Awful House, 4:30 am.
Try to decide which is worse–the two roaches scurrying around the condiments, or the lame-brained guy in the paper hat, prattling on about his guts while you try to eat.
“You ever get that real sharp gut pain,” he asks, “where all of a sudden you really have to go to the bathroom super bad?”
Must be cancer, I want to say but don’t. You should get it checked out.
What I really don’t want to do is chat here at the buttcrack of dawn while I’m trying to cram one last run-through of the memory items I’ll be expected to recite for the oral exam prior to the simulator exam: “Passenger switches–on.”
What the hell is a “passenger switch?” Actually, that should read “fasten belts switch,” because that’s what you need in a rapid depressurization. Boeing obviously misprinted the step, but since Boeing…
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