O What tangled webs we weave!

Recently, I ran into a good friend and fellow captain, Kristin, in the crew room during a multi-hour sit between flights at the airport. Somehow, we got on the subject of bars and bar conversation. She asked what my cover was. I didn't know what she was talking about.

"Well, what do you tell people you do for a living when they ask?" She asked.
"Um.... the truth?" I said.
"Nooooo..." she said, shaking her head. "Let's face it: what we do is fascinating to people outside of our profession. You tell them the truth, and you'll be stuck talking to them for a long time, faced with the same questions you get all day, when all you want to do is enjoy your evening. 'Wow! A pilot! What do you fly? What airline do you fly for? Were you in the military? Do you have a specific route? How long are you in town? Why do I have to turn off my iPad? How fast/high/far do you fly?  How long did it take you to become a pilot?' Blah blah blah blah blah!"

She was right. The list goes on and on and on. Not that I mind questions; even the same questions over and over. I love talking about what I do, because I love what I do. I enjoy educating people and explaining the "why's" of things. However, I don't want to draw attention to the fact that I am a pilot, or that we are a flight crew, when out at a bar. It's not that we get wild (though, on the long overnights - with certain people whose names have been changed to protect the crazy, sometimes that happens!); it's just that I hate facing an endless barrage of questions, when all we want to do is unwind. Plus, the obvious - pilot reputations are bad enough and I just don't want to add to the stereotype. Also, there are some people out there who might want to make something out of nothing... people who would call up the powers that be and make trouble - even though we're following the rules regarding alcohol and time between "bottle to throttle."

"Well, what would you suggest?" I asked.
Kristin's eyes brightened, her voice got hushed, she leaned forward, and I could tell I was about to receive some sage advice. "Well, when I go out with the crew, I pick something boring. Usually, I'm Maria, the paralegal. Sometimes, I'm Maria, the accountant. I used to get the whole crew to say that we were underwater welders.... but then we actually met some underwater welders!"
"No one would believe me." I said. "I don't know the first thing about any of those jobs. I don't think I could make up anything believable should they ask. "
"It doesn't matter. When you pick something insanely boring, it's a total conversation killer. They never ask any follow up questions! Try it!"

She was right again. My father is a C.P.A. I have no idea what the man does during the period of time that is not between January 1 and April 15 - and I've known him for 36 years. I'm sure his job is fascinating to other people who love numbers and taxes, but I doubt anyone at the bar would listen with baited breath to any wild tax stories.

A week later, opportunity knocked.

It was a Saturday night in Albany, NY. As I set the brake after the last flight of the day, I was already thinking about how good the taste of Scotch was going to be on my lips. I wanted a nice, quiet evening, and so did the crew. The Flight Attendant didn't drink, so she ran off to Walgreens in search of food that wasn't tuna. Austin (my First Officer) and I waded through an elevator and lobby full of noisy teenagers and found ourselves in the tiny, quiet sanctuary of the hotel bar. We had our choice of barstools, and the tv was playing an old movie on the Family Channel.

The bartender-ess walked over and I asked, "What the hell is 'Dirty Dancing' doing on the Family Channel?" She answered my question with a question.
"What'll it be?"
"Glenlivet. Neat. And a water." Austin had Maker's Mark and coke. We clinked our glasses and sat in silence. The night was off to a perfect start! She gave us menus and we ordered some food that was awful for us. Bartender-ess left us alone, and I looked up and admired the view of Patrick Swayze dancing with his shirt off.

Then, like a lightning bolt from the clear blue sky..... they come in. I don't remember their names; we'll call them Mickey and Sylvia, since Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Gray were lip syncing to "Love is Strange" when these two people sidled up to the bar. They were a married couple, probably in their 50's. Sylvia with long black hair, and Mickey with short brown hair and a mustache. I wanted to ask him if he was growing it for No-shave Movember, like my buddy Austin next to me, or if his face always looked like that..... but I decided I didn't want to insult him and I didn't really care anyway.

The bartender became friendly. "You again!" she cried. They made small talk, and something Mickey said made Austin and I laugh. We were pretty sure this wasn't Mickey's first drink of the night. Our laughter caught his attention. "Heeeeeyyy!!! What's goin' on, you two? What brings you in town?"

