Is it a Bird, is it a Plane?

Before we go any further, I would just like to clear something up once and for all.  I cannot fly.  There is no truth to that rumour at all.  And I should know cause I started it.  Err no I didn’t.
If you looked up and saw someone fly in a circle and then fly south that looked like me, you were mistaken.  It wasn’t me.  Mistaken identity I would say.  An honest mistake.  Or a dishonest one.  I don’t know.  You gotta live with yourself.  You gotta get to sleep at night.
I can appreciate you making the error though.  Me with my superpowers an all.  My brother apparently made the mistake of thinking he could fly when he was a kid.  Got sheets and all and jumped off our low shed.  Seems gravity came into effect pretty quickly.  He was unhurt but did not try that again.
Must run in the family this flying thing.  I used to dream I could fly.  I learned pretty quick though that if I was flying I was dreaming.  No one needed to say “tell him he’s dreaming.”  I knew.  Was good though.
It would solve a lot of problems for me if I could fly.  Being concerned about petrol prices would be a thing of the past. If I had to nip down the shop for say milk.  I could go out the back, take off and be home again in a jiffy.
I would make sure I landed at the shops somewhere quiet and out of sight.  I would want to avoid mass panic.  Sure the fame would be nice for a while.  People running towards me and wanting my autograph and all. 
But I reckon I would grow tired of that.  I reckon I would try a disguise and all.  Maybe Elvis.  People tend not to believe someone saying “Elvis is in the building.”  “Yeah where?”  “Getting milk” seems to have an implausible ring to it.
Besides me not liking heights is not a real good start.  I would work out my flight path, ascend and say “hang on a minute” and come back down.  I would probably give some excuse about there being too many electricity wires and not wanting to end up on them near the sandshoes.
The car would look way more attractive at that point.