That Time I Didn’t Fall In Love On A Plane

I wrote this in February of 2017 and never published it, probably because it felt too personally revealing to share.  But now that time has passed and I can look back on it and laugh, I figure I’ll share it with you so you, too, can laugh.  I am no longer single so hell has already frozen over, and I can’t even remember what this guy looked like.

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Whenever people ask me why I don’t write anymore, I tell them it’s because I don’t have anything to say.  I still sit down and start to try to tap out a story now and then, but it usually falls apart when I stop and ask myself “what is my point?,”, or “who the hell cares about this?” or “is this sharing too much about a person in my life who may read it and be less than thrilled I’m posting about it?” and I abandon it.

But finally, friends, something happened.  A something that made me stop and say to myself, “this may actually get me writing again.” Minimal risk of the person it involves discovering it, but even if he does, my fucks given are lost somewhere in the ether.

And so here it is: my adorable plane love story….. that was not.  AT ALL.

A few weeks ago I ended up going on an impromptu work trip to NYC.  Only 2 nights, and I was scheduled to be out early the following day.  I packed light and my physical appearance upon arriving at LAX for my 10AM flight could best be described as greasy chic.  I sailed through security thanks to the blessing that is TSA pre-check, and took my far too sweet vanilla latte and egg & cheese breakfast wrap to sit at my gate.

As I glanced around, my eye stopped on a guy that was so attractive it made me pick up my phone to text my friend, Kim, about it.  (Hay Kim.)  This is a thing that does not happen often in my world.

There is a hot guy at my gate.

GO TALK TO HIM.

….no.

 

He was sitting at a charging station and there was a seat open next to him, so I said “fuck it” and plopped (gracefully) down next to him.  He was sorting through receipts and entering them into some sort of expense system.  I picked up my phone again.

He appears to have a job.  I think this is a work trip.

TALK TO HIM.

……no.

After a few minutes of me sitting there quietly with him not so much as even sneaking a peak back at me, I mentally shrugged and figured that if he was interested, he would have at least LOOKED at me.  Right?  Right.

The plane starts boarding and I stand in the crowd of people waiting anxiously to trample down the runway.  As I take my bulky duffel bag and purple plaid carry-on and try desperately to maneuver down the tightrope width aisle without knocking someone in the face with my laptop, I glance to the back of the plane where my middle seat (ugh) is.

Hot guy is seated in the window seat right next to me.

Wait, this shit doesn’t happen in real life, does it?  Eyeing someone at your gate that you actually single out and then, by some crazy form of kismet, they actually end up seated right next to you? Shut the fuck up right now.

After I throw my carry into the bin and sit down, I grab my phone again.

HOT GUY IS SITTING NEXT TO ME ON THE PLANE.

TALK TO HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAH!!

If there’s one thing I’m not good at, it’s talking out loud.  I also sensed approximately 0% interest from this dude at the gate, so I debated with myself.  Do I even bother?  Or do I sit here for the entire 6 hour flight trying to sleep upright without drooling on his shoulder?

He broke the ice first.  By literally talking about breaking ice.  There was a sudden chopping sound that made a look of confusion visibly apparent on my face.

“They’re chopping up ice back there.”
“Oh.”

I told you, I’m not good at talking out loud.  But I did smile, and the conversation continued.  Before we even took off, I’d admitted my fear of flying, hence the ice-breaking induced jumpyness, and we’d established that he was finishing a work trip and I was starting one.  He had concluded a photography gig in LA and was returning home.  As if to demonstrate, he grabbed his Canon out of his backpack and began snapping shots of the runway out the window.  As we got in line for takeoff, he pointed for me to watch the plane taking off before us sail into the sky.

“You ready for this?” he asked as the plane started gearing up to race down the runway.

I was.  Heh.

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