I heard Kristin's words echo in my mind. I had to think fast. We're tourists? No. It's cold, rainy, and gross here. It's November, for God's sake. Who tours ALBANY after the leaves change? Visiting friends? No, because we'd certainly be with our friends at this hour on a Saturday night. "Oh, just business," said Austin.
"What kind of business you in?"
Austin didn't answer. I'm a blimp folder for the US Army, I thought. "I'm a CPA," I heard myself say. It was almost a question. God, I'm a bad liar!
"Oh." Pause. You could see the wheels in Mickey's head trying to come up with something else to say or ask that would further the conversation. The best he could do was, "Number cruncher, eh?"
"Yep. That's me. I love numbers." I shrugged. "It's boring, but...."
"But somebody's gotta do it, right?" from his wife, Sylvia, so kind and supportive of a complete stranger. I felt a little guilty. There was another long pause. I nodded and sipped my Scotch. More silence. Haha! It worked! Kristin, you are awesome! Thanks!!
He glanced at my wedding ring. "So, what about your husband over there?" I guess they couldn't possibly fathom what my being a CPA had to do with a business trip to New York State. Oh, he's retired. He's at home with our cat...
"I'm an industrial welder," from Austin. Oh... right.... THAT husband! Austin and I are married now! To each other! Not quite the underwater welder, but at least this is believable. This was getting fun. Unfortunately, next to my choice of careers, Austin became the most interesting person in the world to Mickey and Sylvia.
"Hey! You don't say! Where are you working?"
Austin looked a little perplexed. No one had asked follow up questions before. "Oh. Just, ah... downtown."
"We're locals. I'm downtown all the time. Maybe I've seen you! What street? What company? How long will you be in town?"
I had to take another sip of Scotch to hide the smile I just couldn't keep off my face. My lie was better than Austin's lie, I thought smugly. Patting myself on the back, I started to giggle a little and tried to act like I was coughing. "Um.... Sweetie...." Austin turned to me, his eyes wide in a can you believe this shit? expression, "do you remember the name of the street?"
I was going to say something like "Main street," but I was too busy trying to hide my giggles. I choked! Austin whipped out his phone to desperately search the streets of downtown Albany - without bothering to even try hiding what he was doing from these two very nice people. "Pearl Street!! I work on Pearl Street." Satisfied that he had provided a believable answer, he finished the rest of his drink.
"I'd like to buy you two your next drink!!" Well hell.... who were we to deny someone the pleasure of buying us booze? Austin felt just as bad for lying to these nice people as I did, and neither of us would have him pay for something as expensive as what we had been drinking. We each ordered a Sam Adams on draft, and thanked him. Unfortunately, that meant we were stuck talking to them a little while longer.

I tried to change the subject. After all, people love talking about themselves! "What about you two? What do you do, locally, here in Albany?"
Mickey was retired. Sylvia was a special ed teacher. A special ed teacher! Finally, a background I can talk about! I called upon my short experience in the classroom when I was a high school band director and was ready to talk shop with Sylvia. I tried asking her about her job, but Mickey wouldn't have it.

"So... Austin.... where did you go to school to learn the art of welding?"
Shit. By this time, the bartender decided we were interesting, too. We must have been hilarious to watch. "Akron, OH" He said, uncomfortably.
"Oh!!! I have a buddy in that area!!" Of course you do, I thought. Is this really happening? "What's the name of the school?"
Austin stammered. He cleared his throat. He looked at me for help, but I was useless. I've never been to Akron, and the only part of Ohio I'm familiar with is the Cleveland airport. He picked up his phone.
"Gee. You'd think you'd remember the name of the college you graduated from," said Sylvia with a wry grin, totally busting our lie wide open.
"Well.... we've actually had a lot to drink tonight," I said, never sounding more sober in my life. She didn't buy it. "We started drinking in our room before we came down," as if that explained everything.
Google to the rescue again. "Akron Testing Laboratory and Welding School!" Austin exclaimed triumphantly. "Sorry... it's just been a long day, and like my wife said, we've had a lot to drink."

The subject turned to kids. They didn't believe us when we said we had a four-year-old. I wonder why? Austin showed them the sweetest little picture of them playing dress-up on Halloween. His son dressed up as a pilot, complete with hat and mustache, and Austin was wearing his pilot uniform. The picture is absolutely adorable. "Wow, GREAT costume man! How did you find matching pilot costumes? Yours looks so real!"

The questions kept coming. "How long have you been married?"
I felt bad that Austin had to keep answering the questions, so I chimed in, "Six years."
"Where did you meet?"
Jesus Christ, what the hell is with these people?? "On the internet," I said before Austin could answer. The lies were coming easier now. I wondered how hard it would be to remember all of our lies if I kept drinking. I had caught a good buzz by now, and I asked the bartender for another beer. I was ready to tell them that we'd met in a sex chat room, hooked up, and fell in love after he knocked me up. Alas, I didn't get the chance.

Their food came, thank GOD. The bartender showed us pictures of her kids. We asked for our checks. Just when I thought I was getting away unscathed, she mentioned that her husband was also a CPA!! He was working on his doctorate so he could teach at the local university, and create more CPAs.

I got nervous. My head was foggy from the booze. I tried to add in the tip and heard myself say, "What's 8 plus 6?"
From Sylvia..... "You'd think a number cruncher would be an expert at simple math." SHIT!
Then Mickey started saying things like, "it's all a lie. He's really an undercover cop. Or CIA. Don't shoot me Mr. Uncercover cop!! Hahaha!"
Sylvia did her best to shut him up, as Austin and I practically sprinted out of there!! That's us, the married couple. Each holding our own hotel room key and paying separate checks with our own credit cards.

We laughed so hard in the elevator on the way up to our rooms!!!

I suppose we got what we deserved. Austin says, "They were nice people. I hate lying to nice people." I guess we both need to work on our cover stories a little more. The questions about flying were so much easier to answer!!