Trust isn't something that is usually freely given. It is, instead, earned. Based upon the person you're trying to gain the trust from, depends on how hard you have to work for it. Often times the person may deliver us fake trust to see whether or not they will allow you to proceed. Of course, sometimes, it's quite difficult to tell the fake trust from the real.
Flying an airplane was never anything but easy, even after doing it for a few years. You'd think you get used to it, but in reality you still face the same risks and challenges every time. Sure, you get used to them after a while, but you still need to expect the unexpected.
"Sir," my co-pilot said, "have you flown over the Sahara desert before?"
I laughed and shook my head. "We only ever fly over the states, we aren't an international flight."
This guy was clearly new, at least to this airline. I still admired the guy for being a little curious about our flight patterns. It was an interesting feeling to be the guy that had more experience than the guy next to me. It had actually only been a few months since I was in his position, sitting next to and helping fly with the more experienced person.
After we both got comfortable, we strapped ourselves in and patiently waited for the okay to begin the flight.
"So, what made you want to be a pilot?" I asked.
He was caught off guard by my question and nervously searched for an answer, "My dad grandfather was a pilot and after he passed I thought I'd try my hand at it."
"That's honorable," I said. "And I'm sorry for your loss. He must've been a great guy."
He nodded without a word. I could tell he was getting a little choked up, his eyes were getting a little glazed over.
We heard a knock on the door, followed by the voice of a flight attendant, "We're ready to take off."
They didn't have to tell me twice. It didn't take us long to get the engines up and running. We put it into gear and began to move forward. As we began to move faster, I had him get us lifted up into the sky. He looked terrified at first, but after we were successfully up in the sky, the look of worry faded to a smile. He had done it.
We worked our way into the sky at the level we should be at for the flight, and we let go of tension. We were dead set to go to Chicago.
I raised a hand to high five him. He shot me a confused look for a moment before realizing what I was doing. He reached up and high fived me back. Man, this guy was so nervous. Had he never flown in an airplane before? I figured they'd give me a more experienced co-pilot.
It didn't take too long before we were close to reaching our destination. Sure we may have been traveling for a few hours, but it felt like it had taken a matter of minutes, as I'd been at this far too long.
As we were approaching the runway, I noticed something fly up and hit our windshield. I looked to my co-pilot but he didn't notice anything. Then another thing splatted on the windshield. Then another. It had to be bugs. Why were they up this high?
As we further approached the ground, a swarm of bigger, thick bugs began slamming against, and dying on the window. They were hitting it with such great force that the windshield was beginning to form small cracks. There wasn't much we could do about it besides wait for the bugs to dissipate. They seemingly never did. They continued slamming their bodies against the glass until the cracks began to spread. They were making their way inside. I closed my eyes and prayed for dear life that no harm would come to us.
There was nothing but silence when I shut my eyes. Were they gone? I opened my eyes to find that the windshield was okay, not a scratch on it. Sure there were a few splats of some dead bugs but nothing more than that.
I had told as many people as I could about the situation, about the nightmares that had come of it. Every night I could see those large bugs threatening to break into the plane. I had nobody that believed me about it. My boss even denied me a few days off, said I was making up some excuses to get away from work.
I didn't have a choice, I had to go back the next day, but I needed to find a route that didn't include bugs. I, unfortunately, knew just the guy to help me with it.
They guy's name was Darren. We would often find ourselves being co-pilots to one another. He was probably the meanest person I'd ever worked with, always angry and complaining that I wasn't doing everything perfect, the way he wanted it all done. I wasn't for the strictness, I was for the laid back-ness of the job.
I ended up talking him, as well as my boss, into letting him fly with me for the next few flights. I just needed someone to guarantee a safe flight and one with very few bugs.
After we had everything situated and the plane was up in the sky, I was thankful that Darren wasn't telling me I was doing things incorrectly, as I wasn't actively trying to. Perhaps I was so good at piloting already that my actions were already up to his standards.
When we were all up in the sky, I knew exactly why he wasn't saying anything to me. In fact, he spent the entire ride to Atlanta, laughing about my newly developed fear of bugs. What the hell was wrong with the guy? Sure it sounded a little silly that one incident that had apparently never happened gave me the fear of bugs, but did he have to make fun of and laugh at me the entire time we were in the sky?
The laughter eventually turned to fear as we both heard a splattering against the windshield. It was a bug. Judging by the size of the splat, it had to have been almost the size of my palm.
As we continued flying, the windshield began to get attacked and swarmed by the bugs. It was exactly like the last time I was flying the plane.
I looked to him to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. Surely enough, he looked just as terrified as I was. He pressed the button to activate the wipers, but the bugs were hitting the windshield with such force, they were breaking them off.
