Let’s do this” I say. “Sign here.” He holds up a contract. “What’s this?” “A covenant for our flight time releasing me from all liability.”
“You want me to sign a pre-flight pre-nup?” “Don’t get excited. It’s standard operating procedure. This outing is strictly professional.”
A teen when I first rode a monster rollercoaster, I expected the heart-stopping plummets but not gut wrenching rolls and upside-down twists.
When finally the car pulled to a stop, I breathed a sigh of relief. The terror was over! Then we started up for a second run…backwards!
I don’t know what was worse: Ignorance of what was coming on that first pass, or the anticipation as I experienced the second time through.
After that experience, how bad could an air taxi ride be? Time to find out. I sign the pre-nup and we board the plane. David dons earphones.
The plane engines start up, props spin and the noise is spectacular. “Do I need earphones too?” I ask. “What?” “DO I NEED EARPHONES TOO?”
David says “Cjgafad adf zoedfa adfwe.” “WHAT?” “I CAN’T HEAR YOU. I’VE GOT HEADPHONES ON.” As we taxi toward the runway the noise increases.
I shout “IS IT GOING TO BE THIS LOUD THE WHOLE FLIGHT?” David signals “I can’t hear you.” I hold up my cell phone so he can see my tweet.
He shouts “WHEN YOU USE CAPS LIKE THAT IT LOOKS LIKE YOU’RE SHOUTING.” I shout “I AM SHOUTING!” He shouts “WELL, YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHOUT!”
At least I think that’s what he says. I still can’t hear him over the engine roar so I try ASL signing “I THINK I DO!” and he slaps my face.
At least I think that’s what I signed. The noise can’t get any louder. He shouts “FASTEN YOUR SEATBELT. IT’S GOING TO BE A BUMPY FLIGHT.”
At least I think that’s what he shouts. Bumpy flight? What’s that all about? As the plane lifts off the noise rises to the point of pain.
We leave Luis Muñoz Marín International Airport and head out over the ocean. I look around the tiny cabin, wondering where the bathroom is.
David holds up a sign. “Please Remain Seated With Your Seatbelt Fastened Until We Reach Our Cruising Altitude” “OK. WE MADE IT.” he shouts.
We’re flying 100 feet over the ocean. “WE MADE THE ISLAND ALREADY?” “NO CRUISING ALTITUDE. HOLD ON!” We veer right to avoid a cruise ship.
“HOLD THIS” he says. I take hold of a rope end, the plane dips down to the water surface and David throws a netbag of cans out the window.
The bag hits the water, dragging along behind the plane. The other end of my rope is attached to the bag. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I scream.
“I’M CHILLING OUR DRINKS” he replies. “ARE YOU CRAZY? RAISE THE PLANE!” He holds up a sign reading “There is Only One Pilot On This Flight.”
Clearly he has experienced similar objections before. I take out my cell phone, quickly type in a message and press SEND. His phone chimes.
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)