The First Officer’s Lament: Part Two, How to Spot a Crazy Man.

 

"Listen to me! The only right way is MY WAY! Do you understand?"

“Listen to me! The only right way is MY WAY! Do you understand?”

Last week in the First Officer’s Lament: Part One, I talked a little bit about what it’s like to be a first officer at a commercial airline. Basically we are constantly playing second fiddle to the captain. Ninety percent of the captains I fly with are good, competent pilots that do I great job of running their crew, being humble and keeping things on track. If he does these basic things, I am happy, even if socially we have nothing in common, it will be a decent trip.  When I fly with a guy I actually get a long with and have a lot in common, life is good. A four-day trip goes by quickly.

On the flip side is when you have to fly with someone who is a notorious a-hole. Flying with these guys makes four-days seem like a year. These are the pilots that people bid-avoid. (The way we get our flying schedules is all the trips for the following month are released the month before. Everyone, based on their seniority, bids for the trips they would like to fly. We have an option in our bid, that if there is someone you don’t like to fly with, you can bid avoid that person, so you don’t end up on the same trips.) There are actually very few pilots that fall into this category.

I, myself have only “bid-avoid” one or two people, but would fly with them again after a long break. To be honest, I actually like flying with the people who everyone else bid-avoids, because so much of my job can be mundane and routine. I go to the same places over and over, weeks go by, than months, without much to distinguish them. But not if I fly with someone that sucks to fly with. These trips are painful and mentally exhausting but it will be interesting and memorable. Three years later, the details are still fresh in my brain for a good story over a beer.

Look man, I'm the Dude...

Look man, I’m the Dude…

I had one of those trips recently. From the day I got my schedule and saw this particular captain on my trip, I was filled with dread and at the same time giddy with anticipation, “Oh what wonders will I see?” This particular man is pretty notorious throughout my flying base as someone to avoid flying with if possible. Generally, because I am pretty easy-going (I define easy-going as someone who avoids confrontation but bottles it up inside to explode with it at a later date at nothing related), I never really have many problems with anybody. I pride myself on finding common ground with anyone I fly with, even if they are notorious. I usually finish a trip and think, “He wasn’t so bad. I’d do that again.” But this particular trip I was flying with Rob Winchester (I changed his name for protection, mostly for myself! I think he is crazy enough guy that he would hunt me down if he knew I was writing this.)

"That's not where that goes!"

“That’s not where that goes!”

Rob is about 6 ft, 3 in, tall, probably weighing in around two hundred and sixty pounds. He is apparently an ex-army ranger (more on that in a minute), and although he is in his late forties, he still sports a crew-cut. He is a little physical imposing. Combine that with a flash point ability to change moods, he definitely creates a psychologically challenging environment to fly in. If I could compare him to a character in a movie, he would be a lot like Jon Goodman’s Walter in the Big Lebowski. In fact, now that I think about it, the idea of flying with him again s a lot easier. “Ha. Yes he spouts off about crazy philosophies for hours, yes I don’t know what is going to explode out of him at any moment, yes he is a bit of a lunatic, but he has a good heart and in the end he might just defend me against machete-weilding nihilists.”

To be fair, Rob fully acknowledges he is not the easiest person to fly with. He does try very hard to

This guy doesn't need any kind of warning sign around his neck.

This guy doesn’t need any kind of warning sign around his neck.

be affable and for the most of the time he is, until he isn’t. Those moments come like a lightening bolt though, out of the blue, leaving you questioning your sanity and praying to God they don’t happen again. I think I am having difficulty putting into words what I mean. So I will attempt to put a lot of the little things together to paint the picture (because you can always tell a crazy person by the cumulation of little things. You rarely have someone wearing a chicken on his head, with no pants on to warn you to stay away. You have to look for the underlining clues, the small cracks in the veneer, that reveal an unwraveling interior!):

 

"Not six minutes man! Seven!"

“Not six minutes man! Seven!”

1. When we were doing pre-flight preparation, he was very particular on where the ATIS (weather) and clearance (flight plan) were placed on the dash. These are little paper printouts that we often post like a post-it note, below our instruments, for quick reference. Some guys like them in a specific spot, which is fine, but he was very adamant that each piece had it’s own spot and there were no substitutions. I found this out later when I reversed the spots, “No! What are you doing? The atis doesn’t go there! It goes here!” Of course he had a very specific logic for why it was the most important thing in the world, but it would be the equivalent of your dad teaching you to drive and getting upset about your cup holder usage, “What are you doing? Coke cans don’t go in the front cup holder! Only coffee cups! What’s wrong with you? A coffee cup won’t fit here without my elbow touching it!?

"Okay, but I'm not messing with you. I just asked how you are doing."

“Okay, but I’m not messing with you. I just asked how you are doing.”

2. In an attempt to find commonality between us, I tried the military service route of conversation. I commented on his jump wings that he wears for a tie tack. “So were you an Army Ranger? That’s pretty impressive. I was in the military too. Air Force, though.” Generally I have found there are so few guys that I fly with that have any military experience, that it creates a bond of shared experience. Even if it is such disparate experience as an Air Force pilot and an Army Ranger. His response was somewhere on the anti-social to the self-unaware spectrum of: “Oh really? I initially wanted to be a pilot in the Air Force. But it turned out what I did was more interesting and challenging. I think I would have been pretty bored as an Air Force pilot. It was way cooler to jump out of planes.” And I am sure it was. Mind you I wasn’t saying, “I was an Air Force pilot and I think I am awesome. Let’s compare our dick sizes.” I was just trying to make conversation. Now honestly, I really don’t care one way or the other, I just use it as an example to show the guy was a little off. 3. He used the socratic method of discourse, often and without solicitation. What is the socratic method you ask? It’s the annoying way of trying to get your opinions across as logical fact, by asking a lot of leading, rhetorical questions of your subject, bringing them “the right answer.” This is particularly annoying when your subject is engrossed in a book or a magazine, and just trying to get through the day without you blowing up at him about something random. Often the first step in the logic chain is a false assumption of some kind, but you won’t really consider that because it came from your head. Your subject will politely nod his head and say, “Yeah. Huh. Wow I didn’t think of it that way. I guess if you are going to wear the skin later, it really does have to rub the lotion on it.” But secretly thinks you might be crazy and really would rather read his book (Why do you have to wear the skin suit again?)

"Wait! Socrates! Before you drink the poison, I have to tell you something...You're the biggest blowhard any of us know. Now drink up..."

“Wait! Socrates! Before you drink the poison, I have to tell you something…You’re the biggest blowhard any of us know. Now drink up…”

Ah crap, I’ve gone way over my own predetermined word limit! I am like your grandpa, who starts a story and then an hour later still hasn’t gotten to the good parts and asks, “What was I talking about?” I was just warming up on my four-day trip with Rob Winchester and left out my favorite part: The four-day hunger strike! Well I will go eat my applesauce, and promise to finish up in part 3.

Do you have someone difficult you have to work with? How about your boss? Whatever you do, I want to know the story!

 

 

2 comments

    • Aldijana Z. on December 20, 2012 at 10:23 AM
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    lol looking forward to the rest of the crazy man story… and do ramble on, it’s kinda funny 😉

      • Marc on December 20, 2012 at 10:07 PM
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      Ha! Thanks Aldijana. As long as the rambling entertains you!

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