I travel a lot for work.
And, I’ve never murdered anyone.
But thanks to my newfound travel expertise, I feel like I could if I wanted to.
You see, sometimes when you fly, there are layovers. Usually they aren’t long - not long enough to leave the airport and do anything. But still long enough to be really, really annoying. And when I’ve got one of these not-long-but-too-long layovers, I get bored. So I sit and think.
And I come up with plans.
This is one such plan.
Just in case.
Just in case one of you CROSSES ME.
Here's how it goes.
I live in North Carolina. My hired Murder Assistant (my plan requires a virtual stranger I've hired as a murder assistant) lives in… let’s say for the sake of argument and not because I believe all Italians are criminals… New Jersey. And let’s call this hypothetical character Dan, and definitely not Giuseppe, because if that was his name this sentence would be racist.
So Dan and I both have one-way flights either to or through Atlanta-Hartsfield, because pretty much every flight ever goes either to or through there. He’s got plans to go… some place near the airport, probably. I don’t care. Doesn't matter.
I’m heading through Atlanta and on to... the other place that doesn't matter for the purpose of this plan where I theoretically murder someone. Boise. Let’s say Boise.
So I leave Raleigh. What you don’t know is that I’m going to kill the crap out of this one dude in Marietta, Georgia. NOT BOISE.
How? Well keep reading, cop trying to Solve the Marietta Beard Murders.
Here’s how I do it.
I use my ID to check into my flight at Raleigh-Durham headed to Atlanta-Hartsfield on my way to Boise. Records show that I passed through security, bought a skinny soy-chai latte from the airport Starbucks, and boarded the plane. Seat 86-C. Aisle seat by the bathroom because screw you David Sloan you sit back here and you like it. I pretend that I do like it there, like it’s my choice to sit there. That way I don’t feel so powerless that I want to murder someone in Marietta GA just to prove that I still have some control of my life.
Where was I? Oh right. Marietta Murder.
So I’m on my way to Atlanta. Meanwhile, Dan McNotanItalianMobster boards a flight from Newark to Atlanta Hartsfield. No connecting flights. Just heading to Atlanta, only dressed a lot like me.
But Dan and I have arranged an exchange at the airport. In a very brief and spy-movie type scenario. Probably involving chalk marks and a trashcan. I don’t know. Something badass like that.
We exchange boarding passes and credit cards. I give him mine, and HE boards the plane to Boise. Because they don’t check IDs when you’re boarding your connecting flight.
After all the other security in the airport, at that point they do nothing but scan a piece of paper and let you on a plane. So records indicate that David Sloan, not Dan, is in the air on his way to Boise. Maybe he’s buying something with David Sloan’s credit card in-flight. Maybe some Go-Go Wireless so he can email things to his friends, coworkers and family. Innocuous but very timestamped things.
But really, I’m already on my way to Marietta. In a cab. A cab I'll pay with cash.
And boom: somebody... is ‘bout ta git murrdurrd.
But not really. Relax.
All this is just a thing I've written for comedy’s sake.
So just chill. I’ll never use this plan.
Not unless Dan talks.