Dear Richard

Dear Richard,

Are you trying to kill me? I know I have had harsh words for you and your airline, but I never thought you would make an attempt at my life. Well, except for the food poisoning I know I will get the next time I am forced to eat one of the meals your airline pretends are edible.

It is the middle of summer over here and for some reason I found myself in Phoenix last week. Well, with the temperature never dropping beneath 100, I decided to try and head to more northern climes. Having never been to Indianapolis, I thought that might be a pleasant place to stay a few days. I do so enjoy auto racing. I think that is one of the few things we have in common. Little did I know that you must have been following my every move and had hatched a secret plan.

I flew on an airline called Southwest. Although the flight was crowded, the crew could not have been more friendly. The flight was without incident and soon we began to descend. My seatmate excused himself to retrieve something from the overhead compartment before landing. I graciously got up and stood by while he removed one of his pieces of hand luggage. As he did so, something dropped to the ground and ran up his leg. At the moment, the man brushed his leg and a scorpion stung him. Was that scorpion meant for me Richard? As the man dropped down to one knee his son moved from his seat out to the aisle and tried to get the bag down for his father. At that point five baby scorpions were spotted. Deadly? No, but they would have given me a bad sting if I had reached for my luggage first. I am on to you Richard. From now on I shall be on my guard.