Wednesday, February 24, 2010

A Night with FlyG In Three Acts: Act 2 Exclusivity
The Secret World of Flight Attendants

You may or may not remember a few things about Fly G, and so here is another tidbit that you'll want to hear. Fly G is called Fly G because he's a flight attendant for a young airline company. He hates it there naturally, and he's informed me that flight attending involves little more than kicking out rowdy minorities from airplanes and getting so drunk with coworkers that they all forget how they get home.

After outting himself as an ebay scammer and after we finished our meal Fly G decided that we should go to Gym Bar.

Gym Bar isn't really fun, but I go there because I must commit myself to documenting my good friend who I've known for near a century here in NY, he's like my brother...who scams people over ebay and sleeps with thug black boys.

We order our drinks and Fly G is talking about his father who is a racist ex-cop. When Fly G goes to visit his father they trade quips about how bad and unruly the darkies are. I think Fly G's father knows that his son was enamored with a black guy but neither of them care.

"So he just talks about how many people he had to pull over.." Fly G says, and with a mischievous smile he leans in and whispers "especially the coloreds!" At that moment I look to my right and see a friendly looking black guy, drink in hand, who is slightly drunk.

"How are youuuu boys doing today?" He asks.
"It's really crowded here tonight isn't it?" He continues.
"Yeah it's tough to get a drink, it's a good thing they're in big glasses otherwise I'd have to get two at a time!" I say.

I notice the body language from this gentleman. He's clean and effeminate, in other words he is not at all Fly G's type, who likes them thuggish with big billed caps on their heads. Nevertheless our new friend has taken a liking to Fly G and I'm only filling in the awkward silences with some meaningless fluff.

"So what do you do?" I ask.
"I'm a flight attendant." Our new friend answers.

Fly G's eyes arch devilishly as he points an accusatory finger at our new friend's chest.

"I bet I can guess the airline you work at in 2 questions," says Fly G.

Our friend accepts the challenge and Fly G starts:

"When were you hired?" Fly G demands.
"Around 2 years ago." He replies
"Hmm I see ok. Next one, what terminal do you work in?!" Fly G shouts.
"You are a feisty one!" He slurs. "And cute..."
Fly G has solved his riddle without caring about the answer to the second question.

"You work for DELTA! Don't you!!?" Fly G has guessed and I look over to the man with genuine curiosity. Had my friend guessed correctly? How did he do it.

Our new friend looked playfully deflated. "Yeeess I work for Delta." He admits.

I am amazed, and I'm determined to see how Fly G knew this, but I excuse myself to the bathroom briefly, and when I come back I see Fly G has bought a drink for me. "Here drink it," he says, "I told that guy it was for him, but he didn't touch it and went to make a phone call."

I take some sips and he comes back.

"Is this my drink?" He asks. "Someone drank it."

Fly G looks insulted. "Well no," he clarifies, "it isn't yours. We offered it to you, but Kevin drank some."

"You know you have a damned attitude," the Delta flight attendant says, "and it's real sad!"
"Ok fine then leave!" Fly G implores.

The Delta flight attendant looks at me as I shrug.

"I've got to make another call excuse me," he says.

As he walks away I think this will be the last we see of him. I turn to Fly G and ask him how he guessed the man worked for Delta. "Delta hired a ton of faggy niggers two years ago," he said, "my airline only hires big black thugs. Thuglies!" He gulps down his drink.

I'm amazed at the deductive reasoning at work.

"Let's go outside, I need a cig" Fly G says, which is curious because he doesn't smoke.

(to be concluded in act 3)


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