
I get it, it sounds like bragging, but It’s not like I get to ride it wherever I want.
I’m like a glorified bus driver. Taking orders and executing it to perfection. That’s what I love about bus drivers, they are the heartbeat of a community. Think about it, how do you get your broke-ass around the city? You take that awful cramped smelly bus. Someone has to drive that awful mortuary on wheels, and that person is called a bus driver.
Earning trust isn’t easy. Earning so much trust that someone will let you drive something that expensive is unprecedented. Think of the last time you let a friend drive your car. No car? Okay, think of the last time you let a friend ride your bike. No bike? Think of the last time you let your friend borrow your Pulp Fiction DVD. A part of you knew you would never see that DVD again.
You have unreliable friends. I’m simply going to leave it at that. You’re no better. They say you become the people you surround yourself with.
I’m not saying it’s your fault. There really isn’t anything you can do. But listen, you can only carry so much in your life, and if you want good things, you’d need to drop some of the bad. If you want to have a $160M ride, you’d need to get some cooler, more reliable – or at least richer — friends.
That’s what I did.
Look, I’m not a motivational speaker or a life coach or anything like that. I’m simply one of the most successful jet fighters in the academy.
When something needs to get nuked — and get nuked fast. They call me. I tell them to give me a two-week notice, but they always call me last minute, and believe me, as I get into the plane, I’m a bit resentful, but heck, not everyone can do what you want. And that’s why I don’t think you will listen to me either. Who am I anyways… I’m just an employee.
But I think I have a pretty good job. I know this because, whenever I tell people what I do, they perk up and ask, “How do you become a warplane pilot?”
It makes me feel pretty good. I know that accountants don’t get that same type of fanfare. “How did you become a CPA?” We all know how to become an accountant: by killing yourself from the inside. JK accountants are cool. Crunching numbers and all that good stuff.
I always wonder what it would be like to have a simple job and a simple life. You know, wake up, brew coffee, play with my children and teach them the importance about following their dreams but not doing so myself, go to a job where I sit at a computer, talk about my fantasy team with my colleagues, meet my monthly quota (whatever that means, I hear it being said on the television sometimes), and then come home eat dinner and do it all over again.
Would I trade a day of my life with a paper pusher? Absolutely. I think I can sit at a desk and open and close browsers, and pretend to be working by emailing myself thoughtful musings. I would be the employee of the fucking month.
I’m what you would call an over-achiever. Whatever scenario you put me in, I am going to over excel. I remember when I was a little boy, playing doctor dodgeball. The objective of doctor dodgeball is simple — you remember the movie, Hacksaw Ridge? It’s like that but in dodgeball form. So, while war is raging and casualties are falling, the doctors will come and retrieve the fallen elementary school students.
Was I a doctor? Fuck no. I was the slayer of the enemy’s doctors. Kill the doctors. Win the war. That mentality has stayed with me into adulthood. That is how I overachieve. You don’t try to be the person who mends and heals and talk nicely to people. You need to be the person that destroys your enemy’s top resources. You can say that is how I got into this gig: I kind of fell into it.
After the dodgeball game, a talent scout came up to me and said, “Wow kid, I see a lot of potential in you.”
I told him I can give him an autograph but if he wants to negotiate a deal or discuss my future, he would have to contact my attorney and management team.
My manager, Travis, got back to me about a week later with a simple proposal. Flying jet planes. I said, “That sounds like fun.” And the rest is history.
Look, a lot of people are going to tell you that all you can amount to is someone who helps people who sit at computers for a living file taxes, but listen! That’s not true. If you have this secret desire to kill people and express it in a way that can attract the government, and be lucky enough to exhibit that skillset in an arena where federal officials are present, then you too can have an awesome ride and an awesome life like me.
I drive a $160 million jet plane to and from work every day. My office is in the skies over the Middle East. I love my life. Do you love yours?
What you’ve just read is the sixth post in a series entitled “A Fan Fiction of My Life by My Number One Fan, Me.” Please check out the first five posts from the series:
Me, A Doctor
I Am A Controversial Artist, AMA
A Well-Respected Elderly Man, It’s Me
Bringer of Bad News, I’m the One
Yes, I Am Blind with a Broken Heart
Did you enjoy it? Yes, subscribe to this blog, sign up for my newsletter or follow me on Twitter, stalk me in real life to get the latest update.