Bill Tells Loretta, “Don’t Worry, Baby!”

Loretta’s jet pulled off the runway and onto the tarmac at the executive end of Sky Harbor Airport.  Glancing out the window she spotted a familiar sight.

“Oh look!  There’s Bill’s plane!” she said, pointing to the big gray Gulfstream parked on the outside edge of the field.  “I’d recognize it anywhere.”

Moments later, her phone rang.  “Hi, Loretta, it’s Bill.  Do you have a minute?”  Soon he was bounding up the steps into her smaller, but comfortable government-issue Lear jet.

“That’s a beautiful plane you have there, Bill,” Loretta said.

“Oh, that old thing?  It’s all the foundation could afford.  Shoot, you ought to see the 727 my friend Jeff Epstein had.  We called it the “Lolita Express” because of all the young honeys Jeff kept on the plane for those trips to Orgy Island. Yeah, heh heh, I was on that thing about every other weekend for a few years . . . ”

“Oh, um…