I can’t say much right now, but I just took a private jet to Virginia. Funny how quickly everything can change. I’ll be here a few days helping Tom look through some of his mom’s (Mary) old papers for any clue about where Artie might be.
I’m pretty sure this flight has been funded by our tax dollars, and a little hint for those who may find themsleves in a similar situation – be wary of your humor as the workers on these private planes have no sense of funny. A little joke about being a mile high and needing my stuff back, and the next thing you know I’ve lost all privileges.
Oh – I didn’t mention my stuff yet. Ok, here it goes:
Tom let me know that before boarding the plane I’d have to empty my pockets into a plastic container (which they would keep until we landed). Unfortunately (for them) he told me this as we were gassing up the car enroute to the hangar.
So I decided to play a little joke on them. I had almost $23 on me, so I bought two energy drinks, a box of magnum condom’s, and almost a hundred red hot fireballs. We had about a thirty minute drive and here’s how it went down: I drank the two energy drinks, opened all the condoms from their individual packaging, then began unwrapping the fireballs and putting them inside the condoms. Then I knotted the condoms and dispersed them into the various pockets about me.
In retrospect it really wasn’t that creative, but it’s all I could come up with at the time. The two ladies whom I had to hand everything to spent about ten minutes trying to figure out what was happening. I thought it’d just be a funny joke, but let’s just say they weren’t laughing. Tom was pissed.
I never did get all my stuff back. Anyway I’m hoping to get some good info while here and perhaps start again on the trail to find Artie.
peace.
