Which reminded me . . .
A few years ago I used to teach a seriously gorgeous girl (tall, blonde, nice
figure) to fly; her surname was Barker as well and it was cool to have “Barker”
and “Barker” in the flight authorisation sheets.
Whenever I walked into the Ops Room the other young students (all male) would
go strangely quiet. I can only imagine what it must be like for that to happen
every time a cracker goes somewhere.
She was good at flying, by the way, and she wrote me the kindest thank you note
when she left the squadron . . .
Chris
> On 8 Jan 17, at 07:00, Moose <olymoose@xxxxxxxxx> wrote:
>
>
> Never went anywhere, but I did have a couple of dates and walked around
> campus with a serious knockout. Really weird, finding every eye wherever we
> were apparently looking at me. I had some hopes, but I was only a peripheral
> part of the reason her wildly conservative parents yanked her home from UC
> mid semester. :-)
>
> Funny thing, though, the girl with the most men after her, including me, had
> a pretty serious scarring on one cheek from fire. Sometimes it's not what's
> up front, but what's inside that counts
--
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