“So This Guy Walks Into a Cockpit…

And Nobody’s Flying the Plane”

Ladies and gentlemen, let me tell you a story that will make you want to take a Greyhound next time you visit Europe. So there’s this Lufthansa flight—Frankfurt to Seville. Nice and simple, right? Germans in the front, Spaniards in the back, everyone enjoying a pretzel and pretending they don’t hate each other’s driving.

About halfway through the flight, the captain—you know, the guy with all the stripes and the pilot voice that sounds like he’s narrating a funeral—decides nature’s calling. And when nature calls at 35,000 feet, you answer quickly. You don’t wait, you don’t negotiate. It’s you, the door, and a very tiny bathroom where you can barely sneeze without triggering the smoke alarm.

So the captain steps out, probably thinking, “What could possibly go wrong in eight minutes?” Well, let me tell you—everything.

He comes back, goes to open the cockpit door, and guess what? Locked. Not just locked—dead, bolted, Fort Knox, “you’re-not-getting-in-here-without-a-battering-ram” locked. He punches in the code once. Nothing. Twice. Nada. Five times! He’s punching buttons like he’s trying to get an espresso from a vending machine in Queens. Still nothing!

So now he’s outside the cockpit, knocking like it’s his mother-in-law’s condo in Boca. Meanwhile, the co-pilot—38 years old, in perfect health—is inside, completely unconscious! Not drunk, napping, or watching a movie—just out cold! This guy’s flying a $100 million aircraft, and his brain decides, “You know what? Let’s take five.”

The flight attendant gets involved. She’s on the intercom going, “Hans? You okay in there?” Silence. She’s probably thinking, “Did he fall asleep? Did he choke on a strudel? What is this, an Agatha Christie novel?”

Ten minutes go by. Ten! That’s not a delay—that’s a trial separation!

Finally, the co-pilot wakes up, opens the door, and he’s pale, sweating, and walking like he just saw the ghost of Amelia Earhart. Turns out, he’s got some neurological condition that causes seizures. Lovely! Like flying wasn’t already exciting enough—we’ve got mystery medical episodes now!

To his credit, the captain says, “That’s it, we’re landing this thing.” Diverts to Madrid. Boom. Crisis averted.

Now, what do the investigators recommend? You ready for this? They say, “Maybe airlines should rethink having just one pilot alone in the cockpit.”

You think?! That’s like saying, “Maybe the Titanic shouldn’t have skipped lifeboat practice.” Maybe the Hindenburg shouldn’t have used fireworks for mood lighting. Maybe—just maybe—someone should’ve thought of this before 200 people were 35,000 feet up with nobody driving the bus!

I’m telling you, folks—you don’t need a boarding pass these days. You need a will and a Xanax.