Airport Security


It is a dark 3:45 AM when the shuttle arrives at our house.  A cheerful driver greets us and helps load our bags into the back of his vehicle. 

My wife asks the driver how he can be so cheerful at 3:45.  He smiles: and says, "That's why I get paid the big bucks."

"I have one more stop, before we get on our way," says our chauffeur as he guns up the engine of his van.

My wife and I are on a big adventure.  We are going to New Orleans.  Our airplane will leave at 7:35 in the morning, and we want to get there on time.

The van heads up the hill to one of the new homes.  My wife looks at the house and says, "Wow!  That's not a house, that's a castle".

I look at it, and the house certainly does look like a castle.

We pull into a circular driveway.  A large man, surrounded by luggage is standing outside smoking a cigar. 

Our cheerful driver jumps out, greets the man, and starts to load the bags into the back of his van.

"What took you so long?"  Asks our new passenger.

"Long?" The driver looks puzzled.  "You were told that I would be here around four and it is only ten after.  You'll have plenty of time to get to your flight."

"Humph!" says our new passenger.  "I see I'm not the only one going to the airport.  I thought that this was a private taxi."

"We operate a shuttle service to the airport," says our driver.  "I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Don't look as if I have much choice," smirks our man.  "I guess one has to make sacrifices when you move out into the sticks."

The new man takes off his jacket, sits down in the front seat, and looks back at us. He smiles and says, "Hi. The name is Morrie Milton."

Morrie is a chunky man. One would guess his age to be in the late 40s or early 50s.  He is wearing a partially open shirt and is sporting an exceptionally thick gold chain and a hairy chest.  His watch appears to be a gold Rolex.

We introduce ourselves.  My wife mentions that Morrie looks familiar.

Morrie smiles and says that he advertises quite a bit on television. 

"Of course," says my wife.  "Morrie Milton Motors.  Cute ads."

"Yeh," says Morrie. "And I can give you a hell of a good deal on a new or used car."

"I will remember that when I need one," say I.

The van proceeds towards the airport.

Morrie becomes quite talkative. He is on his way to Detroit where he plans to broker a history-making automotive deal.  He lets us know how important he is, and how fortunate we are to be able to share a ride with him.

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