Friday, February 27, 2009 (10:00 p.m.)
Flight from Phoenix to Yuma
I don’t mean to be rude, but would you please stop talking to me? I have been traveling all day. I’m tired. This is a late flight. No one else is talking. And you’re kind of loud. But mostly, I’m just not a plane talker to begin with. I really don’t like it. Don’t get me wrong … I’m friendly. Really friendly actually. Just not on planes. Can’t you see my iPod in my hands? I’m anxiously fiddling with the ear buds hoping you’ll catch the drift that I just want to close my eyes and not talk to you, or anyone else for that matter. And no, I don’t want to exchange business cards. When I’m not at work, I don’t want to talk shop. Sorry.
Please, please, can you stop talking to me?
Sunday, March 1 (4:30 p.m.)
Flight from Yuma to Phoenix
Could you please wake up and talk to me some more? I know you’re probably so tired, and I understand. I really do. As a general rule, I myself am not a plane talker. But I’d SO be willing to make an exception to that rule.
Thank you for offering to muscle your way to the back of the plane to find a place to stow my carry-on luggage. Thank you for lifting it and miraculously getting it to fit into the overhead when I couldn’t do it myself. You’re a dream. And I love you. Oh, is it too soon to say that? Well, I’m sorry you spent a month playing ball in Yuma only to have to go back to California without being signed to a team.
Alright. You sleep. I’ll just sit right here beside you and swoon for the next 35 minutes while the Arizona heat settles between us. And don’t worry about your leg that’s pressing up against mine. It’s just giving me tingles in places I didn’t know could tingle. And don’t worry about your elbow creeping onto my side of our cramped quarters. It only caused my heart to skip a beat or two. I really don’t mind. And if you do want to talk, I’m here. And ready. Anytime. Really.
p.s. you have really great hands.
Sunday, March 1 (8:45 p.m.)
Airport Parking Shuttle
Can you seriously not see that there are 5 women still standing up on this bus? Are you really not going to get up and give one of them your seat? Has society really come to this?
Sidenote 2 to readers: I could totally lift my carry-on.
But a woman’s got to do what a woman’s got to do.