CHAPTER 5

I love my job, and I enjoy communicating that love to others interested in the profession. In spite of everything bad in the work environment, nothing compares to the rush that you get from working a busy push.

I do the career fairs because I want to be the spectral opposite of the glory hounds like Dickie. Dickie makes himself out to be a water-walker, mostly so he can try to nail some college-aged pussy. I’ve seen him ask for dates on these things, mostly creeping out the few young women who find interest in a ground-based career in aviation. Hell, if he was the face of the Agency, we’d be lucky to have any balance in ATC. As it is, the field is male-dominated. I am equal opportunity: if you can do the job, I don’t give a shit what your orientation is, what genitalia you have, your race, color, creed or religion. Do the job, and do it good, and I will happily embrace your presence. Not that I don’t appreciate nice people, but competence is king. Dickie was smarmy, and weak as a controller.

I approached the Agency kiosk at the college, and Dickie was nowhere to be found. At least he set it up. There were a great number of hopeful students lobbying with recruiters from some of the bigger companies, while the government service booths had sparse attendance. I sat down behind the table and took inventory of the various flyers designed to glorify the spectrum of careers offered. Dickie showed up and sat down next to me. I grunted a response to his cheery salutation.

I will say that Dickie has great fashion sense. He never came to work without wearing nice slacks, a pressed shirt, and shoes that came out of an Italian cobbler’s shop. I don’t think I saw him wear the same pair twice, but that is an exaggeration. He was a great image for the Agency, with the walnut-sized brain of a stegosaurus. I had a cat like him once: beautiful to look at, but brainless.

“You know, Norm, I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but I can’t get my head around why you dislike me so much?”

“Dickie, I hardly think this is the forum to resolve our family issues.”

“You see. It’s like that. Why do you keep calling me Dickie?”

Did I fail to mention that he hated being called “Dickie?” Luckily, a couple of people came up to the kiosk, discussing as they walked towards us. One was an older guy. I recognized him as the Dean of Aviation Sciences, Pete Masucci. The young woman with him was clearly confident. Dressed impeccably---smart suit, subtle makeup---and her hair pulled back, but not tightly wound. She knew what she was doing, dressing to impress, and Dickie drew in his breath.

“Get a load of this one, Norm.” He hissed out of the corner of this mouth. The way he slipped the words out was almost at a whisper, and I realized that “snake” was a good analogy for him. Pete greeted me first as we rose.

“Norm! Great to see you.”

“You too, Pete. You’ve met Dickie McCallen here before?”

“Rich McCallen." Dickie shot me a nasty look as he corrected me. "I think we met at Norm’s last party.” I am an asshole, but not so much that I don’t invite Dickie out with us. Being away from work has a way of softening my rough edges. I can put aside that he’s an incompetent boob, have a drink and talk about the old days.

“I wanted you guys to meet Laurie Palmer. She’s one of the stars in our program. She’ll be graduating this May, and I understand she’s already been hired by your Agency.”

Dickie opened his mouth to say something condescending, I’m certain, so I cut him off. He’s kind of a lecherous, chauvanistic dickweed at times.

“Laurie? I’m Norm Higgs. Class of ’81.”

“PATCO? I get it.” She smiled and shook my extended hand. A firm grip for a woman.

“Rich McCallen.” Dickie interjected. I swear he grimaced when she squeezed his hand, and I think she had him pegged from the word “go.” Smart girl.

“As Mr. Masucci was explaining,” she took control of the conversation,” I’ve got a class date for Oklahoma City. I leave a couple of weeks after graduation.”

“Great.” I said. “So you’ve been through all the real fun. The mind games are next. Make it there, do well, and you’ll have your choice, I hope.”

“I already have my assignment.”

“Where?” I think Dickie was drooling.

“Right here. Metro Tower. I really got lucky.”

Dickie’s pulse jumped through the roof. I think he nearly swooned. There was a reason that Marci left him all those years ago. He liked the fairer sex way too much.

“Well, why don’t you drop by before you leave and grab a training packet? I’ve also got some off-the-books stuff that will help you once you get going. It’ll probably help you at the academy, too.” I kept old training manuals I’d gleaned from all the service ATC schools, here and there. When I was in flight school at Fort Fucker, it made sense to know what those guys on the other side were learning, too. I had no way of knowing that I’d need it myself.

“I’d like that, Mr. Higgs.”

“Call me Norm. My father is Mr. Higgs.” I was used to it by now, at my age.

“Thanks. Nice to meet you, too, Mr. McCallen.”

“I look forward to your first day, Laurie.” Dickie was probably ejaculating in his shorts now. Another lovely body for him to fantasize about at night.