Chapter 1 - the interview

"Shit!" I hissed under my breath as I pulled the pile of wet laundry out of the hotel washing machine. I had my "Skype" interview in seven minutes and my dress clothes were in a wet heap. I pitched the the ball of wet clothes into the dryer and slammed the door with a metallic clang. I gritted my teeth as I reached for where my pocket should have been to load the hungry machine with quarters. There's two real problems with Sofie shorts. 1. There are no pockets for quarters. 2. They make my already large ass look massive. Previous years of volleyball and genetics have always made that my selling point. Ive always felt a little more exposed around the lower part of my ass than I would consider comfortable with the short shorts but I can not deny they are perfect for lounging around in strange hotels during minimum crew rest between flights. With my chest now outlined by a clear wet spot from where I had been holding my laundry I stomped out for my room. As I marched back at double time pace I noticed a young male housekeeper lock his eyes on my clearly outlined breast but I honestly did not care. They were nice and perky but not huge. Im not a tall girl so atleast they were fairly proportionate being a full b-cup with my slim build. Im sure he preferred the view he got once I passed him. As I got back I pulled out my white pilots shirt, the tackiest thing I could possibly wear to a pilots interview. Swearing I quickly buttoned it and plopped down in the desk chair and wiggled the mouse on my laptop, now three minutes from my interview. I quickly turned on the webcam to do a quick beauty check and there in the corner of the cameras view on the end of the bed was the empty pizza box that had housed the god sent carb bomb I had gorged on when I checked in 9 short hours ago. Spinning in the chair I nocked it off the bed with a backhanded hit sending crumbs all over the floor just as I head the familiar Skype ring signifying an incoming call. Spinning back I took a deep breath and clicked answer. As soon as my camera loaded I noticed I had forgotten my epaulets (the gold shoulder bars pilots wear) but at this point there was no turning back, I was just that much more anxious. I can not put into words how much I wanted this job. I was flying for the bottom of the barrel cheap seat airline. You couldn't afford a place on their horrible first officer salary (co-pilot), they totally exploited what was a "legal" work day, and our contracts were cleverly worded to not include unnecessary things like FOOD when we didn't fly for over five hours. We never flew for over five hours, its was all short hop regional flying with typically three flights a day ending in a rundown motel normal crews wouldn't even notice. If there are two things I love about life, it is eating and flying. In that order. Somehow I had sacrificed food for flying, and I was totally that pilot you see in the terminal throwing her watch panicked looks in the line of the McDonalds. On days where I didn't get to eat at all I celebrated the arrival to the hotel with as much comfort food as I possibly could fit in my taught belly (hence a food coma that could lead to one not moving clothes from the washer to the dryer).
Finally after what felt like hours the mysterious Skype interview began and into view came a middle aged man with horn rimmed glasses and George Clooney-esk salt and pepper hair. The man was obviously sitting in a cock-pit (Crew deck. Whatever) and no shit had a Led-Zepplin t-shirt on.

"Can you hear me Sofie?" he said a little to loud, as though I wouldn't hear him. I subtly turned down the volume on my laptop as feed beck began to screech through the speakers from his loud hello.
"Yes Mr. Wills, loud and clear!" I said with my toothiest smile. He smiled at this.
"My name is Scott, if you have to call me Mr. Wills your probably in deep shit." I just continued to smile, having no clue how to answer that. He had a boyish smile, clearly amused by my lack of words with his laid back approach to an interview.
"Your on my phone, so speak up for me. We're wheels up in 30 minutes so you need to give me enough time to push some buttons" he said again with a coy smile. At this point I could see a man in an expensive dress shirt with a young girl on his hip standing in the door talking to someone in the rear of the jet. He walked sideways into the cockpit leading with the young girl looking over "Scott's" shoulder.
"Is this Sofie?" he asked in a thick European accent.
"That it is" Scott replied looking up at him.
"Hello Sofie, looking forward to flying with you" the well dressed man said waving with his childs hand in is. The little girl smiled shyly as she was forced to wave. As the man exited Scott explained that he was the company owner, Michael.
"Were basically filed as a part 91 operation for tax reasons. For years Michael and his family were the only customer" he said this exaggerating the word customer. Before that he just owned and operated the jet himself but now we haul most of his business partners and had to plagiarize a bunch of "real" charter service manuals and become an FAA recognized operation.
At this point I felt pretty damn relaxed. The chief pilot had a band shirt on, and the owner had just told me he was looking forward to flying with me. I jumped startled as my phone (next to my laptop) vibrated loudly on the wooden desk. I could see out of the corner of my eye it was crew coordination for the airline I was currently employed by. Needless to say I silenced it.
The interview continued another five or so minutes and at the end Scott offered me the job.
"Ill email you the details for training, you'll have some time in Orlando to get rated in the Citation and we'll probably have you in a hotel for an extra week until Michaels conference down there at the end of November. Then you can ride right seat for me out of there and do your "check ride"". More emphasis on the word check ride, as though he was joking.
"Oh and one more thing, starting salary is 70k, we really don't have much room to wiggle on that but there is plenty of room for advancement once we get a feel for you". At this I almost squealed, and my stomach was doing backflips. The idea of being able to afford a car payment AND a rent check had me beside myself. In all reality I could afford a mortgage with that! As soon as I hung up I stood up, reached for the ceiling and cheered out loud. "YES!!!"
I had almost forgotten that crew coordination had called. I looked down at my phone feeling a bit deflated. Bastards had to rain on a good moment. They probably moved the flight up, shorting a few dozen customers and ending the rest time early. I called the number back, hit extension 12, got put on hold and was finally was put threw to a coordinator.
"Ms Parks" The frumpy employee said over the phone "Your flight has been slipped 24 hours for unscheduled maintenance. The captain will keep you updated on the flight, but don't expect to show in the lobby for another 20 hours."
This was like the day of good news! 24 hours of rest was under of!
I walked out of my room in my white pilots shirt and Sofie shorts showing a quarter inch more than normal of my round backside, hand full of quarters. The eager male house keeper poked his head around his cleaning kart as I strode towards him. As I walked past I made sure to give him a flirty smile and wiggled my ass a little more than normal to give an entertaining view. I charged a couple cheep beers to my room and sat down in the laundry room while my clothes dried. As I sipped the skunk beer I decided once my clothes were dry I was going out and celebrating properly.