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Put on a Smile4,062 words
Laugh Yourself A While3,535 words
Come On, Take A Whirl In A Loud Crowd2,100 words
Sitting All Alone1,909 words
Take A Whirl1,101 words

Take A Whirl

Woken up at 10 by my body, I fight a massive headache and unsettled stomach to get out of bed and detox. I do a blow to check my starting point, and thanks to diluted demand as opposed to a continuous flow, my indicated reading is 0.06%. Hopefully it’ll drop down below 0.03% by tomorrow, but until then, what can I do? I imagine Pinkie’s still asleep, and even though I feel fine, I shouldn’t drive. One thing however is for certain: I need food.

Not wanting to be that guy, I instead have a glass of water and wait for her to wake up. After 20 minutes, I eventually head outside and have a cigarette as an excuse to lighten the load. Halfway through, I see Pinkie moving in her kitchen.

“Hey Max! You woke up before I did!”

“That obvious?” I say jokingly as I have another huff.

“Is that electronic?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. If it was real, I’d have you stay outside.”

“Believe me, you would know if it was.”

“Well, is there anything you want to do on your last day here?”

“I mean, I might want Las Orquideas again, but not much else I can think of.”

“Well, you know what’s on my mind? It takes 134 minutes of active sex to burn off the calories in one bag of chips.”

“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

“But if it’s on the internet, it must be true.”

“Abraham Lincoln was ahead of his time, and also apparently very self-contradictory.”

Pinkie chuckles. “I thought Einstein said that.”

“Thomas Jefferson said ‘If it’s on the internet, it must be true.’ Einstein said, ‘I never said half the crap people say I did.’ But Lincoln said, ‘Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.’ It was part of his famous prohibition address. You know, his famous speech in St. Louis. ‘Four shots and seven beers ago, our drunkards brought forth, in this city, a new brewery, conceived in patriotism, and dedicated to the notion that all Clydesdales are meant to haul beer.”

“Stop It Max! You’re killing me!” Pinkie wheezes out.

“Sorry. I try.”

“And that’s why you’re fun to hang around with!”

“Good. That means I’m not inept.”

“Well then let’s go to the bakery! At least we can get out of the house.”

With that, I blow a 0.02 and jump in to Pinkie’s Escalade. Snagging parking in the alley behind the shop, we head in and claim her favorite table.

After I order a few items, Mrs. Cake hands them out personally to us, to which I immediately ask the question,

“How did your group meet?”

“We all met in college. Dashie and Fluttershy however are childhood friends. They’ve known each other since they were little. Applejack has lived in the same place since Granny Smith was young, and Rarity’s from Minnesota.“

“Where’d you all go to college?”

“Boise State.”

“You’re all Broncos then. Nice.”

“Yupperoonie!”

“Cool. You know I have the Dash 8 that wears BSU’s colors.”

“What?”

“You know Horizon? The Alaska regional subsidiary?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, they dumped all their Q400’s in favor of the E175. I purchased a few of the university ones – UW, BSU and SDSU, and their Celebration of Horizon Air Retro.”

“Oh, nice!”

“It’s a fun airplane to fly. If you enjoyed helping me in the trijet…”

“I can imagine.”

“It’s just sad. I mean, Horizon differentiated themselves from other U.S. regionals by operating turboprops. Thanks to shit circumstances and multiple nasty backstabbing incidents, I missed my greatest opportunity to get that type rating, but I was fortunate enough to get type-rated elsewhere. The story of my training in that aircraft is horrendous, but it is still a fun plane to fly.”

“Is that your favorite aircraft you have?”

“Oh heavens no. I don’t play favorites. Each one is special to me for its own reason.”

“You know, I wonder if Dashie would want to build time in a jet after she ends her time in the Blue Angels.”

“I don’t know. If Spitfire has her way, she could be a lifer. I’m all for it. I actually like flying alone. It has its perks, since autopilot can be a huge help.”

“Mhmm.” She responds as she sips her drink.

As we carry on conversation, Mrs. Cake takes orders and then begins another batch of whatever baked goods end up on the storefront.

We’ve been here for a couple hours already, and after a few drinks, enough baked goods to last me to medianoche, and a sandwich of the same name, we head out after Pinkie says hi to the twins, who are running books in the office.

Eventually, we head up towards Boca again at Pinkie’s recommendation so she can have a nice beach drive outside the city of Miami. Pinkie then drops all the windows so we can soak in the wonderful sea air. A refreshing feeling, we arrive at BCT, where Pinkie then parks and checks her texts. After I peer over and watch her hold almost 5 conversations at the same time, she then sends one more text before she immediately puts the Escalade in gear.

“What’s your BAC?”

“Don’t know. My blower is at your house.”

“If it’s low enough, I need to go back to Rockford.”

“Can be done. I’m gonna head to Maui and surprise Rosalina anyway.”

“Aww! Won’t that be sweet!”

“I hope so. I mean, it’s not like we left on bitter terms. When you called, I was in the middle of a dream, but I don’t remember it.”

“Oh well, now you get to eat it!”

“Eat it?”

“You know, forget it happened.”

“Oh. Well, yeah I guess. Obviously it wasn’t anything major since I didn’t remember it. It’s not like I can predict future events or anything.”

“What about your panic attacks in Chicago?”

“That was just a massive coincidence.”