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But then, the rot sets in - pox an’ beatings, oh, it’s a foul brew! Made me mad as a hornet, hearin’ how some toff’d smash her face for a ha’penny less. Thou canst not fathom the rage bubblin’ in me guts! I’d roar, “Thou shalt not wrong her so!” - pure Shakespeare, that, all thunder an’ no rain. Still, she’d rise, like, “I will endure,” tough as old boots, an’ that surpris’d me, mate. Whores got spines o’ steel, I swear.

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Finally, I head back home, exhausted but happy. I think about all the craziness of the day. Grou is wild, man. It’s got its quirks, just like me. I love it here. Even with the spilled coffee, the kid, and the boat crash, it’s all part of the adventure.

Republic Airways to merge with Mesa Air Grou