Clearly, young Frank was in trouble.
Around midnight, the hotel manager, clutching his pajama collar, rcilessly tossed the disheveled young Frank out of the hotel.
In fact, the kind-hearted manager had already been lenient; two checks that young Frank had written had bounced, causing the hotel manager himself to get into trouble. Despite young Frank's repeated explanations that the bank made an error, the poor manager didn't want to drag himself further into the mire.
Thus, young Frank was thrown out of the hotel.
In the end, he had no choice but to spend the night at a roadside motel amidst the nightlife of the city.
In this desperate situation, young Frank had a sudden inspiration—
Checks.
He began to manipulate his checkbook, creating fake checks and assuming false identities, brazenly heading to the bank to cash them.
However, he t with failure.
Lies? Not a problem; he was a natural at fabricating elaborate stories.
No.
A ray of sunlight pierced through the layers of dark clouds, illuminating the glass before reflecting onto the side of young Frank's face. The golden glow outlined the contours of his handso profile. His bright blue eyes sparkled, like a miracle; the gentle breeze tousling his hair made him look even more elegant and striking.
If one plan didn't work, it didn't matter. Young Frank brought out the trick his father used when renting a black suit: a gold chain.
The pilot, with the aura of a star, entered the luxurious hotel before him. The hotel lobby manager personally ca out to greet him, and even a little kid rushed over to ask the pilot for an autograph. The afternoon sun in New York made the entire space gleam with golden splendor, and the world suddenly beca brighter.
Young Frank stopped in his tracks. Ahead of him, a taxi pulled up, and a tall man in a pilot's uniform stepped out first, followed by a variety of flight attendants, each with a different charm—
Even though he had run away from ho, young Frank still regularly sent telegrams to old Frank, ensuring his father knew he was safe. These ssages made old Frank extrely happy, bringing a long-lost smile back to his face.
Of course not.
After yet another rejection from the bank, young Frank left dejectedly, his brow furrowed and steps heavy, as if his thoughts were tripping up his feet.
Does anyone still rember the summary from the fake TV show at the beginning?
"Dear Father,
Following closely behind the pilot and flight attendants into the hotel, young Frank stood there in a daze, watching the scene unfold.
Love, your son, Frank."
So, was young Frank really planning to beco a pilot?
I have decided to beco a pilot. I've applied to all the airlines, and my schedule is filled with hopeful interview invitations.
One. Two. Three.
At sixteen, young Frank was still too green and inexperienced. His little tricks were no match for the banks' rules and regulations:
Simple lies? They didn't work.
Just then.
The world shifted into slow motion.
The small taxi seed like a magician's hat, continually producing a variety of beautiful won, the atmosphere filled with laughter and harmony.
What a pity.
What about mom? Have you called her lately?
Young Frank successfully impersonated a pilot and flew for over two million miles for free.
In the opening of the movie, Steven Spielberg had already given it all away. But even if you don't rember, it's okay, because Steven is leading the audience into this thrilling adventure through his cara lens.
After facing setbacks at the bank, young Frank realized that his little tricks and lies might not work in society. He needed to be fully prepared.
So—
Young Frank used his identity: a high school student.
He posed as a reporter for the high school newspaper, openly scheduling an interview with Pan Am's New York office, claiming he was writing an article for the school paper to tell students how to beco pilots.
Age. Identity.
These factors, which were disadvantages when cashing checks at the bank, beca the perfect disguise here, easily disarming the defenses of the Pan Am office.
Faced with the curiosity of a high school student, no one would refuse their admiring gaze.
"Every pilot has two things they must carry with them."
"One is the airline employee badge, and the other is the Federal Aviation Administration license, like this one."
The gentleman took a license from his wallet and showed it to young Frank.
Young Frank accepted the license with great surprise, looking up excitedly. "Sir, can I make a copy of this for my article?"
The gentleman was generous. "Oh, Frank, you can take it. It expires in three years anyway."
Young Frank quickly slipped the license into his pocket. "Thank you. And what about your employee badge? Do you have an extra one I can borrow?"
The gentleman laughed cheerfully. "I'm afraid I can't help with that. These must be specially ordered from the Polaroid Company, and the only way to get one is to beco a real Pan Am pilot."
But is that really the case?
Young Frank used a public phone to call Pan Am's headquarters, stating that his uniform had been lost by the hotel laundry departnt in New York.
The procurent departnt at Pan Am was not surprised; this kind of thing happened every so often. They gave young Frank an address to go for a custom uniform.
Moreover, the best part was that this uniform supplier didn't accept checks or cash. They only needed the employee's ID number, and they would bill Pan Am, which would deduct the amount from the payroll.
For young Frank, who was currently penniless and whose checks couldn't be cashed but had a real Pan Am employee license, this was perfect.
"Dear Dad,
You always told that an honest man has nothing to fear, so I try not to be afraid. I'm sorry I ran away, but you don't have to worry. I'm going to get it all back now, Dad.
I promise. It will all co back."
Dashing and elegant—
Dressed in the pilot's uniform, young Frank easily beca the center of attention. His tall, slender figure, handso face, and the addition of the uniform made him a bright sight on the streets of New York.
n were envious, won were admiring, and even little girls of six or seven looked up at him in awe.
As he walked, the crowd parted like the Red Sea. Despite the crowded streets, nothing hindered or disturbed young Frank's stride.
Unhindered, striding confidently, young Frank once again entered the bank.
"… Seventy, eighty, ninety. One hundred dollars."
This ti, without any effort, young Frank cashed the check, easily getting one hundred dollars in cash.
Not only that, but the bank branch manager also personally ca forward to greet him, without any suspicion of young Frank's identity. He sincerely thanked the pilot for coming to his branch and looked forward to seeing him again.
Later.
When young Frank returned to the five-star hotel, the treatnt was completely different. But young Frank was still unsure, his tone slightly hesitant.
"Can I use a personal check to pay for the room?"
The lobby manager replied, "Of course. For airline employees, we can cash a personal check for up to one hundred dollars; for salary checks, the limit is three hundred dollars."
Young Frank's eyes lit up.
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