The first time my mother flew, she was a nervous wreck. During take-off, the roar from the engines proved reassuring—it meant they were working, she reasoned. But when the plane levelled off, so did the engines. Grabbing the armrests, she asked aloud, “Did we stop?”
-Anonymous
An airline pilot wrote that on a particular flight he had hammered his ship into the runway really hard. The airline had a policy that required the first officer to stand at the door while the passengers exited, give a smile, and a “Thanks for flying XYZ airline.” He said that, in light of his bad landing, he had a hard time looking the passengers in the eye, thinking that someone would have a smart comment, but no one seemed annoyed.
Finally everyone had got off except for one little old lady walking with a cane. She approached and asked, conspiratorially, “Sonny, mind if I ask you a question?”
“Why no Ma’am, what is it?”
“Did we land or were we shot down?”
-Anonymous
