Yes, I did get laid.

BWB

WWW (Wild Weasle-Wanabe) Fictional Story #69:

In the world of clandestine GA buzzing, this is what we refer to as a
confirmed kill Bill. Kudos on the bull's eye BWB. Glad you picked a
turbo for the high alt mission. I was actually still 17 yrs old on
that last unsuccessful mission to get laid now that I think about it.
My next target unfortunately was the old Russian tea-house on the
island inside the crater-ring of mountains of Emerald Bay Lake Tahoe.
I picked up some great looking pussy who knew of my aerial prowess
(thank god, cuz she also knew of my dismal football stats,) and
proceeded to show her the true awesome power of a C150 with full tanks
and two people. I mean her tits were so big, I wasn't sure we could
make over mountains!

We labored up highway 50. Being an experienced 18-yr-old pilot with
over one hundred hours of flight time, I knew exactly what I was
doing. I knew to fly IFR (I follow roads) just in case the rubber
band broke. Lucky for me the 6500 ft mountain air was still when we
arrived up at Lake Tahoe because after the damn timing retarding AD
came out on the 0-200, this particular frickin engine with the cruise
prop installed was bogging me down to 80mph at full throttle leaned
(and using periodic carb ht, to keep it going!) But this was a "wild
weasel" wana-be mission from God, so I flew into the bay 100 ft off
the water unafraid (18-yr-old's are immortal, and thus, have no fear
of anything.)

Better make a couple of orbits first to look for Ranger Rick or any
tree huggers that might be hangin around before the buzz job. My oh
my! It takes 50 degrees in this thing just to keep from hitting the
walls in this crater! Not good, Not good, this slug losses altitude
at 55 degress! (second mild unplanned accel stall!) Engine running
rough now…. gotta have some carb heat.. ****! 15 ft off the water
now. Dumb bitch is babbling to me about how pretty it is etc! Can't
use carb heat again.. too low, too slow! Looks like were going
swimming! At least she'll float. But here comes the opening of the
bay again. Roll out! Carb Ht! RPm! Back Off!… Whew! made it.

"Wow that was bitchin!" the blonde bombshell says. " Let's do it
again. How come you're sweating so much? Pac? How come
you're shaking?"

"uh….mummble mummble..." I say, "think I'm coming down a fever or
something…. let's go home."

Although the buzz job on the Russian tea house was by technical
military standards an abort:

1. did not drown.
2. finally got credited later for a bull's eye, a confirmed kill with
the wild weasel.

pacplyer - out