Business in the Bush

There were two couples and the pilot on the small plane as it returned from sightseeing in the African countryside. They were heading for the “base camp” some 20 minutes away. Actually, base camp was a misnomer; it should have been referred to as the Ritz in the Jungle.

It was a very elaborate sales incentive trip that a spirits company decided to offer its distributors and outdo Seagram. From what I’m told this was indeed a spectacular trip.

No one really knows what caused the eruption and noises coming from one of the distributor’s stomach. It could have been the huge breakfast, maybe the elaborate dinner the night before, perhaps jetlag, or even the water. Possibly, it was all of the above.

Whatever the cause, the big guy in the back row was in distress. “Hey pilot, I got some stomach trouble…real bad…how long ‘til we land?”

The pilot’s answer was far from comforting. “About 20 minutes. Can’t go much faster.”

“You don’t understand son, I can’t last that long. Isn’t there any place closer where you can land?” howled the distributor.

“Not really” said the pilot.

By now, the other three people in the plane were also in distress worrying about his discomfort and the elevated sounds coming from the distributor. “Please,” said his wife, “isn’t there anything you can do.”

“Well…Okay, I have an idea,” the pilot offered. “There is a flat area without brush just ahead. I think I can land…it’ll be a bit choppy…not too bad…just hang on.”

Sure enough the pilot landed amidst a few bumps but surprisingly smooth for the middle of the jungle.

“Now what?” asked the distributor.

“As soon as I stop, leave the plane and head about 200 yards to that brush area and do what you got to do.”

The plane had barely come to a stop when he jumped out and did a combination crab-walk and jog for the foliage.

A few minutes later he walked out of the brush with a smile on his face. Ran to the plane, got in and the pilot immediately took off.

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Somewhere in eastern Africa there is a bushman who often tells the villagers the story of how he was tending his flock and, out of nowhere, an airplane lands. A big white man jumps out of the plane into the bush, makes awful body noises, jumps back into the plane and off they go.

To this day the bushman must be telling his friends that he has no idea about how or why this happened. But it was surely the strangest thing he had ever seen. It took hours to round up his flock.

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If it were a Seagram trip, there would have been a bathroom on the plane.

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