"The Glamour of Aviation" -- A One Act Play

[CE402]

By........The Flightinfo Players

Scene: The pilot briefing room of an unnamed turboprop regional airline. The time is 0445. The stench of stale coffee and disinfectant hangs in the air like an invisible fog. Captain Smith walks in to find First Officer Jones sleeping peacefully -- his head flat on the crooked wooden desk next to the 1983 model dot-matrix printer. A growing puddle of drool, oddly shaped like Lake Erie, glistens on the wrinkled manifest under his ear. Captain Smith chases two Advil with water cupped in the palm of his hand. The water tastes like the plastic water cooler that dispensed it. The swallowing reflex triggers a gastric event: The gaseous by-products of a 7-11 breakfast burrito rise like the morning sun, past his esophagous, and fill his cheeks. A long, slow exhale tinges the room with a burrito-esque aroma.

Captain Smith: "Dang....that was a face fart if there ever was one. Come on, dude....get up."

FO Jones: "Hmmmphmph?" (Wipes chin with tie)

Captain Smith: "Your leg, sparky....There's a good chance I might throw chow soon"

Continued...... (any other budding playwrites...feel free)

 

[Vladimir Lenin]

Captain Smith: "Your leg, sparky....There's a good chance I might throw chow soon"

No sooner than he said that, Captain Smith vomited on FO Jones, covering him in orange hued goo, with little pieces of green peppers poking through like emeralds. The goo glistened under the fluorescent lighting, reflecting the Coke machine in the corner

 

[NewBlue]

Slight edit. "The glamour of Aviation." A stunning play in one unnatural act!

 

[CE402]

FO Jones staggered to the janitor's closet where he showered himself under the faucet, leaning awkwardly to avoid the "Caution wet floor" yellow mop bucket sitting in the sink. The industrial strength soap removed the glistening goo from his hair and neck, but left his skin feeling like parmesaen cheese, post-grater. He made his way to the still-dark parking lot where he reunited with his Metallic Green Pea 1978 Ford Granada. He accessed it through the passenger door, which had been the only access to the front seat of the car since 1981 --several proud owners ago. Under the front seat, he found it -- the "backup" -- the "do not use unless vomit or condiments require" instant-use emerency pilot shirt with epaulets pre-installed. The one with the pit stains. He would need a new t-shirt too, as there was a small degree of fabric penetration. The only one available was an off-white "Friends don't let friends drink blended whiskey" all cotton tee. The grayish hue to the "Backup" would obscure the lettering, he thought.

Meanwhile...in the briefing room:

Captain Smith: "Strangely, I feel hungry again..."

 

[johnny taliban]

Captain Smith was an old timer who had long since lost that hopeful glee that young Jones carried with him. The only day dreaming Smith did was of what could have been, not what could be. Hopefully,this little airline would be his last stop. Two furloughs and three wives ago "Smitty" as his comtempories called him,was alot like F/O Jones. Young, eager, and clueless about the career he had chosen.

 

[GravityHater]

good to see those Into to Literature 101 courses have not gone to waste.
Thx for the laff.

 

[Cardinal]

FO Jones (Walks in, head down, buttoning shirt) "Sorry about this shirt, it kinda grod-
CA Smith (Interrupting) "Who the fkcu cares? I'm gonna scrounge some pepto, and I'll meet you out there. Fuel truck's on it's way, tell 'em 50 a side."

 

[bobbysamd]

continued . . . .

CA Smith: "By the way, how did you get hired here?"

FO Jones: "Well, I had planned to go to college and had been accepted to Harvard, but then I read in some pilot magazine that a friend showed me there was a pilot shortage. That magazine could have been Career Pilot or Airline Pilot Careers Magazine, run by some dude by the name of Darby. Then, I saw an ad in the mag that said I could come work here in nine months, just by going to its school and paying $54,997. And, the best thing was that I did not have to go to college because it was more important to get something called 'TJPIC' time early to be ready for the upcoming 2007 hiring boom. I told mom and dad I wanted to be a pilot, to forget about Harvard, and that I wanted to go to this school. So, they paid for my training and I landed here. But I only plan to stay here long enough until the majors hire me to fly A380s. That should be only a few months."

Smith: "How many hours did you say you have?"

Jones: "About 500, with 300 being SIC."

Smith: (who took out loans to go to college and learn how to fly, is still paying on his loans, instructed for five years, signing off one hundred fifty Private students in the process, and flew Lances and BE-99s at Ameriflight single-pilot before being hired with 2000 hours, throws up, despite taking the Pepto)

 

[BD King]

Doggone. I may have to publish this. Now, someone has to introduce the FA to the plot.

www.bdkingpress.com

 

[bobbysamd]

continued . . .

