Gulfstream pilots are the Axe Body Spray of aviation
There you are, sitting at your local FBO, waiting for them to gas up your Mooney; in walks a Gulfstream pilot. He’s wearing a Lacoste t-shirt, camouflage cargo shorts, Birkenstocks, and a shiny new pair of aviator Ray Bans. He calls all the women working at the FBO “Sweetheart” or “Sugar”. He is the definition of “Douche Nozzle”. You hate him with all your heart.
He leaves his glasses on, even though the sun just set. He interjects a casual “Giggity” into every other sentence. He reeks of cigarettes and mouthwash. He starts out the conversation with; “Hey, Weinstein is just unappreciated in his time”, before letting out a resounding laugh, and an attempt to slap the ass of the nearest female. He is the gut wrenching hate that everyone feels for a great big Doucher.
The lady behind the desk looks to you for help. You are reminded of Marty McFly, and the time Biff was being too handsy with his mom. God, Back to the Future was a great movie. You clench your fist into a great big ball of rage. You contemplate saying something, but refrain. Not because you’re a little bitch…but because when you wrestle with a pig, all you do is get dirty.
In walks a Skyhawk pilot. Ohh God, this poor guy doesn’t even know what’s about to happen. It’s now, at this moment, that the Gulfstream guy goes full Douche. “Hey little buddy, how are things down at three thousand?” as he lets out a chuckle and looks to anyone for acceptance. “What’d you get that big bad skyhawk up to??? A hundred knots?” he says as he completely loses it laughing. He then goes up to the low time pilot and puts him in a headlock and roughs up his air. He senses that the little guy isn’t too happy about being played with like a rag doll. “Aww, come on…don’t be so sensitive. I’m just messing with ya” he says. The lady behind the desk seizes the opportunity to duck out the back door. She’s too slow. “Hey sweetness, where are you going?” he asks her as he grabs her wrist. “Ohh, nowhere. I mean, I was just gonna go out for a smoke.” she hesitantly says. “Great! I’ll join you. I’m jonesin’ for a puff” he says. As he walks her to the back door, he looks at me, and winks.
As they they leave, he slams the door shut. I look around the room. There are a couple of FBO employees that could help. Who am I kidding? They’re scared. They’re just happy it isn’t them. I look over at the skyhawk guy. He’s working him comb-over back to its original resting place on his big bald head. Subtly tucking in his shirt from where it came out during the commotion. Is there no one else? There has to be someone else that can be the hero? I take a deep breath and stand up. “It’s gotta be me”, I say out loud, in my own head. The others look up, and stare at me in awe. “Finally someone is gonna stand up to that guy” they probably say to themselves.
I begin the long walk towards the back door. What am I gonna say? “Hey Gulfstream Guy…take your damn hands off her”? Nah, that’s too much like George McFly. “Hey Siri, remind me to watch Back to the Future later”. “You got it. I will remind you to watch Back to the Future later”. Thanks Siri, now it’s time to go kick some ass. I open the door…not slowly like a little pussy, but not too hard…I mean if that lady is standing near the door, I don’t want to hurt her. As I open the door I hear the Douche; “I mean at first I was worried that it was ball cancer or something, but after a couple of weeks I realized it was just an ingrown hair”. I round the door and see the lady smoking a cigarette, and the Douche standing awkwardly close to her. “What’s up chief?”, he says to me. I look at her. Her eyes scream “Get me away from this guy”. Continue reading Part two…