in the area. What is it that you said you do?”
“I’m a flight instructor.”
“Wow,” she said, clearly impressed as I took a look at the leather couch and big screen TV. “Well, here you are.” She walked over and dropped the keys into my waiting hand. “Your copy of the rental agreement is on the counter. You said you’ve never been to Charleston?”
“No, ma’am. I’ve done a bit of research on the web.” I turned to her, my chest bursting with excitement. “Thank you.”
“I think I’ll call you in a week. Just to see how you’re doing.”
I looked at her with a curious glance.
She gave me a knowing smile. “Oh, honey, you don’t know where you are...yet.”
When she shut the door, I clamped my hands over my mouth to cover my squeal, but I knew she’d heard it. Ten minutes later, I was dressed in an oversized white tee, pink panties, black Ray-Bans, and knee-high socks, sliding across my new hardwoods to Bob Seger. And it was the best day of my life.
You know that part in the movie Top Gun when Kelly McGillis walks around, sex clad in aviators and an oversized bomber jacket while the gorgeous buffet of pilots sit a little straighter in their chairs and do their best to intimidate their new instructor? In that movie, Kelly took zero crap as she fired at will, demonstrating her expertise and rightfully gaining the upper hand. I’d imagined something similar for my first day as an instructor.
This was not that.
First, the white-walled classroom was freezing, and I was positive my nipples were perked up in an embarrassing display through my tight, thin, pink sweater. My pilots were all in their late thirties to early fifties and looked nothing like a young Tom Cruise or Val Kilmer, aside from one man who seemed completely uninterested in a damn word I was about to say. I was disappointed not to see one woman in the class of around fifteen pilots, but it was expected. It saddened me to no end that the majority of those in the air were still men. The percentage still 97% men in the industry.
Well, I was in the other 3%, and I was sure that these men felt that same contempt for me as they did sexy McGillis because they all looked bored or pissed to be there. I studied them for several moments as they rudely kept busy on their cell phones.
“It’s not the same plane as you are used to, gentlemen,” I said with certainty and in lieu of a greeting. “More advanced, glass flight deck, larger wingspan, and it’s faster than anything you have ever flown. And you don’t know how to operate it.”
That got the attention of the only good looking pilot in the room. At least I knew I had read his thoughts.
“I’ve been in the air, gentlemen, and often. If you want to compare swords with me, simply open up your packet and take a look at my flight log. I don’t need your respect, but I do need your attention.”
One by one, cell phones were set down, and all eyes landed on my nipples.
Well, it was progress.
I looked over the cell phone pics I’d taken over the last few weeks. Cotton candy sunsets, a dead jellyfish, the infamous and ancient Angel Oak Tree, Market Street traffic, a horse with an eye patch. Charleston, in a word, was...amazing! The realtor had been right. The city itself was a best-kept secret. A secret that was apparently spreading due to the significant amount of wandering tourists, myself included. I’d spent hours roaming the city on a self-tour.
I’d never really been the type to get lonely. I’ll just go ahead and put it out there.
I’m an alien.
Well, that’s not exactly true, but when I was young, my obsession with aircraft kept me out of any form of a circle of friends. It was easy to play pilot when you were six with the Sunday school kids. When you’re eleven, and you prefer to put together airplane models instead of shopping at the mall, that you weren’t even allowed to frequent, it can start to become an issue. I had a handful of friends in high school, and even they gave me some odd looks from time to time.
Okay, maybe I was a bit too informational, less conversational.
In the last week, and in my new city, I felt more at home than ever in my own company. The pace was far slower than