiner stood in awe of my pre-flight information. I guess he'd never heard such a thorough report.

As I whipped my Class I out of my wallet, I dropped the whole thing on the other side of the desk and out of my view. I said, “Make sure you take what's in there, before giving it back to me.” Then I remembered- my driver's licence was in there too, so I said, “No, I mean, just take half of it.”

So he kinda smiled, and gave my wallet back to me.

“Enough fooling around, sir. Let's get flying.”

“Yeah,” he replied with a wink, “We might as well make this look good.”

Finally, I thought, someone who knows a natural pilot when he sees one.

Out at the plane, he asked, “Did you do a walk around?”

“Of course!” I always do a couple of laps around the Station Mall every morning before my daily routine. It helps me get in touch with the ladies up here, well the senior citizens groups, anyways. For some reason, the girls in the stores always wait until I pass them before opening the doors. Must be a cultural thing.

I fired up the Zlin and taxied out as fast as I could. At the bottom of the hill, I hung a quick left, then applied full power, and keyed the mike, “Sault Radio, this is FCSB on Charlie taking off.”

I glanced at my instruments pointing to yellow, and the examiner's white face. He must have eaten too many McMuffins before flying. Amateur.

“ISTP, the tower is open now, and I think you should talk to ground!” the examiner nervously said.

Examiners- what the hell do they know? I was already in the air, why should I talk to ground?

That's one thing I can't get. Whether it's ground or tower, it's just the same guy anyways. Sometimes he goofs around and tries to talk with an accent, or sound like a girl, but he can't fool me. That guy should take his job more seriously, or just shut up.

So we took off, and I thought I'd impress everyone, “Sorry, sir, it's time to buzz the tower.”

I turned out left, just like the Flight Training Manual says. Figured I'd do a little circuit and impress him with my altitude holding ability. Buzzing the tower is really fun, I can see why Maverick always does it.

VROOOOM!! Just like in the movies. After that, the radio got really loud. The examiner was shouting something, the other radio frequencies were going nuts, so I took off my headset, and enjoyed the circuit. I even let the examiner fly for a bit. Once we were back on the ground, I put the headset back on, and asked him if he enjoyed the flight as I let him taxi up to the hangar.

I couldn't believe his joy! He pulled the out the red knob, and the engine quit, which is weird, because I've never figured out what that thing does. That's right, red means stop.

He ran from the plane screaming at the top of his lungs. His arms were flailing all over the place, and he dropped my marking sheet.

I thought I'd better see what was the matter.

I chased him all the way out to his car, and he was sitting there, madly beating up the steering wheel, swearing up a storm.

“Sir, I know not everyone is cut out to be a pilot. But maybe you just need to take a good walk, and relax a bit.”

“You got that right, you fucking idiot! I need to retire. This whole flying business is SHIT! I don't need to die with morons like you around. I might as well get the clap in a fucking Tijuana whorehouse, then drink tequila till I see pixies driving low-riders. Then, and only fucking THEN should I blow my fucking brains out!!!”

“Here, sir, just take what's in my wallet.” I looked for my local Mall Walking Club membership card, and darned if I didn't drop my wallet in his car window.

He fumbled with it on the floor for a bit, then gave it back to me.

“Did you find what you needed in there?” I inquired.

“Yeah, yeah thanks. Oh @#$!, that's it, I'm outta here!”

“But wait sir, I think you need to sign this or something.” I said, as I held out the marking sheet.

“Sure! I'll sign that! I don't care! I quit!”

He signed the paper, then roared off in a cloud of dust.

I looked at the paper, and noticed he hadn't even marked me. I guess if you're good, you don't need marks. But, being the perfectionist that I am, I just marked off all of the "five" circles, and wrote, “Well done!” on there somewhere.

Everyone asked me how I did, and I just said, “All right.” Which was the truth.

That sure was a great day, back in summer 2003, but, like Buddha or someone says, “With the good, comes the bad.”

I got home, and was about to pay my landlord his six months of rent- cash- just the way Guido likes it, but when I reached into my wallet, the eighteen hundred dollars I had earlier was gone! I had to call my parents to ask for more money, but, in the end, everything worked out OK. They sent me the money. Thanks Dad and Mom.

-istp

[AV8OR]

As always ISTP. You put a smile on my face. Isn't your CPL coming up? All the best with that. Then it's off to the twin to impress the instructors even more!

[bb lint]

ISTP....
Oh you spin a good yarn sonny. LMAO!!!!!!!!!

Why not tell the REAL story. You were nervous as a sheep at a bush pilot's convention, studied so hard you didn't sleep the night before, shit your pants and had to slip the school the 1800 bucks for reupholstering the Zlin. Then your parents bailed you out cuz they didn't really want you back home.
Fess up.

...........Great story though, if you end up as an out 'o' work pilot you can always find a career writing for Marvel Comix.

[mculshaw]

That was a great work of writing!
Kudos Buddy

[jimdandy]

ROFL! LMFAO! Good one. That was nice to read.
Wave

[LastSamurai]

NICE!!!



G

[Big_Oaf]

“ISTP, the tower is open now, and I think you should talk to ground!” the examiner nervously said.

Examiners- what the hell do they know? I was already in the air, why should I talk to ground?

I love it, if only it were always like that

[Driving Rain]

ISTP,
LMFAO.

Back in 87 was doing some flight training YAM myself. Two off us were getting trained and after the first guy had his kick at the cat it was my turn. He'd back tracked to the button and set the brake. I slid from the jump set into the left one which should be an Olympic sport in a 215. not much wiggle room especially for a fat bastard like me. After donning the David Clarks and cinching the belts tight the destructor a French guy from Quebec with limited Englash said "Let's Go." I think he was pissed because two Englash guys had just had their asses shoved in his face to switch seats.
I hammered the throttles forward like I seen the last guy do and took off. On the down wind the tower called me and asked if I would like permission to take off.
Love the Sault great town, good people.

[MWadham]

Great storie

Nadine Blayney is better then Jackie Meretzky though