Doggone. I may have to publish this. Now, someone has to introduce the FA to the plot.

FA Hilton (female, who has flown for the company for fifteen years, starting in Shorts and whose seniority holds this morning's equipment, a CRJ): "Good morning."

Jones: "Hiya. What are you doing after your shift?"

Smith: (throws up)

Hilton: (throws up)

 

[Clutch_Cargo]

Boyz...

That's one rippin' good yarn!! Keep it up. You could publish it and get outta this crazy biz. It should be required reading for every Aviation 101 class out there... it could single-handedly put an end to the supply of new aviation recruits!

cc

 

[coolyokeluke]

After the gastric disaster cleanup, FO Jones hustles out into the morning gloom, out the revolving door of the FBO covered in knife scratched graffitti. "For a good time call Gulfstream Academy 1800..."
The morning is damp, foggy and cold. The fog droplets are visible in the yellowish glare of the flourescent flood lights dimly illuminating the ramp. FO Jones digs through the bottom of his flight bag, his hand deflty weaving through the Jepp updates from the past two months and his headset to clutch the cool metallic cylinder of his mag light. Thumbing the rubber button, the light flashes on brightly and immediatley begins to dim. "These D cells are eating a dissproportionate amount of my income" Smith thinks. A nervous pang of worry builds in his stomach as he thinks about the loan payment due on Friday.
"I feel the need, the need for speed!" he recites his favorite TopGun quote as he approaches the CRJ for a preflight.

 

[urflyingme?!]

RIiiiiiiiiing.

Jones' ancient Nokia comes to life. "Jones this is crew scheduling. Your flight has been canceled. We don't have a hotel for you right now but, uh, well we'll see what happens."

"When's the next flight supposed to be then?" Jones mutters as he tosses his mag into his Scott Leather flight that grandad gave him, now covered with a large bumper sticker reading "Pilots do it doggy style." He wonders what he was going to get for it when his ebay auction ends.

"Umm, we'll see, uh (mumbles) 6 AM tommorrow.... CLICK"

 

[johnny taliban]

Smith ,ever the consummate professional pulls Jones aside and lectures him concerning fraternization with company flight attendants: "Jones, didn't you know Johnson was gay? Not that there is anything wrong with that."

 

[coolyokeluke]

Jones collapses in a hard plastic chair and takes a sip of the coffee that had been on the burner well past TBO. The captain's attempt at CRM/leadership had left him deflated. Stuck in po-dunk, no money, still dark and cold out, can't hang out with the fun flight attendent, no hotel, student loans due, and hanging with Capt Smith who was almost as bitter as the coffee. His enthusiasm was ebbing like the sea before a tidal wave. What was a guy to do? The Chinese word for chaos was the same as opportunity, wasn't it? Living well is the best revenge? Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? CARPE DIEM!

 

[urflyingme?!]

That's when jonesy had an idea, not just a idea, but a vision.
r."

 

[johnny taliban]

Like a white knight charging to the rescue, this idea would snatch victory from the jaws of defeat. Already in debt up to his ears Jones knew there was only one way out of this hell that some called "living the dream". He would do what so many before him had done. Lower the bar even further, go in debt even more, sell his soul one more time...thats right, he would BUY A 737 TYPE RATING!!!

 

[Cardinal]

FO Jones quickly runs to the ops computer, and dials up http://ads.flightinfo.com/banman.as...rID=7&BannerID=12&SiteID=0&RandomNumber=95318
"Only $6395! Well thats only a third of what I paid to Gulfstream to fly that teeny little Beech. What a bargain!" (Whips out credit card). . .(CA Smith walks in, and FO Jones assumes a stricken look, like his mom caught him looking at porn)

 

[bobbysamd]

continued . . . .

Jones collapses in a hard plastic chair and takes a sip of the coffee that had been on the burner well past TBO. The captain's attempt at CRM/leadership had left him deflated. Stuck in po-dunk, no money, still dark and cold out, can't hang out with the fun flight attendent, no hotel, student loans due, and hanging with Capt Smith who was almost as bitter as the coffee. His enthusiasm was ebbing like the sea before a tidal wave. What was a guy to do?

Jones: (thinking) "This is what I get for paying-for-training? I know what I'll do! I'll write a book about regionals airlines! I'll call it, 'Squawk 7500'! (intentional) Random House will publish it and I'll make milliions! So much for this $12,000 FO first-year pay!!!"

In the meantime, another junior crewmember enters . . . . .

