Pulling out the thermo-nuclear trump card

Our QA group works in the basement of this building. I work on the third floor. The only elevator is a freight elevator at the other end of the building, and I think you need your doctor to swear on a stack of bibles that you are legitimately handicapped before you can use it. Consequently, when the QA people need me to come down and look at a problem, I have to haul myself down this steep stairway in one of the danker and more industrial smelling parts of the building. I would like to I avoid it as much as possible. However, one of the QA people, Lisa, always calls me first whenever she has any problem, and she’s not very good at describing what the problem is, so I have to go down the stairs to see her. Unfortunately she’s very nice and pretty good at her job for the most part, so I can’t just tell her to fuck off.
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Last Weekend, Part #1 – The flight

The mission was to get to Ottawa and points north. I was going to Maddy’s interment on Saturday, and spending some time with my kids on Sunday. I had booked the club’s Dakota, which is my favourite plane, but when the Lance became available I switched to it instead – the Lance is a bit faster, which is nice, but the main reason is that the club’s insurance company is looking to restrict who can use the Lance so it won’t hurt to have a lot of Lance hours on record.
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