As I’m driving a plane down the highway, airport control radio crackles in, “Unit 332, you left the tarmac. Are you airborne?”
“No,” I reply.
It’s a beautiful day for a plane drive. The sun is shining, none of the passengers are screaming yet, and there’s no traffic. Most people fly planes because there’s less traffic in the sky. I drive one because it only takes several hours longer and you don’t need a license.
A drive-thru! Yet another thing they don’t have in the sky. I signal to change lanes, and open up the emergency chute instead. I keep forgetting planes aren’t designed for roads. Now, I have to change lanes and avoid all the passengers that just fell out. Luckily I’m a good driver and planes have small, easily avoidable, wheels.
Sadly, planes have wings and this drive-thru is not wing-accessible. Row F is going to be so angry—I promised them a burger for winning license plate bingo. So I hand out some peanuts and pretzels and tell ‘em they’re plane burgers.
I intercept a trucker signal. “Avoid Route 9. Some idiot’s sledding in a plane”
I’m a little offended because I’m on Route 9, and the only one in a plane. Maybe my wheels fell off, but I’m clearly driving.
I like to think of plane wheels as training wheels. Without them, we’re really driving. This can-do attitude is what keeps me driving planes. It also helps that if anyone cuts me off I can run them over and win.
We’re headed towards a body of water. Which is good because I was planning on a water landing anyway. Plus, I stopped being able to steer when the wheels fell off. Fortunately, there’s enough time for the passengers to put on their life jackets and swimsuits. Plus the emergency chute looks kind of like a waterslide if you turn your head and shut your eyes.
Personally, I think “Hero” is a strong word. Sure, I got everyone out of the plane and into the hospital alive, but it’s what I do every Tuesday.
