I work for a local Louisiana government as the head of the IT department, and something new is always happening at the office with all the characters I work with. For example, one random work day my co-worker, Albert, told me that he got his pilot's license recently and along with that came a timeshare plane at the local airport. He continued saying that it wasn’t a big ole’ plane or anything. It was just a single-engine two-seater, no bigger than a Toyota Corolla. Albert was known to be a bit of a prankster in the office, but I thought it would be rude to decline his offer, so I gave him a hesitant but kind yes.  

This was my first time in a plane that small, and also being a nervous flyer I was a wreck when the big day came. It was a mid-afternoon flight, and once I got to the airport Albert was in the hangar going through pre-flight checks. I then met up with him and he took me to board the plane. Now, I knew the plane was small but trying to get into the cockpit with my friend really proved how small it was. We were two grown 40-something-year-olds squeezing into such a confined space—there wasn’t even enough space for both our backpacks! 

I remember seeing the dash, which looked at least 30 years old then. I'm Mr. IT so I noticed there was a digital altimeter that looked very out of place on the old display; it must’ve been the only part of the instrumentation that wasn’t analogue.

We got cleared for take-off. The sprint down the runway didn’t feel much like a sprint; it seemed like it took forever. But then there was a moment when I could feel the plane was no longer on the ground. Officially in the air. My stomach dropped, and I could feel as my rear started rising off the solid ground. That was the best sensation of my life. 

Then things took a turn. We were above the great Mississippi River and my friend turns to me and says, “Hey, pay attention to how the plane reacts when I move the stick around because you'll be flying her in just a few minutes."

I froze then and there, and of course in my head I’m questioning Is he joking? But he definitely wasn’t because once he leveled off the plane, he let go of the stick: “She’s all yours.”

I grabbed the control stick between my legs while a thousand things rushed through my head. Once the shock wore off, I remembered how I'd been watching Albert be sure not to make any abrupt movements. So I followed suit. 

As I finally got a grasp on how to control a literal plane, I heard the control center on the radio say we needed to circle back to the airport for landing. I definitely went into panic mode thinking about trying to land a plane while not knowing anything about it. I peed my pants a tiny bit, but Albert can never know that. 

He laughed and told me not to worry, “I’m not making you land this thing.” 

Relief is all I felt...which was only be temporary because then he said, “So Brandon, I just got these new glasses and I've never had bi-focals. The horizon isn’t what I've known it to look like. I'll need you to tell me if I'm too low or too high on the approach.”

Lord, I thought at that moment I was going to help this man actually land a plane. I was scared out of my mind, but also hurt—I had felt lied to.

“Nahh," he said, "I’m just messing with you.”

I should’ve seen it coming. 

Since that experience I have a new appreciation for small plane pilots—all except Albert, that prankster son-of-gun. I'm still trying to figure out a way to get back at him for that landing experience, even if it was in good fun!