It didn't take long for the bugs to begin to break through the glass. When they did, I felt a strong force, like a vacuum, sucking us toward the windshield. The opening began tearing at our flesh until the force caused the entire glass to break, causing everything in the cockpit to fly out.
Flying an airplane was never anything but easy, even after doing it for a few years. You'd think you get used to it, but in reality you still face the same risks and challenges every time. Sure, you get used to them after a while, but you still need to expect the unexpected.
"Sir," my co-pilot said, "have you flown over the Sahara desert before?"
I laughed and shook my head. "We only ever fly over the states, we aren't an international flight."
This guy was clearly new, at least to this airline. I still admired the guy for being a little curious about our flight patterns. It was an interesting feeling to be the guy that had more experience than the guy next to me. It had actually only been a few months since I was in his position, sitting next to and helping fly with the more experienced person.
After we both got comfortable, we strapped ourselves in and patiently waited for the okay to begin the flight.
"So, what made you want to be a pilot?" I asked.
He was caught off guard by my question and nervously searched for an answer, "My dad grandfather was a pilot and after he passed I thought I'd try my hand at it."
"That's honorable," I said. "And I'm sorry for your loss. He must've been a great guy."
He nodded without a word. I could tell he was getting a little choked up, his eyes were getting a little glazed over.
We heard a knock on the door, followed by the voice of a flight attendant, "We're ready to take off."
They didn't have to tell me twice. It didn't take us long to get the engines up and running. We put it into gear and began to move forward. As we began to move faster, I had him get us lifted up into the sky. He looked terrified at first, but after we were successfully up in the sky, the look of worry faded to a smile. He had done it.
We worked our way into the sky at the level we should be at for the flight, and we let go of tension. We were dead set to go to Chicago.
I raised a hand to high five him. He shot me a confused look for a moment before realizing what I was doing. He reached up and high fived me back. Man, this guy was so nervous. Had he never flown in an airplane before? I figured they'd give me a more experienced co-pilot.
It didn't take too long before we were close to reaching our destination. Sure we may have been traveling for a few hours, but it felt like it had taken a matter of minutes, as I'd been at this far too long.
As we were approaching the runway, I noticed something fly up and hit our windshield. I looked to my co-pilot but he didn't notice anything. Then another thing splatted on the windshield. Then another. It had to be bugs. Why were they up this high?
As we further approached the ground, a swarm of bigger, thick bugs began slamming against, and dying on the window. They were hitting it with such great force that the windshield was beginning to form small cracks. There wasn't much we could do about it besides wait for the bugs to dissipate. They seemingly never did. They continued slamming their bodies against the glass until the cracks began to spread. They were making their way inside. I closed my eyes and prayed for dear life that no harm would come to us.
There was nothing but silence when I shut my eyes. Were they gone? I opened my eyes to find that the windshield was okay, not a scratch on it. Sure there were a few splats of some dead bugs but nothing more than that.
I had told as many people as I could about the situation, about the nightmares that had come of it. Every night I could see those large bugs threatening to break into the plane. I had nobody that believed me about it. My boss even denied me a few days off, said I was making up some excuses to get away from work.
I didn't have a choice, I had to go back the next day, but I needed to find a route that didn't include bugs. I, unfortunately, knew just the guy to help me with it.
They guy's name was Darren. We would often find ourselves being co-pilots to one another. He was probably the meanest person I'd ever worked with, always angry and complaining that I wasn't doing everything perfect, the way he wanted it all done. I wasn't for the strictness, I was for the laid back-ness of the job.
I ended up talking him, as well as my boss, into letting him fly with me for the next few flights. I just needed someone to guarantee a safe flight and one with very few bugs.
After we had everything situated and the plane was up in the sky, I was thankful that Darren wasn't telling me I was doing things incorrectly, as I wasn't actively trying to. Perhaps I was so good at piloting already that my actions were already up to his standards.
When we were all up in the sky, I knew exactly why he wasn't saying anything to me. In fact, he spent the entire ride to Atlanta, laughing about my newly developed fear of bugs. What the hell was wrong with the guy? Sure it sounded a little silly that one incident that had apparently never happened gave me the fear of bugs, but did he have to make fun of and laugh at me the entire time we were in the sky?
The laughter eventually turned to fear as we both heard a splattering against the windshield. It was a bug. Judging by the size of the splat, it had to have been almost the size of my palm.
As we continued flying, the windshield began to get attacked and swarmed by the bugs. It was exactly like the last time I was flying the plane.
I looked to him to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. Surely enough, he looked just as terrified as I was. He pressed the button to activate the wipers, but the bugs were hitting the windshield with such force, they were breaking them off.
It didn't take long for the bugs to begin to break through the glass. When they did, I felt a strong force, like a vacuum, sucking us toward the windshield. The opening began tearing at our flesh until the force caused the entire glass to break, causing everything in the cockpit to fly out.
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