I love the idiots who line up for their turn/exit/lane miles back (creating a traffic jam in that lane) while I cruise down the open lane to the front and try to time it just right for some slacker who's not paying attention to leave an opening. If everyone's paying attention, I take my punishment and go to the next turn/exit.

FWIW, there's always a slow-poke and I rarely miss my turn/exit

 

Yeah, he should have worn the uniform of the airline that was interviewing him, as a pre-emptive display of love and commitment.

 

Just got back from the Gas Station/Convenience Store/Liquor Store - I was there for ciggs. 2245 local.

In full uniform minus the tie (epaulets - 3 stripes, metal wings) was a pilot. I asked who he worked for and he said Skywest, everyone heard him. He said he'd been there 7 YEARS and I gotta tell you he looked great. Shirt still ironed, big smile and looked like I do when I show up for work. I never look better than he did.

He was a sensation! Everyone wanted to talk airplanes, airlines and airports with him. And all he was buying was a six pack of Bud Lite.

I'm the tool for not waiting and telling him, "Dude, take off the epaulets and wings when you're buying booze."

 

My personal motto for all trips to the grocery store

 

I'm a tool because I can't wait for 800' AGL so I can turn on the autopilot. My F/Os are all better sticks than me and make me look like a douche-nozzle (my new favorite derogatory term) in the sim.

The good part about that is, we finished our 4 hour sim in 2 hours, due in no small part to either my self-perceived intrepid aviating or his actual ability to fly while hog-tied.

I can't wait to get bumped back to the A-320 because the minimum altitude for engagement is 100' if all conditions are met, like being able to fog a mirror in one breath.

TW

 

The dude who left his full tobacco spit cup in the cupholder from the last flight, inevitably spilling on my pants while climbing into the seat at 540am the next day. I think I would have rather sat in puke.

 

How about those folks who speed up just to get to a red light ?

 

Not as precious as the ones who cut you off in the process.......

 

I noticed there are temporary tools, and tool places. Take, for example, the pit of dispair, the ATL crew lounge. You take a perfectly normal pilot, say a pilot that would acknowledge another pilot anywhere else in the world, and put them down there for, oh, five minutes... TOOL.

You can experience this by walking in quickly, before you yourself turn into a complete TOOL, and send out a little "hey, how you doing" to one of the tools walking around around like he has a broom up his [bleep!]. If they glare at you, full of indignation, you know they've been there long enough.

If they try desperately to avoid eye contact, like a sad depressed Goth teenager, or a feral cat, then you know you're in the DTW crew lounge.

If everyone is more tanned, and more friendly than you, and all they want to do is make eye contact with you, but ever so briefly, and then they immediately forget what they were doing, because someone else comes along, you're in LA.

If they do all of the above within the span of a microsecond, and then they want to hear more about that feral cat, then you're in a Flight Attendant lounge.

 

There are also tool devices. Take for example the HUD/HGS on the 737. It doesn't work on everyone the same way: a good guy remains a good guy. But if you already have a propensity for toolishness, it magnifies it.

If you're starting the trip, and the Captain shows signs already, the minute they bring it down, first putting their hat on backwards like a U-Boat commander stepping up to a periscope, you get confirmation. I don't know exactly what it is, but as the green glow gently overtakes their sweaty forhead, and droplets form underneath the comb-over, you get the feeling they're far, far away, in some universe where tools roam free. It goes away when they give it one long, loving glance, as they put it back in its' little HUD blanket, and fold it away, ever so tenderly. Then they start to figure out a way to make the layover miserable.