Over the weekend I volunteered at the local air show. This is my 5th year, I believe and I actually got into it thanks to my charming co-author as it is hosted by the museum she used to work at. While her presence is missed, the planes and the golf carts and the pilots generally mean a fun weekend is in store.
Yesterday evening, I was making one of my final runs out on the ramp, taking a couple of the helicopter pilots out to get their bags and we were chatting as everyone does: where they were from, what I do when not at the air show, how their flight in was, I must be tired after the whole weekend. I was chipper to begin with and enjoying my time spent not looking at numbers on a computer screen and by the end of the weekend we all get a bit slap happy so I was all 'nope, not tired, am just having so much fun weeeeeeee'. And Captain Adorable looks over and says you're just the most cheery person ever, aren't you?
I should have said: Three days of chatting up hot pilots in uniform? Bet your ass I'm cheery.
I actually babbled something about my family being in aviation and it being a good show and enjoying the weekend off.
Alas. I totally could have flirted my way into the cockpit. Maybe next year...
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