Wednesday, May 4, 2011

It's been a long trip when...

You know it's been a long trip when..

You awake with a start when the pillow on the bed moves, then your dog growls at you.

You have to wait until the FMS initializes before you know where you are, as if you really cared.

Even then, you still need a progressive at the single runway, single taxiway airport, "Uh, is that a right turn or a left turn?"

You open the door to your apartment and the smell knocks you on your butt. Everything in the freezer has spoiled and/or it's a gas leak.

You no longer give the "welcome aboard" announcement without referring to the flight release, having stopped trying to remember the destination, even for a single flight.

While doing your taxes, you realize it would be cheaper to use a hotel room for those nights you are home. It cost $12,000 to store your stuff last year.

The specials on the lone pizza place ad hanging on your doorknob expired months ago.

An hour after falling asleep at your place, the cops arrive, suspecting a break-in.

You arrive home to find someone else living in your place, the landlord having thought you abandoned it, despite still accepting your rent checks.

Given the choice to sleep in the plane or head to a hotel 45 mins away, you sleep in the plane. More room, less noisy, cleaner bathroom, and no housekeeping.

You get home and realize you don't care if you ever see an airplane again. When you wake up, you realize you feel the same way.

The fire alarm goes off at 2 AM, and....
you hope you die in the fire.
you aren't getting up for anything.
you just got in to the room.
you were already in the shower.
you sleep through it until waking up in an ambulance, the firemen unable to rouse you. You request another set of earplugs and go back to sleep.
you waken the next morning and are some sort of local hero for having rescued 3 or more people, put out the fire, performed CPR on somebody saving their life, and don't remember anything 'cept one heck of a dream.

The FO looks like a white-haired gnome.

You look like a white-haired gnome.

If the company doesn't replace the FO, you're quitting right then and there.

You write a four page crewmember report for the FO breathing too loud.

You welcome the Fed doing a line check, just to have someone else to talk to.

You bump two revenue pax for weight-and-balance purposes, and accommodate a jumpseater, requiring he sit in the jumpseat for "weight and balance purposes," just to have someone else to talk to.

You conduct three days of the trip without speaking a word to the FO, relying entirely on hand signals.

You deliberately tweak TSA enough to get the extra-long screening, just long enough to miss the flight, even with a reserve having to be called in.

You wake up with a start as the last thing you remember was intercepting the localizer, and you're ankle deep in water, having fallen asleep in the shower.

Your opposite gender crashpad roommate opens the bathroom door out of concern, as your loud snoring had stopped.

You pull up outside of your place, and wonder why the gate key doesn't work. After trying all the other gates, you finally realized you moved out before the trip.

You call your significant other by your co-pilot's name.

You jumpseat home and upon liftoff, realize you're jumpseating to the former home.

You don't realize you're on the wrong side of the country until you've wandered around employee parking for an hour.

You do some clothes shopping halfway through the trip and still manage to fit everything into your 22" roller.

Having shown at the airport at 4:30 AM only to have a series of flight cancellations for the airline trip home, you then begin a game of invol os roulette. Winner takes home two or more round-trip tickets.

You know where the sleeping mats and employee hotel are located at MSP.

You show for the front desk associate's kid's soccer game, having nothing else to do on a Saturday and no call.

You see the crew tracker waiting in the jetway, yet when the FA opens the crew door, you and the FO are gone, having used the FO's escape rope.

The next time you pull into the gate at the end of a trip, you see the crew tracker in the jetway and one on the ground. Thinking quickly, you change blazers and hats with the jumpseaters and bribe the FO $20 to tell the trackers you're in the lav. The jumpseater wearing your jacket tells the crew tracker that he's just a jumpseater as you breeze past them.

The next time you pull into the gate at the end of the trip with vacation starting the next day, there's a crew tracker on the ground and one in the jetway plus the CP in the jetway. Fortunately, the cater opens the door first, so for $100, you and the FO hide in the catering truck.

The next time you pull into the gate at the end of a trip, to see the crew tracker in the jetway, the CP's in your jumpseat. For an undisclosed sum to the cater, you, the FO, and the CP hide in the catering truck.

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