Tell me there's not a list
I was down at my hangar today at Boeing Field, getting some stuff done on the airplane, cleaning house. And I knew the President was going to land around 10 to do some sex-for-money with people in Medina for Reichert's campaign. I wanted to see AF1 land, as did a bunch of other people, apparently.
Across the field a Starlifter sat, having brought in the advance people and vehicles and weapons and radios and all the other mobile battlements that have to follow the president. The rooftops had a couple dozen sharpshooters and guys with radios and observation equipment.
I opened my hangar door 8 or 10 feet, which is what you do if you want light and air. There were a dozen or so other guys along the ramp outside their hangars, radios and binoculars in hand, waiting for W.'s arrival.
I heard a call on the radio from AF1, so I walked out and stood waiting for a few minutes. There were black SUVs at taxiways leading off the runway. Suddenly the one nearest me, about 300 yards away, did a U-turn and headed directly at my hangar, hitting 60 MPH or so. They did the Executive Stop three feet from my toes, with the passenger window facing me.
"Sir, you must go inside your hangar and close the door."
I'm uncomprehending. "Inside? Close the door?" My head swivels to see people out on the ramp, pilots, mechanics, just standing around.
"Go inside your hangar - now - and close the door."
"I don't - "
"Go inside your hangar right now and close your door. Now."
"I'll close the door." WTF is this? "What if I open the small door to look out?"
Serious Man In Black #1 looks at his partner, the driver, and they exchange some cerebral fluid. "Close the hangar door. Then you may come out, close your door, and stand here."
So that's what I did. I came back out with binocs and my phone, and watched as a bunch of the other average white pilot guys who had been standing around trotted out to the taxiway to watch as AF1 lined up on two-mile final. The Black SUV raced back out to the taxiway, past all the other guys, and parked where he had started from.
I watched the plane land, and took pics through the binoculars. Then I went back in to my tasks.
My mechanic, whose hangar is five doors down from me came into my hangar a few minutes later, laughing. "BUSTED! I saw the SS come after you. What did you do?"
I told him what the exchange was.
"That's weird. My hangar door was open, and I was out front sitting on a step ladder. And down the row? They all had their hangars open. Who's list are you on?"
That's a good goddamn question.
Across the field a Starlifter sat, having brought in the advance people and vehicles and weapons and radios and all the other mobile battlements that have to follow the president. The rooftops had a couple dozen sharpshooters and guys with radios and observation equipment.
I opened my hangar door 8 or 10 feet, which is what you do if you want light and air. There were a dozen or so other guys along the ramp outside their hangars, radios and binoculars in hand, waiting for W.'s arrival.
I heard a call on the radio from AF1, so I walked out and stood waiting for a few minutes. There were black SUVs at taxiways leading off the runway. Suddenly the one nearest me, about 300 yards away, did a U-turn and headed directly at my hangar, hitting 60 MPH or so. They did the Executive Stop three feet from my toes, with the passenger window facing me.
"Sir, you must go inside your hangar and close the door."
I'm uncomprehending. "Inside? Close the door?" My head swivels to see people out on the ramp, pilots, mechanics, just standing around.
"Go inside your hangar - now - and close the door."
"I don't - "
"Go inside your hangar right now and close your door. Now."
"I'll close the door." WTF is this? "What if I open the small door to look out?"
Serious Man In Black #1 looks at his partner, the driver, and they exchange some cerebral fluid. "Close the hangar door. Then you may come out, close your door, and stand here."
So that's what I did. I came back out with binocs and my phone, and watched as a bunch of the other average white pilot guys who had been standing around trotted out to the taxiway to watch as AF1 lined up on two-mile final. The Black SUV raced back out to the taxiway, past all the other guys, and parked where he had started from.
I watched the plane land, and took pics through the binoculars. Then I went back in to my tasks.
My mechanic, whose hangar is five doors down from me came into my hangar a few minutes later, laughing. "BUSTED! I saw the SS come after you. What did you do?"
I told him what the exchange was.
"That's weird. My hangar door was open, and I was out front sitting on a step ladder. And down the row? They all had their hangars open. Who's list are you on?"
That's a good goddamn question.
posted by C at 11:54 AM
1 Comments:
That's what you get for making fun of poor ole Dubya all the time! When I met Bill "Poonhound " Clinton all those years back, all the men in black did was ask ask us to keep the beers out of sight and stop making all those suggestive "Monica" comments. Aussie golf course, different rules.
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