SPANKYamerican

Being an F-16 pilot doesn't help with the ladies. If we're at a bar and I meet someone that I actually want to get to know, I'll generally spend a good hour convincing her that I'm not lying about my profession just to get her to sleep with me, at which point she'll call over one of my friends to validate my story. My friend will promptly tell her that I'm a weather ballon folder, but not just any weather balloon folder (he's trying to hook me up here), I'm apparently the best damn folder North of the equator. He has to say that because some dude in Australia is like, 3-time world champ and makes 6 figs a year, 7 with sponsorships. So at this point the beautiful lady in question is disgusted, all is lost, and she contemptuously offers me one more chance to tell the truth. I have now conceded defeat, so I revert to the old standby. I tell her that I'm a cliff diver at Casabonita. Disgusted, she shows me just how cold it can get in Norway in the winter and storms off. Either that happens, or I end up discussing politics all night with her and her guy friends who hate the war in Iraq, but they don't know why because they're idiots. However, one thing they are sure of is that it's all my fault. Either way, after the train wreck of trying to talk to a lady is over, my bros and I all share a hearty laugh because, contrary to how this story reads, I'm not in the least bit bitter, I love my life and I find these rediculously awkward social situations hilarious. We're fighter pilots, we drink Jack, get up on roofs, throw sh!t off them, and say f*ck a lot. God I love it.