Blog life and real life collide in a collision of cataclysmic consequences!

I went for coffee with Aviatrix yesterday. No, it wasn't in Toronto. In fact, it wasn't within some hour's cruise speed of Toronto, I mean, depending on what airplane you are flying. Okay, it was in Halifax, at the Tim Horton's on the corner of Main and 7th. Oh wait, my mistake. It wasn't in Halifax, I don't think. But there was an ocean involved. Or were those mountains? Do they have mountains in the prairies? Hmm, maybe I was thinking of a forest. But there was a Tim Horton's involved. Tim Horton's is the place that serves sushi, right? I forget most of the details, but I'm absolutely, without a doubt, nearly positive we were in Canada and I’m somewhat positive it was yesterday, or at least it feels like yesterday.

But it was her. I asked to see Picture ID and it confirmed her identity, and that she was a cross between Sigourney Weaver and Linda Hamilton.

Now I noticed that in her blog she has failed to mention a few things about herself that I thought deserved attention. Here are the top 5:

1. She’s only 36 inches tall and rides in a backpack on a trained brown bear named “Wingnut”, who walks on two legs. Wingnut was painfully shy at first, but quickly grew much friendlier when Wingnut noticed I was made almost entirely of meat.

2. Aviatrix is completely covered in cartoon tattoos. It takes a lot of guts to get the entire cast of Snoopy characters etched on a person’s gums, but she said it was worth it and frankly, I believe her.

3. The name on her driver’s license is in fact “Aviatrix” – she says her ancestors came from a small village in Gaul, where they amused themselves by drinking strength potions and beating up Roman soldiers.

4. During our coffee session, we were twice attacked by groups of ninjas. Both times, before I had even figured out we were in mortal danger, she had deftly dispatched them all with nearly imperceptible flicks of her wrist, and bites from a bear. She says it happens all the time and barely even notices it any more.

5. She patterns her life philosophy on “Dog the Bounty Hunter”. She briefly explained it to me as “If they don’t pay, they go to jail. And by ‘jail’ I mean the bottom of the lake”. She cracked her knuckles menacingly, as did Wingnut.

I asked her to prove she’s a flight instructor and she promptly took me to her car and showed me 3 student pilots, bound and gagged in the trunk. She offered to have Wingnut drive us to a nearby coffee shop but I wanted a breath of fresh air after the flight and the constant sobbing from the trunk was really bringing me down, so we instead walked to Uncle Tim and Brother Bernie’s Worm Farm and Coffee Emporium. I had the chai nightcrawler latte while she made do with a soy nematode decaf. Mine was hot, but a bit wriggly. Wingnut snacked on a fat, unwary doberman.

I’m not going to mention what we talked about as most of it was classified, relating to my as-yet undeclared war on the lawncare industry, and her recent discovery of a hole in her basement that leads to middle earth. Hmm, I think I have said too much already. I mean, we mostly talked about politics.

Anyway, it was great to talk to her and chat about airplanes and the internet and life in general. She was happy about getting her flying medical, and looking forward to her upcoming job. Oh wait, forget I said that last part.

When we were done chatting, I said goodbye and then let my flying golden rabbit take me back to my home. Hmm, maybe that part was a dream. I forget. All I know is I’m pretty sure I met Aviatrix or read her blog or something. But I’m sure I met her. And if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that I think I met her. I mean, it seemed so real.