John watched four single propeller airplanes perform maneuvers at the end of an air regatta. The four planes banked in formation, white exhaust creating lines in the sky. After about ten minutes, John glanced at his watch.
I’m gonna be late!
He made his way through the crowd. He had a job interview at the airport. He fingered the brim of his hat and pulled it low, hiding his face. He didn’t need the job as a pilot, but the owner of the airline was a friend of his. The inaugural flight was in a month and his friend wanted an ostentatious launch. John smiled at the thought of interviewing for the position. His friend was the founder and CEO, but still answered to the board of directors. John had flown his own Gumman G-II from his Jumbolair airstrip. The flight from Ocala to Orlando-Sanford was uneventful, but he had to leave with plenty of travel time due to the air regatta.
John looked up to see a young woman with her hand extended. He grasped her hand firmly and removed his hat. Even though he was a celebrity, today he behaved like a sixty-year-old pilot.
“I’m Jessica, I’ll be conducting your interview today.”
John motioned with the hand holding his hat. Smiling, he replied, “Lead the way, Jessica.”
He followed Jessica into an office with glass walls and waited for her to seat herself behind a desk before sitting himself.
“Mister Travolta, please tell me of your experience with the Boeing seven-oh-seven.”
John cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve flown one as a goodwill ambassador for Qantas.”
Jessica smiled. “The flying Kangaroo?” She looked into his eyes, “You an Aussie?”
In the worst Australian accent he could muster, John replied, “Not on your life, missy. I’m all American.”
Jessica laughed out loud. “Mister Travolta.” She paused. “May I call you John?”
“John, that was the worst accent ever!”
Smiling, John replied, “I guess a career as an actor isn’t my fate, huh?”
Jessica leaned closer, almost conspiratorial, “You do have a handsome face, maybe as a father-figure or something.”
John leaned back, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The office door burst open and a middle-aged man rushed through the door.
Jessica and John looked towards the commotion. “What’s going on, Steve?”
Steve ignored Jessica. “Mister Travolta, can I shake your hand? Maybe an autograph?”
“I’m in the middle of an interview, here.” He looked toward Jessica. “Maybe afterward?”
Steve grinned and strutted out of the office, high-fiving a coworker on the other side of the glass.
“What was that all about?” A perplexed Jessica inquired.
John looked over his shoulder before returning his attention to Jessica. “I have actually done some acting before. I guess Steve’s a fan.”
Jessica regarded John with a mask of skepticism. “Okay mister Travolta. I have your qualifications. We’ll make a decision in the next week.”
John leaned over the desk and shook her hand. “Thank you for your time, Jessica.”