Gherkin Street

By Red Dinger:

From the Confessional Again (*)

(*) True confessions reported so that we may each learn from the folly of others. Names have been misspelt to protect the innocent …

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. Its been some years since my last confession.

I don’t know if you recall but the last time I was here I confessed to being an alcoholic. You were quite angry and told me do something about my affliction. Being drunk at the time I didn’t quite catch what you said next but I think it was something about doing five Bloody Mary’s. Very decent of you I must say.

Anyway, it turned out to be good advice because if I hadn’t gone to that bar across the street, you know, the one that sends you cheap cask wine for you to serve at Communion, I wouldn’t have met the people best suited to help with being an alcoholic. Yes, pilots.

Anyway, it wasn’t long before I too was flying the friendly skies with my fellow alcoholics. Its so much easier than driving a car while drunk, much harder to hit another plane than a car filled with Nuns. I’m guessing you probably heard about that in the newspapers and TV coverage. Talk about a dirty habit – blood everywhere! Oh well, other than you, its not like anyone is going to miss them.

The great thing about being a pilot is that no one really knows when you are drunk. Its only a problem when you start to sober up and get the shakes. What do you think turbulence really is? Plus its hard to pour a rum and coke while flying straight. That’s not to say we don’t fling the plane about a bit just for a laugh now and then. If we didn’t, people would think we were only using the autopilot.

But I ask you father, have you ever tried to use a computer when you are drunk? Well, other than to look at porn I suppose. Don’t try to tell me you haven’t, I’ve seen the way you look at your Altar Boys. And, I’ve heard you singing your Offertory Hymn to them.

Anyway Father, I found being a pilot very therapeutic. It’s a great way to deal with anger issues. Whenever I was pissed off, I just used to make the plane sit on the tarmac for hours until I felt like going. Nothing cheers you up more than hearing other people’s frustration at being only 10 feet from the terminal but yet not able to disembark.

Of course, flying designated routes can get boring, especially if one of the other pilots is having a party somewhere other than your destination. That’s why we divert to other airports by the way.

It can be lonely though, especially on the long hauls. Thankfully, that is why God invented cabin attendants. Boy, do they know how to look after you on and/or after a long flight! They don’t call it a “layover” for nothing. What’s even better about being part of the flight crew is that the drinking makes you far less discerning. It’s a good thing too as there are a lot more willing male flight attendants than female.

Come to think of it, isn’t your brother a flight attendant? I’m pretty sure I’ve “touched down” with him, if you get my drift. But, you knew that already didn’t you?

Anyway, Father, I suppose you could say that everything was just great for me until someone called the airline and reported me. The Union did their best but I got fired. At least they were able to cover it up, I believe they said I was Ralph Fiennes or something.

So, now the only plane I can fly is a crappy little twin propeller plane for people stupid enough to come to this desolate, mangy town to experience their first skydive. The flights aren’t long enough to enjoy a drink and the passengers are already scared so they think my erratic flying is just part of the deal.

The only good news is that no one ever blames the pilot for a parachute that fails to open. I don’t do it very often but if customers are rude then I let then fall. Usually though I don’t tamper with their parachutes I just drop them near enough to the freeway that if they make a mistake or the crosswind gets them then I get to see another car crash.

Anyway Father, I must go. Oh, did I mention that my mates at the airline were able to find out who it was that called and got me fired? Its so nice to be able to shake your hand for making that call because I am so much happier now – not! Still, it is a comfort to know that when I let go of your hand to go back to the flight controls that you will become yet another happy customer … for the undertaker.

Don’t worry, I’ll help scrape you up off the ground. You really should have checked your parachute Father. Not to mention who was flying the plane …