Just after we landed at Cedar Rapids, Iowa, on Runway 9. “Citation 246GF, turn left on Runway 13, right on Alpha, left on Echo, right on Echo Two to parking with me.” We were the only aircraft moving at the airport. The the call sounded like: “Citation246GFturnleftonRunway31rightonAlphaleftonEchorightonEchoTwotoparkwithme.”
This guy would aggressively slam the aircraft into a 45-degree bank in the traffic pattern, turning from downwind to base, for example, with a maniacal grin on his face. I suspect he was a successful businessman, used to kind of getting his own way. I tried to convince him that flying like that often led to sudden death, but he smirked.
I tell the Tower my gear lights don’t indicate three green down in locked. The young man’s voice asked me “Would you like a flyby?” He wanted to know if I wanted to “fly by” the tower for him to look. Then he asked me “How many souls on board?”
I must have landed safely, because off I went, solo! Holy moley, the airplane took off and climbed a lot quicker with only one person on board, all that weight gone. Also, there was somewhat less yelling in the cockpit. I went around the pattern and did touch and goes and then went out north of town to the “practice area.”
The Chart Supplement can spell out the huge words “waterfowl” or “jack rabbits,” but can’t spell out the word “airport,” but instead uses “arpt?” Or “invof” versus “in the vicinity of?” Why not abbreviate bears, to “brs?” Or “buffalos” to “bfflo?” Reason?—because all the bfflo were sht by bfflo-hntrs in like 1885.