TABExpress F/O: "Hey, Buddy!"

 

[Pilot124]

Looks at the crew, drops his pants and drags his nutz across broken glass on the floor. This remarkable action by the junior reminds CO Smith that he forgot to pick up his wifes birth control. Then when out of nowhere.................FO Jones..........

 

[Nolife]

On and ON

Both look at the F/O dragging his jewels across the broken glass and they both cringe.

Smith says," Dude, it can't be that bad... I mean come on."

"Yeah... relax, so you got screwed. It's life and it's always happening. Look at what happened to me at Gulf-Stream." Said Jones.



The ball bleeding F/O looked up at them in pain and said,' Dang... that really hurt... maybe I should have just called in sick."



"Yeah dude," said Smith, " or you could have gone to med school."

 

[CE402]

Time to get the story back on track....

Jones dusted off the "backup" and wearily hoisted his leather flight case from the floor as he made his way toward the ramp. The grim flourescent lights from the outside of the terminal barely highlighted little rainbows of Jet-A swirling around in ubiquitous puddles on the ramp. Jones made no attempt to dodge said puddles, letting his $8.99 Payless specials navigate the cruel waters -- the holes therein letting the colorful aqueous mixture fill the bilges of his footwear. He wearily approached the shiny new CRJ-700 that adorned the dreary ramp. Unfortunately, this erstwhile showroom demo was just an obstacle en route to his ultimate destination -- the off-white Jetstream 31 with the brown trim. Ah yes -- the little British submarine chaser with grand delusions of airline stardom that would be his enclave for the rest of this fine day. Strangely, the vision of his 1978 Ford Granada materializes in his head simultaneously with the morning's first glimpse of his trusty steed.....
......Meanwhile, Captain Smith fishes through his flight case for an all important receipt. He'd forgotten to check the receipt for accuracy. The company had long since ceased the direct billing of hotels and motels, preferring instead to have crews charge accomodations and meals on credit cards -- reimbursing them only after verifying receipts. Smith had gotten the tip from another captain that this particular establishment made no distinction on their receipts between any "General services" received at the motel. That meant that the adult movies that lulled him into a slumber last evening would be lumped under the same heading as the chicken wings, cheese fries, and Bud Lights that he and Jonesy shared earlier in the evening. There were some fringe benefits to his company's hyper-frugality, he thought.

"It's all about looking for the loopholes", said Smith to no one in particular after finding and verifying, the receipt.

 

[CE402]

.....any Jetstream pilots care to lend their literary expertise to this yarn?

 

[ackairpilot]

cont

They were now running behind scheduel due to the untimely uniform change. Captain Smith grumbled to himself as he passed the RJ and saw the outline of the J-31 in the distance. He was already on probation for violating Standard Opererating Procedures. A new hire First officer dimed him out for pulling the overspeed circuit breaker so he could keep the speed up past the barber pole without sounding the alarm. One more trip to the Chief pilots office for late departures could land him in the unemployement line collecting only a small percentage of his already pitifull wages.

Captain Smith felt comfort in knowing that he could rely on Jones to get everything ready to go before he got there. Jones was ussally on the ball and had the walk around done, the manifest in hand and the weight and balance almost complete before he even set foot on the airstair door. As Captain Smith got closer to the aircraft he noticed no lights on in the cockpit, no power cart connected and no First Officer Jones in sight.

Now cursing to himself and reaching up Captain Smith pulled the handle to release the door. A faint rumbling sound echoed from the aft baggage storage area as the airstair door came down to a rest. Captain Smith then caught a suprising glimps of first officer Jones stading in the baggage area and pulling his pants up around his waist. "I was just checking for some missing baggage from yesterday" Jones Exclaims his voice almost a full octave higher than ussal. Captain Smith not missing a beat says "Ok we better get going I'll go double check the paper work you go ahead and do your ouside walk around". The evidence still remained in Jones' hand, a copy of the Sports Illiustrated Swim Suit addition folded open to the centerfold page. A glob of spew was stuck just above the models chin and glissend in the now rising sun like a shiney penny.

First officer Jones thought during his walk around that he may be safe. The Captain did not react like he had seen anything. "Phew that was close" he thought to himself as he climbed into his seat and Captain Smith called for the origination check List.
FO Jones "Manuels and Supoort Docs " Captn. Smith "Checked"
"Emergency Brake" " Set"
"Batery Master" "On"
" LP Cocks" "Jerked and Tested Grounded and Open"

First officer Jones heart sank as he completed the rest of the checklistl. He knew at the very least he would be buying all the beer for the rest of the month.................................................................