Leaving on a jet plane

 I think I left you on an inter-terminal shuttle at JFK.  So arriving at the desk for Boston was busy but all going well apart from being behind schedule.  Short flight to Logan, and discovered we had to run like mad for the Delta to Portland Maine and Hank Carey.   Arriving at the desk the agent said "Over there.  The gate's closing".   Down the air bridge and the aircraft door was just closing.   

"I've only got one seat left" the stewardess proclaimed.

The ladies decided I'd better go and meet up with Hank. As the door closed behind me, I heard them yell "Tickets!  Money!" and my hand - I'm told - appeared round the edge of the hatch, clutching the necessary.  

I collapsed into the remaining seat.  The stewardess said to me, "You cut that fine sir.   Can I fetch you a drink?"   I had a vision of an ice cold G+T with condensation on the glass.   Back she came.  "No sorry.  This flight originated in Tampa, and a passenger just behind you has been availing himself of the company's hospitality, a little too enthusiastically.  So the captain has decided no alcohol to be served on this sector."   I assured her that was just fine, and could I have a diet Coke, with lots of ice.

As I sank back into my seat, I heard a voice from behind in an accent I knew well.  "Hey Jimmy!   How's you doin', pal".

No matter where you go in this wide, wide world......



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